Evolution of a Dream

My dad says all the time that he wants to move to the beach. He's been saying this for the 22 years I've known him. He's said this since the first day my moms started dating him. He said it before my little sister was born and every day since. He has no plan on what to do when he gets there, he just wants to live by the beach. He's moved from Texas to Kansas city and back twice, but has moved no further towards the coast. I've never understood why.

When I was five, I wanted to be a dancer. Then I saw what dancers should look like, and what they eat, and decided that I wanted to be part of the Canadian Royal Mounted Police. Mounties get to ride horses all day, saving people from terrible danger, avid the wonderful and wild vistas of Canada. Sounds peachy, right? Sure, throw in a Nora Roberts type romance, and bingo! Exciting future awaits.

Somewhere between 5 years old and  my 21st birthday when I met a guy, my resolve to move north waned a little.  He was cute, and horribly smart and I gave him my number before he asked. I realized that it was my new dream to marry him. Two years later, we were married and began fending off questions from his family about when we would start having kids. I was finishing college before I realized that I probably needed to get an adult type job. In America, there are very few mounted police. This was a harsh fact for me to accept. The fact that most of our local police are less than well educated was an even harsher fact for me to digest after I became a county sheriff.

Achieving part of a childhood dream is an interesting thing. By the time the county commissioner was swearing me in, I realized that my heart wasn't really in this type of law enforcement.  My new dream was to have a baby. I spent two years at the SO before I had my first son and became a stay at home mom.

Holding that sweet little boy in my arms, all I wanted to be was the best mom ever. Which was a great dream to have since his little sister, and brother came less than four years later.  While I was raising my kids, and building two businesses, I started to dream of the perfect home.

We had bought our house with the idea that we would ad onto it some time in the future. We were always in the middle of having a baby, or short on funds. I talked my husband into taking the leap. I had a 5 year timeline planned out to finish the remodel, but 18 months later, we are almost finished. Seems amazing what you can do when you put your mind to it.

So here I am, at 32 years old and I don't have a dream. Or maybe you could say that all my dreams have come true. I don't feel like a Disney princess, especially knee deep in dirty laundry, dirty diapers and dirty dishes. But we are happy, really happy.  And now I do realize what's kept my dad from moving to the beach. My sister and I are in Missouri. Suddenly Canada doesn't look so peachy after all.