A doctor, an artist, a teacher

Recently, in a quiet early morning moment with Riley, I decided to get an update on the all important childhood question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" She said, "I don't know, I think a doctor, an artist and a teacher." This was a slight departure from her previous standard answer of a "firefighter, a clown and a mommy." The doctor part was entirely new to me.

When I was about Riley's age, my standard answer to the question was "a bang bang army man." I expressed it this way, in my 6-year old English to delineate from the kind of Army person my parents were. Of course for anyone who knows me now, the idea that I would be a military man is ridiculous and quite humorous as (unlike Tim), I have never in my life fired a gun.

Riley's answer got me thinking, though. Surely at some point in my own childhood, I aspired to be an artist, at least a writer of some sort. I also figured out somewhere along the way that I had gifts and a passion for teaching. The doctor thing was never so much me, particularly given my reaction to the severe bleeding first aid movies shown in middle school health classes. Right now in what I am doing, I'm finding very little of the artist or the teacher. I see it in the future when the center opens and is a living breathing 15-hour a day thing, but right now, it's an idea that keeps me in an office far from the site where it will be built. I guess, given my meeting schedule (meetings are where imagination and creativity go to die), I'm getting a little claustrophobic given the lack of creative outlet it provides and the dirth of teaching opportunities coming my way while I do what I can to get it built.

Perhaps, this is why I'm turning back to blogging, just to have some creative outlet. John tells me he's writing. Phil's always creating something even when he's resting. My dad gets a new column every two weeks. I guess I'm just jonesing for creativity and teaching a bit. See where it takes me.