Cerin Amroth

These days, what wakes me up most mornings is Ella’s singing. Well, wakes me up the _second_ time, I should say. What generally wakes Suanna and I both up the _first_ time is Ella walking into our room, standing on Suanna’s side of the bed (right by her ear), and saying “Wake UP, Mama!” and, if that doesn’t work, “Meeeeoooooowww!” All this at ten to five or so, which means me getting up and putting her back in bed and explaining that it’s not quite time to get up yet.

Suanna gets up with her a little while later, and I go back to sleep, and then around 7:30, the singing. Ella stands on the couch or in the center of the living room and belts out a medley that generally includes elements from The Hokey Pokey, He’s Got the Whole World In His Hands, a handful of songs from Blue’s Clues, and whatever else strikes her fancy. She can’t yet hold a tone, but she can definitely hold a note, which she does to conclude the movements of her medley, with her hands in the air. I would love to know if she is imagining herself in front of an audience or not.

This morning’s new twist: hearing other things sing. After she had climbed into bed and jumped on me until I opened my eyes, she turned her head all the way to the side and murmured a few notes, _sotto voce_. Then she looked at me with surprise: “Daddy! Did you hear that? It’s the Singing Bridge!” This routine had been going on with Suanna all morning: “(murmur murmur murmur) Mama! I hear the Singing Bridge!”

You’ll catch her belting out a “tune” at other times in the day, too, but for whatever reason, it mostly happens in the morning.

First, a bit of exposition: Ella and I are both fans of Blue’s Clues. In her case the admiration was instant and overwhelming; I was considerably more skeptical of the show, but ultimately the music won me over. This is most evident in _Blue’s Big Musical Movie_, which I got on Netflix for the second time recently. _BBMM_ has a number of catchy tunes that get stuck in my head but, unlike plentyr of annoying pop songs or children’s songs, I don’t actually _mind_ are stuck in my head.

One inspirational anthem in there is “Don’t Give Up,” which, in the story, Steve uses to motivate assorted characters who are nervous about their roles in the upcoming musical production, but ultimately he must use to inspire himself to continue to try to do what he has never done: actually find one of Blue’s clues _himself_. The chorus goes:

Dooooon’t give up!
Just go ooooooon!
(When something goes wroooong)
Dooooon’t give up!
Just go ooooooon!
(You’ve just got tooooo get oooon)
Dooooon’t give up!
Just go ooooooon!
etc. etc.

Anyway, to today’s anecdote: I made a bad call and decided to head for the grocery store on Duke Street during the early minutes of rush hour. Consequently we got stuck in a long line of cars waiting for their turn to get through a traffic light. After a couple minutes of this, Ella peeped from the back seat:

“Daddy? Are we stuck?”

“No, Ella — we’re just waiting for the traffic light. It’ll take a few minutes.”

After a couple more minutes, we hadn’t made appreciable progress.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Ella?”

“Don’t give up. Just go on!”

Today was a Lego day. In the morning Ella built a “house” and a “playground” out of her Legos, and we played with those for quite a while. Hours later, after her afternoon nap, she woke up with something on her mind. The way she made a beeline for the Legos, you could tell that she had been either dreaming or daydreaming about what she wanted to do when she woke up. What was really jaw-dropping about it is that right after her nap is her usual time for watching something on DVD — a ritual that she never forgets. I even asked her, somewhat surprised, “Ella, don’t you want to watch Peep?” “NO daddy — let’s play Lego’s! Sit down!”

Though she’ll imitate stuff that she’s seen me build before, when we’re playing together, I am there to roleplay some of the Lego people once some sort of structure is in place for them to interact with or around. Ella wants no help in actually putting things together, except on the occasion when she has trouble taking pieces apart or making one fit. All the while she is quiet and focused, with her lips pursed in intense concentration.

Ella suffered her first real injury yesterday — the first one that has lingered, that hasn’t been completely forgotten ten minutes after the fact. While cavorting about on the couch, she somehow stubbed or jammed her toe. There was the usual round of tears, and the kisses to make it all better, but when she tried to take a few steps a few minutes later, and it _still_ hurt, you could just see the sense of betrayal and confusion on her face: “Why is there still pain?! Didn’t it get _kissed_? By _both_ of them?!”

Today, you’d never know it was bothering her by her behavior. She’s as chipper as ever, even as she walks to and fro with a little limp that favors her right foot. We need a word for something that is overwhelmingly cute and pathetic in equal measure. I’m just floored that she’s been able to adjust so quickly, that she isn’t in bitter tears again this morning at her inability to walk normally. Instead I watch her hobble across the room with a stack of books to read to me, muttering “Ow!” under her breath with a tone not of frustration or grief, but fleeting annoyance.