Swing Low...

Dearest Sweet Most of the Time Henry, 
I can only guess that the actions I've seen from you in the last 6 weeks are due to the growth spurt you seem to be experiencing...or you're pulling into "Terrible Two's Station" early to make sure you make the most of it.  I realize that most of my letters are pretty glowing and for good reason.  90% of the time you are under control all on your own and manage your moods, need for sleep, quiet time or a snack easily by giving me clear calm hints.  You've had a few really over the top days in the last couple of months.  When I say over the top I mean like Mt Tambora eruption sized.  (Yes! I did google "largest volcanic eruptions on record" to ensure I was delivering this simile proper.) Rumblings that no loving hands, kind words or empathetic looks could convince you all was right in the world.  
Exhibit 1:  Dinner.  You and the corn you love so much struggled.  Oh how you struggled!  You ended up making a call from the buttery cob to some imaginary force with pleas to relieve you of the bores that your parents are.  You went to bed early that night.  

 Exhibit 2: for Dadoo's birthday we went to the ceramic shop to paint him his very own cookie plate.  "Everyday Henry" checked out and Tambora Henry entered.  You wailed, flicked paint aggressively, pulled over a water bowl, and threw things all over the floor.  We got stares Henry!  They weren't the adoring ones you normally have lavished upon you.  I'm gonna say it, we better keep that cookie plate full of cookies so we don't see the mess it turned out to be.  It was to read Dadoo's Cookie Plate, as you can see we didn't make it to that.  

Yes, Henry, I made sure we had a good lunch before we arrived, you had napped,  I brought your booster seat so you could see what you were doing, and I stayed calm.  We finished up our painting quickly.  I drove directly home to put you down for another nap.  You seriously almost died on the 12 foot journey from the car to house.  Well, at least your legs stopped working and you couldn't hold my hand, or even think about making it the easy step up into the kitchen.  You stood there with your sweet baby cheek pressed to the side of the rough house wailing.  You would not allow me to help you one way or another. You'd tense up and arch, stomp your little feet as if putting out a fire with in. Finally you came in and you went down for a nap.  

I thought you seemed more chipper when you awoke so I decided to make the play dough described in the previous post.  These two photos were snapped in the same 60 seconds.  Such range you have!  Ten minutes later you were all smiles with the play dough, see previous post.

 Mama wanted to write this one to highlight how great you really are, not how you have a couple of crappy days out of approx. 515 you have been in the world.  How fortunate we have been to have YOU as our son.  The sweet boy that gently sweeps Mama's bangs from my eyes or gives bunny kisses with Dadoo.  These events were so out of your normal personality, the exceptions to the rules of usual Peepdom, that they made me love you even more.  Just when I think that is just so impossible it becomes possible.
I love you even when...unconditional.
Love, Mama