Slippery Slopes
Stuffing his hands into his pockets Tony paced, finally wandering into the sunroom where he leaned against the doorframe, surveying the backyard. A family of cardinals chattered as they searched for the birdseed Ava and Levi had distributed for them. A week ago the outdoor space had defined the house by an abundance of grass, bushes, trees, and flowers. Now anyone passing would glimpse the outdoor toys and bikes and understand that a family with a focus on its children occupied the premises.
Those five little humans now defined his own sense of self, Tony admitted, resting the back of his head on the hard wood of the doorframe.
Life interrupted.
Spying an empty juice box on a side table, Tony grabbed it and then took a couple of minutes to straighten the sunroom before moving into the kitchen. He unloaded the dishwasher and visually checked the refrigerator's contents, making a note on the grocery list for eggs and juice.
After that, working quickly and steadily, he managed to wash, dry, and fold two loads of laundry before he heard Elijah calling him.
Naptime was over.
Reality upended him.
To Tony's horror, the next day eradicated all of the progress he had forged the day before with household chores and efforts to forge ahead on the minutiae of tending such a large family. Working like a madman Sunday afternoon, he had supervised organizing of belongings and toys, as well as assigning daily chores to all five of them, commiserate with their ages. Recalling the chart his abuela had debuted with him as a preschooler, he listed the chores and days and which child was responsible for what task. Inserting a column, he created a space for the kids to verify when they finished their tasks, and one where he could add a final validation.
For the most part, his explanation and the first formal implementation went without ripples through the ranks. However, Tony reminded himself as he stood, arms folded, watching as they found their names and familiarized themselves with their duties, they had all been responsible for most of their chores on the list since the day they got there.
Even Vivienne had an expected duty, to take laundry from the presorted hamper and sort it into one of three baskets of soiled clothing- whites, reds, and darks. Urging her the night before to itemize the pieces in the laundry room, she had delighted in earning his effusive praise at the task. It took a bit of finagling to convince her not to return the clothing to the presorted hamper, though.
Guiding her hand under his own, Tony waited as clutching a crayon in a chubby fist, she made a check by her name on the chart.
As the tallest, Ethan, had the task of putting all linen away into the closet as well as making sure the towels and sheets were folded. The itemized duties took precedence in his assignment column.
Little Elijah discovered himself responsible for transferring their kitchen recycling to the outdoor receptacles, and then dividing the contents into either the paper or the glass and aluminum bins. Ava and Levi shared responsibility for the morning and evening loading and unloading of the dishwasher.
Despite their united pleas for fewer expectations, Tony held firmly upon his established sense of shared responsibility. His father and abuela had reared him that way, and not a day of his young life had passed without his contributing to the general betterment of the household with one task or another.
As he had done, he insisted that all five put away their own clothes, keep their rooms neat, put up toys, and straighten the bathroom after they bathed. The new chores joined those he already expected them to complete.
Despite Ava and Levi's dramatic announcements, loud sighs, and complaints that they felt too exhausted to hang up their own clothing or put toys back into the toybox, his consistency with the expectation that they do so in timely manners worked. Even Viv and Elijah now turned around to look behind them before leaving a room, often running back to stuff a toy into the proper toy receptacle.
Ethan balked often, physically and verbally displaying his lack of solidarity with the plan. He usually attempted to wear Tony down through a series of interrogative catch phrases. Why did he have to do the chore? Who else in the world did it? How come he got picked and someone else did not? Wasn't it stupid to put something up when he was coming back in an hour or two and would keep playing with it?
Until Tony actually lost his temper and snapped a final order to obey immediately or expect a punishment, Ethan would continue like a broken record, his voice running the gamut from whining to belligerent.
Feeling his patience shatter into shards of incredulity, Tony would force himself to focus on the fact that his adversary at the moment was twenty years his junior. Clenching his jaw to keep his anger intact, he would blink away images of his own futile showdowns with Jethro, and swallow away the memory of his abuela promising him that one day he would have a little boy who acted just as he did.
Look at where life led the once carefree and oblivious!
Monday dawned and somehow-somehow it transformed five semi cooperative children from the previous day into an army of antagonists intent upon taking him down through some inexplicable and unforeseen kiddie mutiny.
Before Tony shoved the aluminum cookie sheet of frozen waffles into the oven to bake for breakfast, vicious, angry shouts and screams of "Daddy!" forced a pause.
One hand gripping the pan and the other clutching the oven handle, he stood poised, hoping that the situation would resolve itself without his intervention.
The sound of running feet and more demands for his presence negated his plan.
Slamming the tray into the oven he muttered under his breath before striding decisively towards the bedrooms.
Ava ran smack into him, followed by Elijah, who grabbed Tony's hand. "Come, the Daddy! Vivienne bit Ava and she was bad, bad!"
Tony crouched down to examine Ava, whose tear streaked face sported the undeniable imprint of a tiny set of teeth on her cheek. On the positive front, it appeared the skin hadn't been broken.
