"And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed! (98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.) Kid, you'll move mountains!" - Dr. Seuss.
Sometimes I still feel slightly lost in my own skin (and not just in the literal sense of stretchy skin left over post labour). I could never find a career that called to me, not at least something I loved and wanted to spend the rest of my life working on. All I ever really wanted was to be a mother and, by a complete miracle,...now I am. However now that my dream is a real life little doll I still sometimes find myself wishing for more...and rolling in guilt for that revelation. Shouldn't I be satisfied with a dream come true?
Lately I've realized I AM content being the mom of my cutie...and that wanting more ways to spend my days does not negate that, instead it adds. But how does a mom go about making that "something more" happen? One of the things I find myself wanting is to belong to world of all these experienced bloggers. This past weekend many blogging moms went off to BlogHer to bond. They are winning awards, writing brilliant blogs, publishing articles, and even getting paid. What I wouldn't do to belong in this blogosphere. Alas, I am a virtual baby on the blog globe, barely even able to navigate my way around. Where they are seems worlds away.
Here are some of my deeper dreams....hopes that I can't really see happening:
Becoming a recognized, paid, better blogger
Becoming a published writer (for more than commercials and poetry (which I've done). I want to write childrens books and maybe even something on motherhood)
Accomplishing something in the arts
Being paid to teach theater
These are dreams I don't allow to much daylight since I can't concieve how they'll ever amount to much more than that. However, recently my daughter challenged me in my fear of failure.
I was changing Little Lady's diaper (how many revelations come when you're up to your elbows in poop?) She was laying on the change table singing to herself when she reached up and touched the stars. Literally. We have a star mobile over her change table for her to stare at and hopefully keep her hands out of our way. 11 months ago that mobile seemed miles away from those tiny fingers. Now without even a stretch she snatched up a star and tugged the whole thing down in delight.
Besides making it obvious that it was time to move the mobile, she showed me that sometimes it just takes a little time to touch the stars.