Dreams

1 Oct

A few weeks ago my eldest son asked me what my ‘lifelong dream’ was.  He asked on a day that I had gone on yet another job interview that yielded nothing and I was down in the DUMPS. I was weepy and depressed and I answered ‘I don’t know’ which was one of those answers you give when you want your child to stop asking you questions so you can get on with the busy task of feeling sorry for yourself.

My children, because at this time the youngest was involved too, were appalled that I didn’t know what my lifelong dream was, and they should have been.  Here I was always telling them that they could do whatever they wanted to do if they just worked hard enough, and I didn’t even have one stinking dream.

Of COURSE I had a lifelong dream.  For as long as I can remember I wanted to be a writer.  I wanted to write for Saturday Night Live and live in New York and hang out with super funny (though now I know probably very depressed and drug-addled) people. THAT was my dream.  As a 41 year old mom, THAT particular dream is probably not possible, no matter how hard I work for it.

My altered dream that fits my current life is to write and make money writing.  This doesn’t mean I will quit my day job and sew leather patches to the elbows of all my jackets (though that would be SUPER cool) or that I start smoking a pipe. Presently, it means writing an article for a local parenting magazine and hoping they buy it and use it. It also means researching different dog houses and submitting that article to an e-commerce site and hoping they use it.  Glamorous?  Umm, no. Not at all. But, the first time I sell something I have written I will feel like a tiny piece of my dream is becoming a reality.

I told my eldest a few days after the original question that I DID have a dream, and I told him what it was.  His answer was ‘well do it mom. It’s not like you’re dead’.  That kid makes me so proud. I hope when he sees his mom not giving up on her dream I make him and his brother proud too.

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