i wanna be a rockstar when i grow up

"When you were a little girl, what did you want to be when you grew up?"

This is one of my favorite questions to ask people when I first meet them. As fun and whimsical as it is as an icebreaker, it can also tell you so much about a person. Because as children, we were free to dream without someone telling us we’re being silly or illogical or unrealistic. As children we weren’t worried about the schooling involved, the required qualifications, the upfront expenses, or what the paycheck would be later on.

Heck, we weren’t even worried about being talented enough. Because, you know, it was before all those dreaded insecurities sneakily made their way into our beings.

We lived by the slogans of the US Army and Nike: Be All That You Can Be and Just Do It.

And then—usually somewhere around high school, or perhaps even middle school—someone “talks some sense” into us. And all of a sudden we no longer want to be a ferris wheel operator or a ballet dancer… we want to be a real estate broker. (Not that there’s anything wrong with being a broker… but it sure doesn’t sound as fun or as romantic as being a rodeo cowgirl, now does it?)

Just as most kids do, I had my fair share of fleeting career aspirations, which largely stemmed from watching too many movies and TV shows. I wanted to be: a nanny with superpowers (Mary Poppins), a fighter pilot (Top Gun), an astronaut (Space Camp), a BMXer (RAD), an attorney (Perry Mason), a doctor (The Cosby Show), a detective (Murder She Wrote), or a princess (you-name-it-Disney-movie).

But I also had a few longer-lasting career ambitions as a child:

The Mommy.

The appeal: Moms fix boo-boos, kiss babies, decorate the house, and choose the menu.   All things I couldn’t wait to be in charge of. (Apparently I didn’t notice the chores, the errands, the actual cooking of the menu, and the sleepless nights.)

The Rock Star.

The appeal: Rock stars are loud, bold, dramatic, wear cool clothes, star in awesome music videos, and can make large groupings of people sing along with them whenever they want to. (I’m still waiting for my lucky break into the music biz.)

The Broadway Star.

The appeal: Broadway stars sing, dance, take on other personas, wear pretty costumes, and get the boy. Oh, and they have flowers thrown at them every time they perform well. (Too bad my six-year-old self dropped out of ballet because they wouldn’t let me dance. But who could blame me? They just kept making me stand there {gasp} and called it fifth position or something. Borrr-ing.)

The Pediatrician.

The appeal: Pediatricians help mommies with their babies, give advice about caring for children, and help make kids and families feel better. (The bajillion years of necessary schooling eventually turned me off from this one.)

The President.

The appeal: The President works for justice, establishes laws, serves people for their common good, creates a better life through education and health care, forges new territory, and makes friends with other nations. (As a child I never thought about being in charge of things like the economy or war… Being President doesn’t look nearly as glamorous to me as it used to.)

So that’s my short list – the five careers I “seriously” considered between the ages of three and… thirteen.

Fast forward to fifteen years since leaving high school, and I’ve now had the opportunity to be a number of things: a preschool worker, a janitor, a bartender, a waitress, a popcorn server at the movies, a customer service rep at a bank, a tele-surveyor, a secretary, a public relations exec for a local government branch, a Bible teacher, a self employed minister, and a full-time volunteer for a non-profit.

Not one of those fit into my top five childhood career ambitions… until January.

In January I became a mom.

Maybe I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up…

Or maybe I do.

As a mom I fix boo-boos, kiss babies, decorate the house, and choose the menu. I’m sometimes loud, usually bold, often dramatic, star in all sorts of (G-rated) family home videos, and try to wear cool clothes. I definitely like to make others sing along, and I’m constantly making up songs and dancing for—and with—my baby. I take on other personas (during story time). I wear pretty costumes and I got the boy (who often throws flowers at me *blush*). I try to help other mommies with their babies. I sometimes share tips about caring for the children. And I do my best to help make kids and families feel better. I work for justice, establish laws, serve people, create a better life through education and health care, and forge new territory… in our home and in the little world we live in.

Yes. I am… a mom.

And us moms? I’m pretty sure we do it all.

We work dang hard, both at home and beyond… sometimes with lots of pay and recognition, and often with very little.

We put in long-hours. We work through our lunch breaks. We rarely get a sick day or a “mental health” day. We continue working right through our vacations. And we never, ever sign off at 5:00pm.

But we do it knowing that the future is curled up on our laps and drooling all over our clothes. We do it knowing it’s a future worth working hard for.

It’s good to be a mom.

And you?

Dear friends, as a child, what did you want to be “when you grew up”?   How can you see your childhood fantasies being worked out in your life now?  Do you recognize your dreams taking another form?  What is one thing that you need to do that you always dreamed of doing?

dreaming of my packed out stadium,


{This post was originally published as a guest post on Nirvana Mamma on September 11, 2011}

adriel booker | the mommyhood memos | 2011
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