The Adventures Beyond The Looking Glass

Some may say that it would seem my child is spoiled, that as a parent I have overindulged in the world that as a parent I have created for her.  I am not the least bit surprised, nor fault anyone for feeling so.  I am well aware of that belief and the influence it may have on her childhood, but there are other factors that have impacted the reason it may appear that I give Emery all that I can, and then further go above and beyond.

Here is my daughter in her new Radio Flyer wagon, dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz; a look that she insisted upon donning this particular morning, even requesting herself that I put bows on her braids.  Everyday seems like Halloween around my home, as Emery adores dressing up as characters she has grown to idolize.  There has been a frustrating amount of laundering this attire, but that's okay by me.  Her wagon has somewhat become a piece of furniture in my home, as I'm hesitant to take it outdoors, as that will require quite a bit of cleaning up when it's time to be stored inside.  I may seem like a ridiculous parent, as portrayed in this photograph; one in which resembles a peak into Emery's world.  What isn't pictured is what you cannot see, what has driven me as a parent to be so enthusiastic and proactive about spoiling Emery through endless dress-up clothes and afternoons spent inside a Radio Flyer that I'm afraid of taking outdoors.  While she is doing fantastically well, aside from her joyous expression pictured, the reality is that Emery was born with Cystic Fibrosis.  

I'm ashamed to admit that there are days that we have the luxury of forgetting her diagnosis.  She has been incredibly healthy, and her doctors have remained positive that she appears to remain so; at least, for now.  But even with all the toys in the world, all the activities and adventures and love a child could ever possibly need or want, it is difficult to shake the reality that statistics give people like her a life expectancy of 39.  That is a hollowing fact that I, no matter what, have been unable to shake from my thoughts and worries.

I'm not Mom of the Year nor do I aspire to attain such notoriety, and I certainly am not seeking apologetic words from anyone.  In fact, I rarely mention Emery's condition because I do not want it to define and shape her life, or for people to see her differently.  This is how I want Emery to be seen; for the magical, whimsical, and imaginative world in which she thrives, and how beyond grateful I am as her parent to be a part in it.  I will not let her existence be influenced by current statistics, at least for as long as I am able to.  

One of my favorite stories of all time is Alice in Wonderland, and I frequently think of one quote that resonates with my feelings as a parent, and especially as Emery's mother: 

 "The greatest gift you could give her is a lifetime of adventures."   

Dorothy dresses, red wagons, and little blue bows in all, I'm never bothered by the opinions of spoiling her.  No matter what, what I hope others see is how relentlessly I will seek in giving her all the adventures to fulfill a lifetime.