I absolutely love watching Ethan and Niel play together.
It usually starts off sweet. They would toddle around the room chasing each other, their bellies run ahead of their feet.
I can hear laughter, and occasional screams. Good screams, the one we enjoy to hear.
It's a video camera moment.
But not for long….
Usually, in less than ten minutes, hugging becomes flinging.
Niel would usually grabs the Ethan around the waist, leans his head against him, grins and babbles.
Most often, Ethan responds by dropping himself to the floor laughing and let Niel sit on him, giggling.
Flinging becomes wrestling. Wrestling results in head stomping or chest crushing.
Giggles evolve into tears. I should probably stop it before it even begins.
But I can't.
With Malakai, my oldest, I would never let any kid rough-edge him when he was that young. Maybe I was over protective of a boy? Or is it just a first born syndrome?
But with Ethan and Niel it is different.
When I watch them standing there with their arms around each other, their heads together and those untamed smiles on their faces, I am reminded of their infancy. I remember when I would put them down at night crossways on opposite sides of their cot only to find them together in the middle minutes later with their heads touching. Sometimes, they would hold hands.
They don't intend to hurt each other during their rough play.
They just get carried away.
I like to think that they get too aggressive simply because of their need to be physically close to each other.
Aggressive affection. Sweet huh?!
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