I’m only 31, still a baby right? And that’s a good thing, because I still have so many plans for when I grow up. I sit here on the couch nursing my youngest child and I wonder… What do I want to be when I grow up?
As I child when people asked, I just answered that I wanted to be happy when I grew up. Oh, and I wanted to be a mommy. That was it. A happy mommy. And now I am. A happy mommy that is, not a grown-up. (I’m not am I? Because that, that would be sad, and remember, we said that I was happy.)
So, having fulfilled my childhood dreams at the ripe old age of 31, I find myself needing a brand new plan. So, what do I want to do when I grow up?
The easy cop-out is to say that now that I’ve reached my goal I’m going to sit back and watch my children reach theirs. But, did I mention I’m only 31? That’s an awful long time to be sitting around watching others play. No, I need a new plan. A plan that’s all about me and what I want. So what do I want? What will make sure that I stay happy? Well, that’s actually easy.
I want to write.
OK. Wait. If the question is about the future, I guess the answer should be in the future tense too. So; in the future, I want to write.
Vague? Yes. For sure. But I don’t know what I want to write, or where, or even how for that matter. I just want to write.
I have visions of novels and book tours and fame. I have visions of smart well written articles published in national magazines. I have visions of children’s books read lovingly to rapt faces all snug in their pajamas ready for bed.
I don’t know which vision, if any, will be mine to live. I don’t think it really matters as long as I grow up to do something which involves my passion; the word. (Oh how corny that sounds… but it’s sadly true.)
It’s not much of a life plan, but isn’t it better than just watching my children grow up and be happy?
This post was inspired by a writing prompt at The Other Mother, a great site for moms who want to write.