The lovely, witty, talented and skilled baby-namer Tonya challenged me to Reveal My Dream. I've been thinking pretty hard about it for two days now, and, although I reserve the right to come back and add a Rolex and these shoes:
I'll start more broadly.
The biggest block between me and living my best life is worry. If I could stop worrying long enough to actually enjoy what I have, I would truly be living my dream. I don't need a million dollars or the apartment in Paris. I want all the things I already have. I just want to stop worrying about them.
I dream of a time when I can stop worrying that there will never be enough money. Not extra. Not so much that we need to start worrying about where to keep it all. Just enough that going out to dinner once a week stops being a pipe dream. Enough that I can pay all the bills at once. Enough that we can start to imagine a time when we're out of debt.
I dream of a time when I feel confident about how we're raising Dash. I want to know that he's getting the right education. That he's eating enough leafy greens. That he feels safe and loved every minute of every day. I want to know that the way I respond to him when he's being a pain in the ass is as right as how I respond to him when he's being angelic. I want to stop worrying that we're wasting his potential.
I dream of a time when I can walk past a smudge on the floor or a spot of dust on the dresser and not have to go back to clean it up. I am so terrified of the housework getting away from me that I can't stop cleaning. I was warned during my pregnancy that if I didn't instill a sense of order right away, chaos would reign forever. And I believed it. Too much. So much that it keeps me awake some nights.
So that's my dream. To live my same life, but with less worry. Now that I've confessed, said my dream out loud, maybe the universe and I can start taking baby steps to help me get there.