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When she was two years old, she wanted to be a mermaid when she grew up. When she was three, she wanted to be a waitress. When she was four, she wanted to be a rock star. Now, at age five,  when she grows up she wants to be all of those things plus a chef and an actress and a teacher and a mother. At the end of the day, even though it’s not up to me, I just want her to be happy.

I want her to chase the dreams and follow the paths that lead to her joy.  I want her to become the best her she can possibly be and I want her to know I’ll support whatever she ultimately decides that is, but I'm crossing my fingers happiness is the result. I want her to always find a reason to celebrate the day and I want her to make sure that she truly lives instead of settling to exist.

She mentioned recently she wants to move to a bigger city, to New York, to somewhere that requires you to stay on your toes and keep busy. A place where boredom is a stranger and everyone has a fist full of aspirations like a bundle of balloons they carry around hoping and praying one of them will be the one to lift them off the ground. Sometimes I see so much of myself in her.

Regardless of where she lands once she spreads her wings, I just hope she enjoys the flight. I hope she finds her way through the inevitable ups and downs and I hope she shares that bright, contagious smile of hers with the world. I hope she never loses the courage to explore or the bravery to speak her mind or the heart to empathize. She’s going places - I’m sure of it because she’s sure of it. Watch and see.

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