MY This & MY That, Like This Baby

There is much to be said about our little Hunster. Born a bit early, he was perfectly tiny, docile, sweet looking thing for the first three months.

As the hair grew so did the personaility - for those of you who have witnessed  my dad's mustache, you know this runs in the family.

Can anyone keep a straight face looking at this picture?

Hunie's day starts with gusto as he stands straight up in his cot, purposefully pulls the paci out of his mouth, and slams it to the ground in a 'Who Dat' moment, leaving no doubt that he is going to own this day. (I am still amazed I am able to use that phrase in context - but it aptly describes the start of H's day!) He will smile widely and greet everyone with a singsong 'Moorn-ning'. He cheerily repeats this greeting, getting as close to your face as possible (usually submerged deep in a pillow) until he hears some semblance of  'Good Morning' back. Cute enough aside from the fact that this often happens at 5:45 am.

The sweet face belies the naughtiness

When Hunie wants a toy, regardless of what is in his way – people, furniture, walls – a mask of concentrated determination covers his usually jovial face and he plows over all obstacles, grabbing the toy and leaving chaos and often crying children and in his wake. If he is feeling generous, he will look at the crying child and say 'pleass' after the fact.

Hunie takes command

At meals, Huns doesn't gently push aside his plate when finished. Instead he grabs his plate, swiftly flips it upside down and flings food on the floor, the wall & the poor schmuck feeding him. With great joy, he celebrates defying our every parental command. His body literally explodes with laughter at the site of spinach pasta falling off the chandelier.

And beware those who give him a slightly chipped cracker. He will throw it to the ground, stomp on it, and loudly demand a perfectly shaped one. This is rewarded by a smile that stretches ear to ear. Hunie always asks for two 'crackus', never forgetting his Bro, and even if Tingu doesn't want it, Huns will usually try to crawl onto his back and stuff it in his mouth.

Tingu face says it all! Hunie looks a bit smug back there.

Lately, he has gone to just screaming – loudly, wildly, happily, simply because he can. He esp. loves to do this in the garage where it echos. He also loves to bellow 'Daaadddiieeeeee' at the top of his little lungs when looking for B. When found, he runs and launches himself onto B's back/stomach/head and slaps him (lovingly, I think) until B wakes up and tosses him in the air.

Moorn- ing Dadddieeeeeee!

Bath time is a floodzone as Hunie sky dives off of any high surface he can find. He stands on anything, throws everything, and bursts out in laughter when I reprimand him. He channels Tasmanian Devil and every misbehavior is followed by such a smile that it is unimaginable to stay angry at him. He pulls chairs out for the little girls to sit next to him at lunch, dances on command and believes that to give someone a kiss, is to suck your cheeks in and peck you with a turtle face.

This was on a day when his teacher said he wasn't feeling too good....

Hunie has a good repertoire of single syllable words, however to this day, he systematically avoids saying the word 'yes'. 'No' was mastered very early on. Hunie is an ecstatically happy kid most of the time - his highs are high and when he's mad he's fuming but the big, vibrant bursts of personality melt quickly and easily, one into the other.

One minute in Hunie Land - really, this was one minute.

Recently, Huns has started stringing together two word sentences, not surprisingly, they are possessives: 'My + <whatever>',My This, My That, My Tingu, My Mommie, My cracku…..this comes in handy as everything Tingu has must become the property of Mr. Hunie. So far, Tingu is pretty good about sharing with the Hunster. They split a pair of Tingu's socks all by themselves this morning – each wearing one of a crazy pair and going to school hand in hand. Brothers in mismatched socks - if only I had my camera!


Ambrose Bierce defined disobedience as the silver lining to the cloud of servitude. For now, I'll take it. This kid will have stories to tell and hopefully a big brother willing to bail him out of whatever trouble he gets into.