Z. is in the backyard playing this morning, she has afternoon art camp this week so gets to play all morning before having to get ready to go. First she took out a big cardboard box which she had made into a time machine for her and her pink flamingo Hobbes (formerly known as Fay, but she has changed into Hobbes because Z.'s been immersed in Calvin and Hobbes cartoons all week), but she quickly abandoned that idea for a wetter one. Fully clothed, including shoes and socks, she took the hose and put it at the top of her circular slide and turned it into a water slide. She and Hobbes are soaked from head to toe and in total bliss. Seeing her so happily playing and doing something at the spur of the moment that is so free of concerns gave me a temporary lift from the doldrums I've been feeling lately. Not sure what they are all about exactly, except that I do tend to get down this time of year. I think some of it is body memory (I think the body remembers what the mind tries to forget). Memory of the anguish and elation I felt at this time 9 years ago when Z. was born prematurely and in the NICU. Then the following year my first cancer symptoms began to appear the week after her birthday. Then 2 years ago my endo cancer symptoms appeared around this time. Hmm, guess that might explain a lot of it.
Probably doesn't help that I spent the last two nights watching the documentary called A Lion in the House on PBS. It follows 5 children with a cancer diagnosis over a period of 6 years and 3 of them of them died during the filming period. The survival statistics for childhood cancer are much higher than the 40% of this sample (there's an over 75% survival rate). Obviously it was a pretty intense experience to view this film, both from a mom's perspective and a cancer survivor's perspective. I wanted to see it, I'm glad I watched it, but it's definitely left it's mark. It's hard enough to know what treatment and quality of life decisions to make for oneself, never mind trying to make those decisions for your child. And to know when to let go. Just horrendous anguish.
So, seeing Z. playing so happily in the backyard this morning, free of cares and in good health, was really uplifting for me. For right now, in this moment, all is good.
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Ramblings on being a mom, cancer survivor, artist, etc.
2 comments:
Watching our children play without rules or restrictions - just free play, spur of the moment, no matter the mess - it's so freeing to me as a parent to just let them! So what if the backyard turns to a mudhole or their clothes are soaking wet or they've done something "outside the box" (well, really, it's more about being outside MY box than theirs). Sometimes it's hard to give our children permission to do things by NOT telling them to stop, be careful, watch out, don't make a mess, etc.
(Whew - that was all about me - sorry 'bout that - I should use my own blog space to work thru my issues - LOL).
Sounds like Z. had a great day, and I'm glad you were able to enjoy just watching her fun. She has such a great imagination! Sounds like even though you didn't physically go down the slide with her, that perhaps you still got that rush from it :)
I have to admit I said one thing to her part way through. She had on her suede mocs and I just brought her out her water shoes and asked her to switch which she did happily and without skipping a beat. And you are right, it's really about MY box, not hers. She thinks outside of my box all the time :-))
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