I really enjoy Tuesdays and Thursdays. The only bad thing about them is that I know I have 8:00am classes the next day.
I am sitting here (actually laying stomach down on the floor, to be exact) eating homemade toasted whole wheat bread with homemade strawberry jam before I type something for school. And I did not make the bread (stepmom) OR the jam (old roomie). I'm not holding out fantastic recipes on anyone. I should start working.
However, I can't get my dream out of my head.
My entire life, I have wanted to be a stay at home mom. I knew this at a very young age. The first time I remember dwelling on my future was probably in 3rd grade when my mom, brother and I lived in our apartment in Laguna Niguel, CA. There was no doubt. I was going to be a mom one day, and that's all I really wanted to do. Sure, I had the random, "I want to be a rock star!" or "I want to be an actress!" phases every once in a while, but I always wanted to be a mom, too. It was the only consistant job desire. While growing up, I knew that I would have to have a career eventually, because I would have to go to college. I decided that I wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. But this was only because I knew I had to have a job.
Now, I don't know why, but I hardly ever remember my dreams. I don't really have a problem with that, either. However, I seem to remember my dream every time it has something to do with marriage and/or babies. Before I dated Patrick, I had several dreams saying that I knew I was supposed to marry him. I remember two very distinctly. One of them was a dream about us having a baby together after we were married. We were sitting in the den of his parent's house with his family and my family, and I had a beautiful chubby baby with red hair in my arms. The dream flashed forward to a few years later, where in the backyard, Patrick was playing with a little 2-3 year old girl. She had a full head of red, bouncy curls - just like her daddy.
These were all fine, because I knew I wasn't even close to that time period in my life. We started dating when I was 18, afterall. But now that we are married, that dream could so very easily become reality.
And it scares the crap out of me.
In my dream last night, I was alone and I guess I didn't know that I was pregnant, because out of nowhere I started going into minor labor and POP! out came a baby girl. Uhhh say what?! I didn't know? Seriously? The "labor" was so easy that it is obvious it was a dream, but still. The baby girl didn't have red hair that I remember, but she was stinking cute. I had to send picture messages to all of my friends and family to tell them that I just had a baby. Talk about strange. When I woke up, I actually remembered my dream for the most part.
I still want to be a housewife and mother more than any career out there. No doubt about it. However, I know that it can't happen right now, and I don't have any desire for it to (okay, maybe if I am being honest, there is a teeeeeeny desire, but I shouldn't). We are so poor that it's not even funny. Raising children costs a lot of money - I know this. I don't want to live in an apartment and raise our kids with nothing to eat, sending them to a babysitter because both of us have to work full time to make ends meet. That was the biggest part of my childhood that I remember (without the dad in the picture), and my children deserve better.
And I want so desperately to feel like I have accomplished something in my life before starting a family, aka getting my degree in Elementary Education. I know I don't want a job, but I want to be able to say to my children that I finished college. That I was smart enough and dedicated enough to go back for the 3rd time and pay for it on my own.
I have no idea why I am babbling on and on about this. Maybe I just need to get it out of my head.
My sweet and silly kitty will be enough of a baby for right now.