Hunter continues to be the sun that makes me shine. Every day he shows us he is more capable than before. He uses more words, can do more things.
Some of my favourites include:
Mopping up spills. Continuing on his Montessori education I make him clean up his own spills. He races off to the bathroom to grab a handtowel, If there isn’t one out he comes back and gets me. He then comes back to the spill, towel in hand, and “mops” up his own mess. I “help him” after a few wipes, and then when it is all mopped up I ask him to put the towel in the laundry and he runs off to drop it in the hamper.
Dinner. Hunter continues to eat happily. He has his own little table and we sit together to eat anything and everything, me on the floor and he on his little chair. He uses cutlery and stops every few bites to have a sip of his own little glass of water (no sippy cups needed!) which he almost always chinks with my glass and says “cheers!”.
Apologising. If Hunter hurts someone we make a point of explaining he has hurt the other person, and encourage him to apologise. He says “Sowwy” with a hug or kiss.
Reading. Hunter can point out many items in books and photos. He can also tell me the name of what I am pointing to in the pictures. Cutest is the way he listens attentively to me reading him stories – he particularly loves “Roadworks” by Sally Sutton, talking to me about the process of building a road, and “Goodnight, Goodnight, Construction Site” where he loves to talk about all the different parts of each new “twuck”.
Motorbikes. Now whenever Hunter sits on Daddy’s Motorbike he insists on wearing the bike helmet Unky D got him for his birthday. He knows the tailpipe is hot and stands back from it, fervently telling me how hot it is. “Hot! Ouch hot!”
Trucks. More than how much he inexplicably loves them, I love how, whenever I see a truck I think to myself “Hunter would love that!” The same way I will never be able to see a military vehicle without hearing my Dad and I’s ritual (Dad “Sammy, what colour is that tank?” Me “khaki green Daddy” Dad “car-key green, get it? Get it!?”), I am certain I will always hear a little voice sing out from just behind me “Twuck! Big twuck Mummy!”
Daddy. Every man in uniform is “Daddy”. Every man in a brochure or magazine is “Daddy”. Every motorbike is “Daddy’s bike”. All converse are “Daddy’s Shoes”. Every black T-Shirt is “Daddy’s shirt”. The sound of Lee’s bike pulling in the driveway see’s Hunter rush to the door, squealing “Daddy” excitedly. He knocks on the garage door saying “knock knock Daddy” and runs to Lee for a big hug every afternoon. Sometimes a motorbike will drive by during the day and Hunter runs to the garage door, “knock knock Daddy”.
Lee. Lee is a fabulous father. He loves spending time with Hunter, teaching him things, playing with him. Lee isn’t afraid to change nappies, bathe Hunter, go out on Daddy and son days, cook, clean- he is a mother, in the way that that is a compliment. Seeing the two of them together makes my heart soar. It makes me fall more and more in love with Lee because I know how precious and rare it is to find such a man. It’s been two years of ups and downs, with most all of it being ups and downs being sorted out and built on for a better future, and every day I am thankful to have another day to share with them. I love my boys.
Counting my blessing,