Warning!!: this post contains very ugly pajama pictures

There are very few rules in my parenting apprenticeship. One of them is to let the children play. I have not read much about it nor have I done a lot of research. My guts simply told me when the kids were at the edge of preferring electronics to toys: let them play. I might be completely wrong. There might be serious university studies telling that children should learn at an early age or books about the benefits of the IPAD for kids. Maybe. But I don't care. My point is that, when they grow out of play, they stop playing forever. There is no turning back. So, as long as they are young and want to play, I let them play. The clean up rule is not part of my parenting (or individual) signature. Once in a while, I pull my hair out of despair and beg the kids to clean up. Most of the time, I let them display the structures, constructions, organizations of their imaginary world for weeks, until they are ready to enter a new imaginary world. 

N playing with these beads bought more than ten years ago for the big girl

I drive my hubby crazy with all the toys at home. He does not seem to understand why I keep the beads bought in 2005. There is something more to it than the simple urge to not discard things that can still be used... in this case by our little boy. So, why the hell do I keep barbies in a box?

The answer is simple. When we moved out of our comfortable and friendly Chicago, unlike many families moving and downsizing, I decided to keep all the toys. Well, almost all of the toys. Yes, I kept the barbies. Right before moving, I had observed my big 11 years old girl cut the barbies's hair with her good friend.  They took the barbies out of the donation pile. My daughter and her neighbor friend were playing outside and hiding from whoever might see them. You see, being 11 in the big city and playing with barbies hair is something you are supposed to hide. It is embarrassing. I was chocked by their hiding game. I packed that box with me instead of donating them. I thought about the move, about the new school, the possibility that making friends might be hard. And I thought: no matter what happens in the new place, I want the kids to feel at home.

Children might be resilient but they are losing a lot in a move. They are giving up more than their friends. In a move, they lose the immediate availability of the friends, the comfort, the security, all the landmarks that created them. In the new place, how can they know who to turn to if they are late to be picked up, they don't know how the new school will be, how the new gymnastics school will be, how the new martial arts place will be. They don't know which neighbors can be trusted. They don't know the time it takes to get somewhere. They don't know the expectations, the behaviors, the playdates rules. No matter how lost they would be, I needed to ensure they would have two strong landmarks: the family and the endless possibilities of play.

Barbies were not a good keeper. They were used once to learn how to braid hair. But all the other toys have been played with more than the recommended age group and they all have been cherished before and after the move.

Today, the little boy is sick. He is not, really. He had a fever at school and as per the rule of all American schools: you keep your kids at home for at least 24 hours after the fever broke. (there is no wonder why many American's moms cannot go to work full time, but that's another story). I follow the rule, so happy to enjoy a day with my son. The closest family member is about a 16 hours drive away, the closest dear friend who is almost family lives about the same distance. I am a stay at home, trying to work from home mom also for that reason. So, we enjoy a nice time together. Clearly the boy is not sick. And clearly, he is thrilled to have 8 hours of uninterrupted playtime. 

Little Mister N. often asks me to watch the IPAD. A few days ago, he came back from school and told me that two kids in his class had their own device. Seriously? I don't want to believe him, although I know it might be true. This morning, when he knew he was going to stay home all day long, he asked to watch my Ipad. I suggested we would first play a little bit. The little bit lasted eight hours. Eight uninterrupted hours of playtime. He created Santa trains transporting girafes, he built complex crane structures to dig out the gold from the dwarf mines, Superman saved people being trapped by mean pink and orange pigs (no comments here), he made necklaces and he 'helped' me to make a puzzle. 

"You see Mom", he says: "you have to try to put it all by yourself. You cannot ask me to do it. Otherwise, you will never learn".

As a mom, I achieved very few things I am proud of. Allowing my kids to play and develop their imagination as much as possible is one of them.