Cerin Amroth

When I was a kid, albeit a little older than Ella is now, I can vividly remember how brutal my father’s punishments were. Not physically, mind you. There was no spanking. No, he would talk. He would lecture. He would discuss what it was I had done wrong, and the implications of the act, both immediate and long-term, and he would make me vocalize my understanding, answer direct questions, and in general be a part of the process. And when all that was over he would keep talking for a while, making me wait patiently for the agony to end. Given a choice between that treatment and a spanking, I think I would have picked the spanking.

And what did I catch myself doing earlier today, but the exact same thing, with Ella. She had caught Dominic playing with her toys and had pushed him rather roughly away. So I walked into her room and told her to follow me, and I went on at some length about the importance of sharing and of using words to express her feelings, and acknowledged the burden and responsibility of big-sisterhood. I made her talk about what she did wrong and asked her what she thought might be a better way to handle the situation the next time. And somewhere toward the end up it I caught that look her eye, the look I knew all to well, that said “Dear Lord in heaven, if there is any thing that I can say or do that will make him stop talking, by all that is holy in the world reveal it to me now!”

It’s so nice when the youngest child is old enough that your kids start playing together. You see them exploring the world together, sharing stories, and discovering ways to solve problems together. … Or maybe that’s what it will be like in a year or two. For now, the playing together usually means Ella manhandling Dominic, and him screaming with delight — which is sometimes followed by screaming with frustration.

This morning, I was in the bathroom getting ready for work. As the door opened, I saw Ella walking down the hall, dragging Dominic by the foot of his pajamas. He had a huge smile on his face and was laughing away. When I told her to stop the dragging, she started in on the tickle attack — sitting nearly on top of him and thrusting her fingers under his chin. He continued to smile and giggle with delight. That lead to her laying on top of him. At some point, he wriggled free from underneath her and there was general wrestling and rolling around on the floor.

Finally, Dominic reached his limit and started to make protests. Fortunately, Ella had already decided to move on to something else. Dominic is big for his age, but I’m just waiting for the day that he’s a little bigger and starts to take the upper hand.

We had such wonderful weather here yesterday that I decided on my walk home from work that I was going to take the kids out after supper tonight. Ella and I were very excited to be wearing our sandals for the first time, and Dominic just finds excitement infectious (his sandals are still too big).

I grabbed the recycling to take outside with me. I paused at the doorway to set it down, and Dominic was already running into the backyard. Before I could look again to see where he was headed, I heard the clang of the gate into the alley. Man, can he move fast. I had to run after him to prevent him from running into the alley.

He was following after me as I was dragging the recycling containers to the curb. I propped the front gate open, so I could get one of the containers out. Dominic didn’t waste any time. He ran out of the gate and started running down the sidewalk. My calls after him only propelled him faster. I had to apply nearly all my speed to catch up with him. So much for the cautious first child!

After we went to the grocery store, we went across the street to watch a little of the baseball game by the YMCA. (You read right, Papa and Gumpa. I took the kids to a baseball game!) Surprisingly, Dominic did display some caution there. He was content to sit on my lap. When I did put him down, he stepped carefully up to the fence. So maybe his brazen behavior before had more to do with the familiar surroundings. I’m still amazed, though, how fast he can move.

Suanna picked up a fairy princess costume at a thrift store for Ella on a whim — it was only a dollar.  Who would have guessed that it would take over her life?  She loves all the pink ruffles, the diaphonous wings, and the tiara.  I do make her change into regular clothes for preschool, but every other living moment she prances around the apartment saying “I am the fairy princess of flowers and cupcakes.  Daddy, aren’t I beautiful?”  Then she arranges all her stuffed animals on her bed and conscripts Dominic and me to help her decide which one is the cutest that day.

It’s just adorable.