“I have a dream” … such simple words that are rarely voiced out loud anymore. I wonder if dreaming is a dying art form in a world filled with instant gratification. Does anyone truly dream anymore? Or am I the only one? I have no fear of sharing my dream with the world, I’d shout it from the Sears tower if I thought anyone cared. It’s been the same for quite a while now.
I dream of a house – cottage like in its charm – in an almost rural town. In this town I know my neighbors, I’m on the PTA, and I volunteer often at my children’s school. In my cottage home there is a sense of organized chaos and a feeling of love. In my yellow kitchen I stand after a day of work, cooking dinner while my son and daughter play in the large back yard. The sounds of laughter and dogs barking gleefully drift in the window to blend with the happy smell of supper. Behind me a pair of arms slip around my waist and a gentle kiss is planted on my neck from the man who holds the other half of my soul. Dinner is a time where the whole family gathers around the table and discusses their day, where my son is admonished for sharing scraps with the dogs and my daughter giggles gleefully over the adoring attention from her daddy.
I’ve had this dream called “boring”, ‘cliché”, “unimaginative”, and, my personal favorite “an affront to women’s rights”. But it’s still the same dream and I honestly couldn’t care less what others think of it.
My dream focuses around family, always has. It doesn’t matter my career, or his career, or our combined annual gross income. What matters is that home and family are the haven within which true happiness lies.
I want my children to have the childhood I had. One where they could play safely around the neighborhood until the street lights came on. Where you knew your neighbors and if your kids misbehaved it was relayed to you before your kids even made it back to the front door. Where the teachers in the schools know and care about each student individually. Where recreation time doesn’t consist of sitting down in front of the TV, Wii, or computer for hours on end! I want a community that’s close to the water (river, creek, ocean, lake, whatever!) so I can teach my kids to fish and row a boat.
Most of all I want my kids to be kids. Exercise should still be play for them (and me!) instead of work. They should be able to explore and get dirty without me worrying about something horrifying happening to them. They should be able to test (and, subsequently, learn) their boundaries so that they can become smart, respectful, and well-rounded adults someday. They should be allowed to challenge authority in a safe environment, because they’re going to do it regardless.
This is my dream. A safe, secure, loving home where I can let my kids enjoy being kids. A home where they can spend their entire lives, where I can retire and finish out my years on this planet…
… and it should always smell like fresh baked bread.