When I was getting out of the shower a few weeks ago, Hutton pointed at where he thought my male parts should be (but clearly weren’t) and said, “Broken?”

This is one of the many, many reasons I love our Hutton Smith. He makes us laugh on a minutely basis.

(It’s also one of the many, many reasons mommy’s bathroom doors now stay shut.)


So, anyway, this little cheeser just turned TWO.

Side note: on rare occasion he’ll cheese at me like this and I think, “Thank heavens for that one time we had to shave part of your front teeth off. If you were still in your original, unaltered, God-made form, the world couldn’t emotionally handle your cuteness. We’re kinda already strugglin as is.”

He’s my current favorite two year old in the world, and heres why:

He loves eating and sleeping so much, he occasionally tries to do both at the same time.


He loves monster trucks, putting on lotion, shoes, getting his diaper changed, and “choo-choo”s.

He gives hugs every time he leaves the room, nods with both his head and his mouth (I hope everyone is trying that right now), and loves his brothers…uh, shall we say, fiercely.


He yells “SOME??” from wherever he is in the house when he hears food packages opening and steals any and all things edible that are left within reach. (…like the friend’s plate of pancakes he polished off the other day, shortly after I said “don’t touch those”. In his defense, he waited to touch them until he set a potted plant between me and the plate, blocking my line of sight. He ate every last bite of those suckers before holding his syrup-saturated chin up high and walking away with a “nothin to see here” attitude.)

He calls Beckett “bubba” and Davis “baby”. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know either of their actual names.

He says “wowie” for “owie” and believes firmly in the magic and power of mom-kisses on injuries.

He goes through all of life – the ups and downs, happy times and sad – with his sidekick, Raff the giraffe.


He has been pooping on the potty for several months, a trick that he taught himself, despite my persistent dissuasion. “Poo poo potty?” “No, son. That’s why we wear diapers. Ain’t nobody got time for that with an 18 month old and a newborn.” (He did, though. He had time.)

He falls asleep by sucking his tongue and playing with Raff’s ears, a habit I kinda hope he doesn’t outgrow until college.

He is freakishly coordinated.

He makes this face when he contemplates disobeying:


He is one of my very greatest joys in life, and I cannot believe he’s already 2 years old. (Although he reminds me regularly. It’s like they have a birthday radar. Their birthday hits and BOOM, ACTIVATE TERRIBLE TWOS.)

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Hutton, my man, there is nary a person who meets you that doesn’t walk away smiling. You have eyes full of mischief and a heart full of big love. (And a stomach full of bananas and “zizza”.)

Our prayer for you, sweet one, is that you continue to grow into a mighty warrior for God. That you use your physical strength to stand up for what’s right and for those who cannot stand up for themselves. We pray that you will become a gentle giant with a fierce appetite for the Lord and a life full of integrity.

Your first two years were pretty fabulous…I can’t wait to see how we grow to love you even more in year 3.

[PS if you fancy yourself a cyber-celebration, check out his Monster Truck Bash party in this post. It was a smashin’ success.]

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