At the age of four, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life; I knew exactly who I wanted to be; I knew where I wanted to live. Of course, I wanted to be with my "friends" all day and stay up late; I wanted to be Minnie Mouse; I wanted to live at Disneyland. More so, my "friends" consisted of Mickey, Donald, Goofy, Daisey Duck, and Shanna. However, life was simple and I never thought twice. I was going to be a famous mouse. Age six came swiftly, and the chunky clumsy girl wanted to be a Ballerina, no wait, a Princess. I settled for a Princess Ballerina, duh. I came to the conclusion that becoming Minnie Mouse was nearly impossible, seeing as she is a cartoon, a Princess Ballerina just seemed to be more realistic. Age ten, I was all about becoming a teacher or being a mom... a Teacher Mom. In middle school- bah, it was just about surviving. High school, I was going to go to art school in Italy- and there my talent would be discovered. In college, I was going to be part of the Art/Design crew at Starbucks headquarters.

At this point, I have to say- what stopped me? People telling me to be "realistic." Well, here's what I have to say about that... being realistic is BORING, PLAIN, NORMAL, REDUNDANT, MUNDANE, SLEEPY, PURGATORY, VOID, SAFE!

I could wear the Minnie Mouse Costume at Disneyland. Prince Harry is still single, I could still have a shot at becoming a princess- and I could take some dance lessons. I could get my Masters in teaching, who knows- I could teach moms. I could still be discovered in Italy- painting clothes on all the naked statues. I may even get hired to do some art for Starbucks.

I think sometimes, we need to shut off the "realistic person" in our heads. Whether they are voices from our past, or just our own doubt. Turn on the child, who thinks splashing around in the tub is just as fun as a water park. The child, who can see that a Lego is not just for building, but also makes a perfect berry in a mud pie. The child who dreams big, and believes that he or she can one day obtain it.