He raised her chin and tilted it to check for other injuries, just to be safe.
In case he had not interpreted the crisis accurately, Elijah put both small palms on Tony's shoulders and spoke seriously. "The baby did it, Daddy."
Despite the seriousness of the situation Tony could not restrain a grin. "Got it, little helper. Now you go finish putting on your clothes and straightening your room for me, ok?"
Tony stood and turned the tiny body to face the opposite direction, and with a pat to Elijah's bottom, directed him to the room the boys shared.
"Hmmm," Tony bit the side of his lip as he scrutinized Ava again. What he would love to do would be to snatch the path of least resistance, announce that no permanent harm had transpired, and simply slide right back into his breakfast duties.
Ava's lip turned down. "It hurt, Daddy."
He sighed, and a stab of guilt washed over him. "Right, Honey, I can see that it did."
Sighing, he motioned her forward and back to her room.
The itty bitty adversary, Vivienne, stood by Ava's bed, stretching on tiptoes to set her cloth doll up on the mattress. When she spied their entrance her brows knit and scowling, she popped her fingers into her little rosebud mouth and pressed her face against the comforter.
His heart melted, and privately he thought she was just too cute and cherubic to chastise, even with the evident start of a toddler rap sheet.
Tony raked his hand through his hair. How, exactly, did real parents deal with situations like this?
He sank down on the end of the bed and then leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Vivi, come over here to me."
Sucking furiously, she toddled over and he held her in place at his knees. Rubbing her soft blond hair he made eye contact with the soft blue eyes. "Now, I see that you bit Ava, bit her on the cheek, and that is not behavior that is allowed. We do not bite each other."
Vivienne scowled, and struggled to wrench herself from Tony's grasp.
Justified in her status as victim, Ava crossed her arms across her chest and shook her head agreeably.
"Nevertheless," Tony continued, watching Viv. "She upset you about something, and I bet I can guess what that something was." He looked pointedly at the doll, the only real toy the baby had owned when he took custody of her.
Tilting his head, he inclined it towards Ava.
That caught the older child by surprise, and she scrambled to defend herself. "All I did, I asked to see her doll just a second," Ava admitted.
"More than that," Tony insisted, "because seeing would not have gotten Viv that badly upset. So then what exactly happened to cause her to bite you?"
"I borrowed the doll just for a minute," Ava insisted, her voice rising. "I only borrowed it "cause I was giving it back. Right back, Daddy. I told her I just wanted to hold it only for a second!"
"Ok, now hush with that tone of voice," Tony ordered firmly. "Don't yell."
She clamped a hand over her mouth.
He massaged his temples in a circular motion, vaguely wishing he could massage in wisdom and experience before he spoke sternly. "That doll does not belong to you, and you had no right to take it without Vivienne's ok, when you failed to get her permission. My expectation is that we all respect each other's belongings in this house. That means that you treat everyone's toys the way you want yours treated, and you absolutely do not take something not yours. Do you understand me?"
Ava nodded and loosened her hand over her mouth, but focused on a spot to the side of Tony.
Recalling the mantra always demanded at Jethro's behest, Tony shook his head, "No, I expect a verbal response. Answer me, young lady."
How many times had a version of those very words flown from his father's mouth?
A trembling response followed. "I understand, yes."
"Good, because you owe our Vivi an apology, and because you made the decision to snatch her toy, I will punish you. You are spending the next few minutes in time out."
Ava burst into tears and Vivienne regarded him in shock, fingers dangling from her lips.
Addressing the second misdeed, Tony spoke sternly to Vivienne. "And you, my little Tyson, do not get to bite when you are upset or mad. We do not hurt each other because someone took something of ours. That is when you come get me and let me handle it."
He rubbed his mouth. Life would just simplify if Vivienne would begin to talk. That way she could accuse immediately and tattle anytime her heart desired.
Vivienne's lip began to wobble instead.
Tony stayed strong, though. "So, you will join Ava in timeout, right now, because I plan to supervise both of your punishments. You two need time to process a couple of the rules of the household here. We will not take things that belong to others and we certainly will not bite one another."
Rising dramatically he pointed Ava to the chair by the window and Vivi to the little bench and waited for them to take their places. Reiterating the reason for their punishment, he made a show of watching the clock, then glancing at them.
Standing silently, he mentally reviewed a menu of movies belonging in his video repertoire which featured children- small children, and tried to match their behavior to Viv or Ava's. Discarding one after the other, he blew out a hiss of annoyance.
Giving up, he decided no plot lined up with his real life scenario.
Waiting patiently, their tears finally trickled to a finish. After a surreptitious check a moment later, he felt satisfied that the girls appeared pretty remorseful. Once he located the box of Kleenex, he had first one blow her nose, then the other, before informing them that he expected better behavior from that point.
Crisis averted, or solved, he supposed.