Dreams, unfinished.

Crazy Hip Blog Mamas has a collaboration about childhood dreams going on today. I just happened upon it, but since I've been thinking about this lately anyway, I thought I'd join in.

I was a serious daydreamer as a child. While other kids were out on their bikes exploring the neighborhood, I was usually lounging on my bed envisioning the future, writing down name ideas for my future children, designing the interiors of my dream home, or chatting with my friend Andie about all the details of our imaginary adult lives.

I knew wanted to get married and have children from the very beginning. Oh, sure, I also dreamed of being a rock star, of living on my own in New York or Paris for awhile, of being a magazine publisher or successful novelist, of being filthy rich and terribly famous. But mostly I just wanted a house with a garden, four to six kids, and a husband who could pay for a housekeeper so I'd have time to write.

When I was 12, I would spend hours in my room looking through home magazines for facades I liked, then coming up with interior layouts that would fit my imaginary family's lifestyle. Seven bedrooms minimum. A library for all my books, a music room for my baby grand piano, a master suite with my desk by a window overlooking the rose garden. The children would be able to wander into the woods behind the house, creating their own dreams -- since for some reason I don't remember envisioning many toys in the house, or even a swingset in the backyard for all those kids.

Isn't it funny? I now have a house (though it doesn't have a libary, music room or seven bedrooms!). I have three out of four to six kids. I have a huge backyard that still needs a ton of work -- but the potential is there. And, as of two months ago, I even have someone come to clean my house every two weeks -- plus a husband who thinks I deserve it!

I guess it's time to start writing. Or... have another baby? Except that my nerves aren't quite as stable in the face of child-created chaos and noise as I'd imagined. Three seems to be enough for now.

Oh, and the husband says another baby completely out of the question. I guess his vote should count.

Somehow the work of carving out the time and energy to write is a lot harder in real life. I have a million excuses. One of them has been pleading with me to GET OFF the computer and log him onto Webkinz for the last 10 minutes. I guess it's time to post. Forgive me for not proofreading.