A few hours together in the house and we all need a break from each other (or at the very least a drive in the car and stop at the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru for iced coffee (mine) and Munchkins (theirs), aka Leo crack. Those blessed few moments where they can’t touch each other because they’re strapped into car seats: Bliss.
But then sometimes I turn around and see this (there was no coercing to get this shot, I swear):
When they’re apart, they ask for each other. One of Ellie’s first sentences ever was “Where’s Leo?” It’s usually the first thing she says when we come downstairs in the morning. On those rare occasions when it’s just Leo and me (doctor’s appointments, usually) and Ellie’s at daycare and Leo’s riding solo in the backseat he can’t stop with the questioning and the demand: “Ellie? Ellie!” I explain to him that Ellie's at her school. We'll see her tonight. "Yea, yea," Leo says, nodding in agreement. A few beats later: "Ellie? Ellie!"
They’ve started conspiring with each other. I’m not sure who discovered that the slight slope in the corner of our bathtub could be used as a slide (I know, who knew?) but it’s become a nightly slide-fest at our house. Just what I want, two small, slippery, naked people cannon balling into six inches of bath water. But apparently they need each other or it’s not as fun. Last night Leo got out of the bath first and Erin was drying him off in the next room. Ellie was trying to slide and calling “Leo? Leo?” Keep in mind that only minutes before, Leo had been swiping Ellie not so gently with a sopping wash cloth. Guess it's just not as fun to slide without an audience.
I just find it funny and sweet. Most of the time they play OK together. We’re working on sharing (it’s a work in progress). I call Ellie “ninny” under my breath several times a day because seriously she cries and whines about everything Leo does to her (even you know, breathing), when it's clearly unwarranted and completely benign. She runs to me to save the day more times in an hour than I can count. Leo is no better. He takes Ellie’s digs (stolen Dogs, misappropriated grapes) very personally. He has a special expression used only when “hurt” by Ellie. It’s a pout that rivals Molly Ringwald’s crossed with the furrowed brow of a cartoon character.
Clearly they aggravate the crap out of each other. But I don't think they would have it any other way.
2 comments:
so bizarre, how they turn on each other and in a heartbeat are the best of friends. (it's going on as i type, on the floor of my office.) i remember when my sister would annoy me by breathing!
I've really been enjoying reading about your two little ones, but this post was especially wonderful. It's so true that as much as kids bicker and fight, they really do need and care about one another. Looking forward to reading more :)
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