The Found Art Of Play

I'm a stay at home mom. 

I've been in my current position for a decade. 

We lived in Chicago when Zoe was born and child care expenses were out of our budget.  

It made sense for me to stay home.  

I think that my decision to stay home was, in a way, preparing me for what would happen to Zoe later on. 

Zoe got sick at age 5. 

She missed that crucial time where her imagination was really taking off. 

As her mother, I had worked hard at showcasing to her the interests of art. 

Music. 

Dance. 

But, when she got sick, it all got put on hold. 

Instead of sitting in her room playing with stuffed animals, she was always sleeping.

She had just enough energy that first year to watch movies.  

And to draw. 

And as her parents, we didn't force her to do anything she didn't want to do. 

She was a whopping 37 pounds when she was 6 1/2 years old. 

The chemo sucked her life away at times. 

Being a sick child in a children's hospital didn't mean she was riding her IV pole down the hallway laughing as she went. 

She didn't paint her bald head. 

Her head was never completely bald. 

She wouldn't allow us to touch her hair. 

Whatever was left she wouldn't let us shave. 

Her hair was all she could control. 

She kept the straggly strands that wouldn't fall out. 

Her hair fell out and grew back three times. 

When her port was accessed she didn't like to move around too much. 

She certainly wouldn't hitch a ride on her IV pole anywhere. 

She would walk very slowly. 

With her shoulders hunched over. 

Looking like she was 95 years old. 

She was always afraid the needle would come out. 

Like it did once at home when she had a violent vomiting episode. 

Her life was filled with needles sticking out of her chest instead of playing. 

Her sister is currently at that age that Zoe missed. 

Gigi is 6 1/2 and almost 55 pounds. 

Gigi plays with her dolls.

With her stuffed animals. 

With her 2,216 My Little Pony figurines. 

She has a lot of figurines. 

Her imagination is out of control. 

Which is where it should be at this age. 

I understand that my girls are individuals. 

That they play differently. 

That they think with two entirely different melons. 

But kids do have days upon days of imaginary play between the ages of 5 and 7 

And now that Zoe isn't sick anymore, the imaginary play has emerged. 

Zoe is 10 1/2 now. 

She's wearing deodorant. 

And watching YouTube videos about cats singing and people tripping over sidewalks. 

Other girls her age seem to be interested in boys and who they are going to call next on their iPhone. 

But not Zoe. 

She's busy playing with her sister.

Catching up on lost time. 

Just two girls and their figurines. 

Locked in their room letting their imaginations explode. 

With mom always at home

I'm just in the other room...

Having Daughters

Daughters. 

I have daughters. 

Two in fact. 

And it can be a tough world for girls. 

It always has been. 

They are lucky, though, that they live in the U.S. 

Where their individualities can be celebrated.  

But, there are still obstacles that girls must overcome to live a fulfilled life. 

And as a mother, it's my job in my household to strengthen my girls to become fabulous women. 

I allow my girls to express their uniqueness. 

With their hair, their clothing, their accessories. 

In hopes that if they are allowed to be creative at a young age, it will continue throughout their entire lives. 

Creativity heralds itself in many ways. 

Through art. 

Photography. 

Books and film. 

We try to show our girls all of it. 

Not just "age-appropriate" material. 

This notion that permeates the parenting air really needs to stop. 

I mean, I'm not out showing my children porn by any means, but they see stuff. 

In art and film and in photos. 

Of beauty and love and life. 

Because it's out there. 

And if anyone is going to show it to them, I want it to be me. 

I want my daughters to know about their bodies. 

How they work and why certain things happen. 

I've written about this in a past post.

Zoe still tells me "that I'm too young for this mother!"

I disagree. 

So I keep talking. 

And boys. 

I hope the mothers of boys are teaching them that girls are to be respected. 

That a girl should be able to express herself as she wishes without some sort of message being attached to it. 

A message that they think means "I can do what I want to you."

I want my daughters to respect their bodies and to know that their body belongs to them. 

So we talk about boundaries. 

And saying no. 

We haven't gotten too deep into this yet, though. 

