When I grew up, I wanted to be...

I wanted to be a teacher.
I had three kids. I taught them.

I wanted to be a librarian.
I collect books, and occasionally loan them out. I also helped designed and implimented a book club for kids at my church called, "Club Odyssey".

I wanted to be a philosopher.
I've plumbed the depths ('why can't i?' - 'because i said so!')

I wanted to be a counselor.
I frequented a great one, and learned a lot.

I wanted to be an artist.
I made 'birthday posters' for my family.

I wanted to be a writer.
I blog. I email my friends.

I wanted to be a song writer.
I wrote 'You are the reason I scream, you can make a nice mother feel mean. I had no wrongs, til you came along, and now you're the reason, I scream!' I had to borrow extensively from Christine Wyrtzen's 'You Are the Reason I Sing".

I wanted to be a singer.
I woke people up singing 'Good morning, good morning, good morning! It's time to rise and shine!'

I wanted to be a pianist.
Actually, I didn't. My mom wanted that. But, I am. And my mom is happy about it.

I wanted to be a decorator.
I've come a long way from a 'Hollie Hobby' poster hanging over my twin bookshelf bed. Presently I'm thinking up ways to use the 8 table leaves I have stored around here.

I wanted to be a nurse.
I was given plenty of opportunity to change my mind about that one. Plenty.