It has been one of those weeks where it seems that all of my friends are having babies. And it has caused a little jealousy monster to rear its head. Not that my baby isn’t gorgeous (pictured – although now 8 she thinks she is all grown up) or that I really want another. But it is that strange case of wanting what others have, just because they have it.
When I was younger (and married) I wanted a whole tribe of children but things did not work out that way. And now that it is just the two of us I’m quite happy with the life we have and it would have been a lot different if it were me and four kids…
Sometimes I look at family units and wonder what it would be like. Just as I look at those beautiful novels in the bookshop window and wonder what it would be like if it were my book there, my name in large letters for all to see, someone saying, “Oh, the next Makalani is out, I must read that!”
I would like to think that I am older and wiser now. I know that wishing alone will not bring me what I want. My books aren’t in the shop windows and my handsome prince has not ridden up to support me through my writing life by ferrying the kids around in the minibus and doing all the cooking.
Sometimes we need to dream a little. If we didn’t where would the stories come from? Where would the goals come from? But dreaming is not enough to get us there.
So instead of allowing my dreams to get me down, I use them.
To write the family life I think I might have wanted. Write as the author I want to be and continue to do that until I can see my name on the cover of a novel, or two, or series…
My actions are dream powered, are yours?