They are young. 

But, it's my belief that if they hear something over and over and over, it will stick. 

I'm pretty liberal in my parenting manner. 

But one thing I'm tough on...manners. 

Table manners. 

No feet on the table. 

Sit on your butt. 

Use the utensils in front of you. 

They aren't decoration. 

Put the napkins you are provided with to use. 

And say thank you. 

Please. 

Call your friends' parents by Mr. and Mrs. only. 

Nothing irks me more than having a friend of my children calling me Jennifer. 

Kid, we aren't counterparts. 

Respect has gone out the back door and down the road with many children. 

Too much leniency at home in regards to adults. 

My children are told numerous times before going to a party, play date, etc with friends this statement..."if you need to speak to (insert friend's name here) mother/father, what do you call her/him?"

I'm met with the response of "Mrs. or Mr. (Insert friend's last name here)."

And I hear Zoe informing her friends when sitting in the back seat of our minivan "her name's Mrs. Pramuk" when they mutter to her "what's your mom's name?" 

Making and keeping friends can be daunting for girls. 

The drama of some female relationships rears it's loathsome head very early on in school. 

This is something new I now fear. 

I don't recall having to fight for a friendship in 2nd or 3rd grade. 

I think the biggest talks we have had in our home the last few years have been about friends. 

Telling our girls when they should walk away from someone that they thought was "on their side."

What I've learned so far in my daughters' 

school friendships...all is not as it always seems. 

The girls who come off as sweet when adults are around aren't necessarily showing their true colors. 

And we've had to say to Zoe "I don't think she's a good friend for you."

We aren't religious at all. 

But, we are raising our daughters on the virtue of goodness equals everything. 

And we explain the world's religions as much as we understand them. 

My husband was raised Catholic. 

So there's that understanding. 

Buddhism is fascinating to me. 

We try to showcase the world and it's differences. 

And we show them that other people are struggling. 

Or have struggled to get where they are now. 

We watch the world news. 

We watch documentaries on the civil rights movement. 

We watch shows and read books about the plights of their Native American ancestors. 

We have started to discuss what the Nazis did during WWII.  

We research polar bears and climate change together. 

So that they are aware. 

So they know the world isn't just their neighborhood. 

That it's big and can be scary sometimes, but that everyone needs to be aware of what's happening and if you can, you need to help. 

Zoe has seen that the world can be unfair. 

And that her friends can die. 

And that helps motivate her to give back. 

We give to the childhood cancer community. 

We are working on the Illinois license plate. 

We've explained to her that years of research in the area of childhood leukemia have kept her alive.

But that more research needs to be done.

New drugs need to be made. 

So she never has to lose another friend to a brain tumor. 

We teach them that knowledge is truly power. 

To love school. 

To love learning. 

If they don't know something, let's look it up. 

Having 21st Century daughters makes learning easy, actually. 

Want to find out what a graffiti painting by Banksy looks like?

Look it up on the internet. 

While you're siting in a restaurant. 

Eating pulled pork sandwiches. 

Then look up who first invented pulled pork sandwiches. 

Having daughters can be daunting. 

The arguments. 

The crying. 

The clothes stealing (Gigi is always taking her big sister's things much to the chagrin of 
Zoe.)

But, I'm glad to have them with me. 

Another set of estrogen souls for me to hang with. 

And to bond with. 

And to help shape into strong women.

I wouldn't know what to do with sons.  

This is part of a group blog post my Homesteaders and Homeschoolers group is writing...

Read more from Carla, Laura, and Melissa. 

All three women are raising daughters. 

Cancer Times Two

Gigi is now five. 

And her sister had cancer when she was five. 

Being the sibling of a child with cancer is tough. 

Tough in a completely different way than the horrible treatments her sister went through. 

But tough in an emotional sense. 

Gigi was 22 months old when her sister was diagnosed.

She spent a lot of time with my parents that first year of treatment.  

To the extent that she sometimes called grandma "mom."

That was hard for me to hear. 

But we had to devote our time to staying in the hospital overnight. 

Helping her sister with needle pokes and hair loss and nausea and the tears that followed. 

