Cerin Amroth

Going through our holiday pictures with an eye for Ella-centric shots, I made a delightful discovery: there weren’t too many of them. That is to say, there were lots of them, but there weren’t _too_ many. It wasn’t excessive. I find this to be something of a relief.

“356″:http://www.polytropos.org/mt-static/ella/ella356.jpg — Here, Ella prepares for the westward journey. She was greatly relieved to learn that we were driving, not walking.
“357″:http://www.polytropos.org/mt-static/ella/ella357.jpg — “Last year”:http://www.polytropos.org/ella/archives/2005/01/pictures_christ.html my cousin Laura did some portrait shots of my family; this year she did a number on Suanna’s. Here’s one of the better ones of Suanna, Ella, and me.
“358″:http://www.polytropos.org/mt-static/ella/ella358.jpg — And here’s the whole Steeby clan.
“359″:http://www.polytropos.org/mt-static/ella/ella359.jpg — And here’s — wait. How did _my_ mom get a picture in the Steeby photo shoot?
“360″:http://www.polytropos.org/mt-static/ella/ella360.jpg — At the Children’s Museum in Grand Rapids, Ella explains something to her cousin Clara, complete with her Explaining Something hand gestures, rarely captured on film.
“361″:http://www.polytropos.org/mt-static/ella/ella361.jpg — Ella and Suanna.
“362″:http://www.polytropos.org/mt-static/ella/ella362.jpg — Ella and her cousin Lydia. Strawberry chapstick was a definite highlight, Christmas-present-wise.
“363″:http://www.polytropos.org/mt-static/ella/ella363.jpg — Pounding the ivory with Aunt Sarah.
“364″:http://www.polytropos.org/mt-static/ella/ella364.jpg — Sous la table with Papa.

I’ve always thought that it is cute that Ella talks to and with all her stuffed animals. I have had several conversations with Pooh, LTC (long tailed cat), mouse, and the whole gang. Today, however, she took the whole talking-inanimate-object cuteness too far. She and I went to the library this evening to get out some books and a DVD. As we were pulling out of our parking lot, she used one of her little people to ask me where we were going. I matter-of-factly answered back, as if I have conversations with plastic people all the time. (No, I don’t, for your information!) As per the usual, Ella asked me the same question at least four times.

On the fifth time, I glanced back in frustration and realized that Ella was pointing at me with her foot. When she asked the question again, I realized why. It wasn’t the little person who was asking me this time, but her tights. That’s right. She insisted that her tights wanted to know where we were going. I was so dumbfounded that I just answered back like I had all the other times. Even better, the tights asked me if they could come along. Then I proceeded to have a conversation with her tights — trying to change the subject, of course, so I didn’t have to continue to answer the same question five more times!

And lest I thought that was just an isloated event, her fork asked me several questions at dinner. This is just too weird!

It’s not uncommon, at the end of a long day, before Suanna’s back home from work, that I utter these words to Ella, or something similar:

“Ella, I need to relax for a little bit. I don’t want to play [zoo, trains, tea party, bookstore, Mr. Mouse, something else] right now. But I would be _very_ happy to sit down here on the couch and read you a book. How about you pick out a book and we can read it together?”

Sometimes it works, sometimes she pretends she doesn’t hear me and keeps sticking [Mr. Mouse, Pooh, the inflatable globe] in my face. Tonight’s response was new, however. After I pleaded for some quiet book time, she said “OK!” and trotted over toward the bookshelf, but came back not with a book but with her Little People house and 3 of said Little People. (Kara and Steve the Engineer, and also the Little Mermaid who is not technically a Little Person but belongs with them in Ella’s mind.) She plopped them all next to me on the couch. Kara and the mermaid sat inside, and Steve (under Ella’s control) came up to the front door.

“Guys[1]!” he said. “Guys! I wanna read a book! Let’s read a book!”

The women, I’m sad to say, did not comply. Without even opening the door, Kara replied (somewhat patronizingly, to my ears), “NO Steve. Not Right Now.”

This segued into a longer drama involving the three of them, most of which was far less intelligible. But it went on without me, and so I got my relaxation anyway . . .

fn1. Ella has also taken to using “guys” whenever she wants to address Suanna and me together.

1. Vulgarity

In Michigan over the holidays, Ella started saying “oh my GOSH!” It’s actually kinda cute when she does it. I remember as a child being told (rather sternly) that saying “oh my gosh” was the same as saying “oh my God” (presumably since the word-replacement was so obvious) and was therefore a sin: taking the Lord’s name in vain. The logic doesn’t really hold water, looking back on it now with wiser eyes, but nevertheless there’s something a tiny bit vulgar about it. Vulgar and cute.

Typical example of usage: The circus train is cruising along the windowsill. Giraffe, the engineer, and perhaps one of the Lego people are riding inside. Suddenly, it loses traction and plunges to the floor, all its cars in a tangle. Ella grabs George the monkey from behind her and holds him up so that he can survey the scene, and then chrips (on his behalf) “oh my GOSH!”

We wondered at first about where on earth she had picked up the phrase, since we didn’t think we ever used it. But keeping an ear open in the ensuing weeks has clearly outed Suanna as the culprit. In any case, we are encouraging her to say “oh my GOODNESS” instead. The other day, while she was playing by herself, I overheard her say “oh my GOS — oh my GOONESS!”

2. Deceit

I recently came into possession of a Star Wars Pez set, featuring a whole raft of Pez dispensers ranging from R2-D2 to Chewbacca to General Grievous to the Death Star. The other day I let Ella play with the Darth Vader and Boba Fett dispensers — both empty. The Chewbacca dispenser, filled with lemon-flavored pez, sat on the edge of my desk. I was typing something or other and Ella was playing in my general proximity, eventually positioning herself under the desk at my feet.

A few minutes later I had one of those moments when I realized — “Man, she’s being _awfully_ quiet for the past five minutes or so!” I glanced surreptitiously under the table to see what she was up to.

She had swiped the Chewbacca dispenser from the desk — something I had explicitly forbidden earlier that day. She was lying on her side with her back to me, slightly curled in on herself, and she was very very slowly, very very quietly taking pez from Chewbacca, one at a time. She was even taking pains to suck on the pez and not chomp down on one, thus reating a sound that might have alerted me.

“Ella . . .” I said. She immediately picked up Boba Fett, who said “Hi!” to Chewbacca and gave him a kiss. As if that’s all that had been going on down there the whole time.

I was honestly too impressed with her to be angry. We’ll see how long _that_ lasts.