Spring time wonderings, childhood questions

We say some interesting things to little kids. Sometimes I think about the repercussions. We gush over little girls who are dressed up, proclaiming them beautiful only when they are looking most made up. We ask children what their drawing is supposed to be, instead of letting it be simply an exploration of how to hold the pencil and using different colors. And we ask them "what do you want to be when you grow up?"

I'm not sure how I feel about the last question. It certainly helps to clarify the child's interests and help him/her imagine how they could pursue them all the time. But to me, it also made it sound like growing up was a destination. "What do you want to do after you cross that line that is college and find your destiny!!?"

Welp. I got to college, got that diploma, and here I am. Me and a lot of my peers. Wondering what exactly happened - or didn't happen - and if I'm in the right place. But let's go back to little Ellen for a moment. What did she say when people asked her that ever present question, "So, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

You know what I said? Two or three things. This is how it went:
Little me:"I don't know!"
Adult: "Oh really??"
Little me: "Yeah, I mean probably a mom, but I don't really know."
Adult: "Like a stay at home mom?"
Little me: "Yeah. I think that'd be cool."
Adult: (Varying responses, usually affirmative and letting me know I could be a mom AND have a career. If I wanted.)
Little me: "I guess maybe I could be a teacher. Maybe. But I really don't know. Or I want to be a mom"

When I think back about this experience, so many things strike me. The fact that my mom was an awesome stay-at-home mom. How I thought her job was awesome because she could pack our lunches and write sweet notes, pick us up from school with a cooler that had two popscicles in it for after school snacks, bring us snack trays when we were playing, help out with our school and sit with us when math was just too hard. (long division is TRICKY!) How I still think my mom is awesome and everyone should be blessed enough to receive one of her care packages. That to me, being a teacher was sort of like second class interactions with kiddos, but I thought maybe I could settle for it if I had to.

I think there is some value in going back and remembering your own answer to this question: What did you want to be when you "grew up"? That little person is still inside you somewhere. Did you become that thing? I'm super interested in your answers, so whether you comment or start a conversation with me, I'd love to know.

Now. Obviously I am not a mama. And that is OKAY. (Don't freak out y'all.) Where does that leave me, though? What the heck am I supposed to be doing right now if it isn't that and if teaching has been feeling a little murky lately?

What the heck am I supposed to be doing? THIS. This is what I'm supposed to be doing. Living with my roomie. Dating my boyfriend. Hanging out with my friends. Doing yoga. Cooking lentil soup. Learning to not rush through or into anything and to be satisfied with less. Practicing being content in a less than perfect world and opening myself up to others in love.

I don't always feel that way. In fact, most days recently, it seems like I am swimming in anxiety over what I'm doing or not doing with my life. Why is X not happening now? Why can't I just Y? Why does money suck? Maybe a better question for little kids (and big "grown up" ones) is "How do you want to be when you're older?" I want to be peaceful, spacious, and joyful. I want to be connected with God, others, nature. I don't want to swim in anxiety over what I'm "supposed to be doing" when what I am doing now is okay. My discontent about certain things is worth listening to, but I will no longer allow it to steer the course of my emotions in a day.

And you know what? If I asked a little kid how they wanted to be when they were older, I think it might lead to some great conversation about how good and beautiful and wonderful and special they are right now. Don't stress about the future, baby. The present is good.