So let me tell you about my genius.

He's very special. And I mean that in the kindest, mom-est way ever.

I've spent the past two days with him, days that have been filled with laughter, tears, frustration, glee, cat torture, vertical blind destruction, signs of OCD, and signs of his genius, something I know he is and is just waiting to burst through and surprise us all!

I hope.

Truthfully? He's the most perfect child for me because I find just about everything he does (except when he's torturing the cat or trying to destroy what vertical blinds we have left in our living room) really funny. Add when he's pulling my hair or hitting me or throwing hard toys to my list of "excepts." But all his quirks really are a hoot. Too me. And that's all that really matters.

Here are a few of his highlights:

1. We spent 30 minutes in his room yesterday while he quietly, intently, and somewhat manically took out one crayon, drew one line (sometimes two), put the crayon back, picked another crayon, took it out, drew one line, put that crayon back, so on and so forth. I got stuck holding the box of crayons upright because otherwise the bottom would have fallen out on him, causing a crayon catastrophe that he would say "OOOOOHHHHHH NOOOOOOOO!!!" about.

At some point he decided to lay one crayon at a time in his desk drawer in a nice even line of crayons; that is until he filled the drawer up and crayons were dropping to the rug, causing him to get off the chair, pick up the crayon and monkey himself (with some help) back onto the chair to try again. Eventually he realized they weren't all going to fit in the drawer, took hold of as many as he could and put them back in the crayon box, one crayon at a time.

At one point I got so bored tired that I felt I could fall asleep while he was OCDing on crayons. I put a stop to it all by taking the box, picking out two crayons, which is his maximum for drawing (unless he's OCDing), closed the box and stuck it up waaaaay high so he couldn't get to it anymore. It would have been cruel of me to let him go on, correct?

2. For dinner he enjoyed some yogurt. He hasn't had much of an appetite since he got sick, so whatever he does eat, I'm trying to ensure it's got fat, calories, protein and vitamins. So dinner was yogurt. I was loading up the dishwasher while he was flinging spoonfuls of yogurt eating. When I got the last dish into the dishwasher, I turned around to find him with a bowl of yogurt on his head.

Now, he's done this before, but he hasn't done this recently. I sorta, kinda, stupidly thought this would stop with age (come on, he's 20 months - old enough to know better!). Before I could get to him and all the while laughing at him, he took the bowl off his head, flung some yogurt around, then put the bowl back on his head. He loves a good audience, and I am definitely that. Looking for laughs? Put that bowl of yogurt on your head and Mom is sure to laugh at you! his brain tells him.

For a split second I had to decide if I should grab my camera, which was right next to me, but my camera card wasn't, so I gave up on that idea since the yogurt situation was getting, ahem, a little sticky. Do I need to mention I gave him a bath afterward? But before I did, thought, he was running around with a removable jacket hood on his head. Yes, that is my boy.

3. We went to his grandma's house this morning to pick up a whole mess of stuff she had at her house for me. She was in the midst of her morning beauty regime (which scared the poop out of Mateo, I must say), and after he became more comfortable with Grandma (and after she took those scary rollers out of her hair), Mateo proceeded to take each roller and hair clip out of the plastic bag they were in, hand it to his Grandma, who then had to put whatever was handed to her on her head...or else! Or else the OCD monster would come out! I excused myself to take the opportunity to load up my car with my whole mess of stuff because I was having crayon flashbacks and sorta kinda knew this scene could go on all day if someone allowed it.

4. He's started calling his favorite blanket, and what is more affectionately known as "woobie," his "baby." I thought he was actually calling it "woobie," but then today I heard him clearly say "BABY!" when I handed it to him when we got in the car. How cute is that? Just about the cutest of all things cute, at least as far as my kid goes.

And with all this said, it's been a pretty good two days with him, even though he's hacking and sneezing and is totally snotty and I'm pretty sure he's passed his cooties on to me and I'll be sick tomorrow. I wouldn't ask for anything different. Except for the cooties. And the crying. And the cat torture, blind wrecking, throwing toys and the hair pulling.