Boys are from Pluto (Even though it isn't a planet anymore)

I've come to discover that Henry is weird. Not weird in a bad way, just maybe that all 2 year olds have a touch of the weird. Perhaps it is because my mother prayed I'd have children like me.

Henry enjoys spinning in circles. Spinning on the couch. Spinning while sitting down. Spinning while stomping. Spinning while playing the drums. Often, he screams "Woun, woun, wound" as he's spinning. When I see him doing this, I'll say, "Look at you spinning, Wild Man!" and then he'll run across the room (drunkenly) screaming, "Wi Man! Wi Man!"

Last night, the wild man showed up in the bathtub. As in, Henry would lay on his stomach and start kicking and splashing while yelling at the top of his lungs, "Wi Man! Wi Man!"

Or we'll be sitting nicely on the couch, reading "Go, Dog, Go!" for say, oh I don't know, the 10th time in a day. Then he'll stand on the couch, scream, "Hiding" and then begin to burrow in the pillows. If you lift the pillows to look for him, he will actually go underneath the seat cushions. Through his guffaws of laughter, you'll hear a little voice yelping, "Hiding!"

He has also effectively learned the word help. Remember how his speech teacher wanted him to request help? Well, he's learned the word help. Except when Henry says it, he sounds as though he is sending some sort of distress signal. "HELLLLLLP! HELLLLLLP!" He sounds so pitiful you think assuredly he is trapped under a fallen tree. Nope. He is simply sitting on the couch, pointing at the TV with the wrong remote. "Help", to Henry, does not mean, "Hey, I'm trying my best, but I need a little assistance." Help to Henry means, "Do this thing for me. And do it now." I think he gets this from me as I actually have been known to sit on the couch, throw Sloan the remote and say, "I am ready to watch TV now." (Thanks for your prayers, Mom.)

And each day he will select a toy that he will carry with him all day long. Today it was one of those old school telephones, the ones with the eyes and the red pull string. Not the easiest toy to take with you to the doctor's office or the adoption agency. Yesterday, it was a large orange car. On good days, it is a train or a matchbox car. And if you were wondering what the maximum number of matchbox cars that Henry can successfully carry around at one time--eleven.

Sometimes I just look at him and think, "What are you doing? You are so weird. You're so...male. Thank God I have your Dad to explain you to me. But come to think of it, he's pretty weird too."