It was a hard situation for everyone in our family. 

And we made it through the worst part. 

Two years of chemo is behind us now. 

But cancer still enters our lives on a regular basis. 

The license plate campaign we are working on in Illinois. 

Camp COCO. 

Doctor visits with the forever patient, Zoe, for bloodwork. 

Now that she's older, Gigi often  wonders why she's left out of things...

Zoe has been the ribbon cutter at the opening ceremonies for the Midwest Charity Horse Show since 2012. 

Her third appearance at the event will be in a few weeks. 

Gigi recently asked me with a pouty look on her face "Why does Zoe always get to cut the ribbon and not me?"

Sigh. 

"Honey, I wish she wasn't the ribbon cutter at all, but she is. Because she had cancer."

I want to tell her that I wish we weren't doing a license plate for childhood cancer. 

That we didn't get to drop both of our girls off at cancer camp in July. 

That we weren't so friendly with the security guards at the hospital check-in desk. 

That the nurses on the 5th floor didn't get huge smiles when they see the brunette and blonde sisters. 

I wish none of it had happened. 

But it did.

And we have changed. 

And we are stronger. 

And our daughter is alive.

And there will always be sibling rivalry. 

I just thought it would be about boys in about 6 years. 

Not about cancer. 

But cancer has been Gigi's world  since before her second year of life. 

Two sisters...who both, in some sense, have had cancer.

Three More Days...

Thursday Zoe and I were back at the hospital. 

The hospital where we have spent countless hours at since September of 2010.  

A place we had never set foot in before and a place that now feels like a second home. 

Zoe likes to go to the 5th floor to visit the nurses. 

We had a press conference in her doctor's office on the main floor and so we headed up in the elevator to see who we could see. 

We received Zoe's paperwork that needs to be filled out for Camp COCO.  

The summer camp that she goes to for children with cancer and blood disorders.

But there were TWO applications in it this year!

If you have cancer and get invited to Camp COCO you can have your sibling come as well. 

When your sibling is six years old. 

Well, Gigi is only five. 

Was there a mistake?

When we were at Zoe's doctor's office on Thursday I asked the nurses about this. 

Nope. 

No mistake. 

They want Gigi to come this summer. 

So, Friday I began filling out two Camp COCO applications. 

 

Saturday. 

It's raining and slushy and blah out. 

I took Zoe to dance class. 

She was going boot shopping with grandma and grandpa after dance. 

They picked her up at class. 

The roads are okay. 

So, I went to the mall. 

No one was there. 

I went to Target. 

Again, pretty empty for a Saturday. 

But McDonalds had a line. 

And I was in it. 

Year End Review

2013 is coming to an end. 

Here's our family end of the year review. 

In pictures. 

The girls bought three hermit crabs in January.  Today, there are two. 

 

Then they tried roller skating...

We now have an 8 year old and a 5 year old. 

And a 3rd grader and a second-year pre-schooler. 

We met Illinois State Senator Manar and the Governor of Illinois, Pat Quinn.

Zoe got her ears pierced. 

Zoe cut the ribbon (again!) at the Midwest Charity Horse Show representing Camp COCO.

And she had a great time at her 3rd year of camp.

We went to a hockey game in Chicago. 

And to Ohio where the girls got to pal around with their cousins, Julie and Hunter, whom they had never met! 

We went to Hannibal, MO. 

And to Chicago, again. 

Zoe had doctor appointments and one more surgery. 

There were dance classes, piano lessons, carnival rides, and a trip to learn about Abraham Lincoln's life. 

Zoe and Grandma sewed. 

And we swam in our pool. 

As well as took swimming lessons at the public cement pond. 

We canoodled with our pets. 

And we canoodled with our cousins. 

We had family gatherings. 

We laughed with friends.

And Grandpa drove the girls in a parade.  

We celebrated holidays.

And said goodbye to my mom's brother, Uncle Jeff. 

We enjoyed a big snowfall in December. 

And are preparing for the spring. 

 

We have made much progress with our license plate campaign. 

We are excited to see what happens for us in 2014!