when i grow up

So, I've been wondering . . . when do you know you've become a grown-up?

Is it when you finish college? Is it when you get married? Have kids? Start a career? If it's those items, then my score is win, fail, fail, and . . . half a win?

This past week, as a part of my new job, I signed up for my own personal health insurance. At twenty-six years old, I finally have a full-time job with benefits. Yes, big moment. But, as visiting faculty, I am not at the beginning end of a long career. My contract will be up in a year. I still need to think about what's next and my life definitely still feels (somewhat) wide open.

I remember when I was about thirteen or fourteen, we had a substitute, Bro. L., teach our Sunday School class. Bro. L. was a lawyer, and he wanted to get to know us a little by asking us what we wanted to be when we grew up. My classmates mumbled things like, "Um, I'm not sure," and "I think I want to be a nurse," or "I'm going to be a dentist." We were in middle school, and no one was very confident with their answers. When it was my turn, I said, "I want to be a mom."

Bro. L. wasn't satisfied by this and said, "Well, what else do you want to be?"

"A teacher, I guess," I replied. But I was a little offended. Was being a mom not good enough? I mean, really, if you can't say you just want to be a mom when you're sitting in a Mormon church, where can you say it?

I'm not offended by this anymore, however. I realize now, more than ten years after this incident, that not everyone graduates from college pregnant with a second child like my mom did, and so Bro. L. was perhaps right to ask what else I wanted to be.

I'm glad I became a teacher.

But, oddly, I still feel like I don't have an answer to the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" (Okay, I do have an answer, and it's still, "I want to be a mom." But, again, I hear Bro. L's voice, "Well, what else?) I figure, maybe it's okay that I'm still not completely certain because in a shaky economy, I'll probably get to move around a bit job-wise, even if I won't change careers seven times in my life.

Over the past few days, I've been mulling over the options.

1. I could head off to graduate school next fall, pursue a PhD in rhetoric and composition, and become a professor. This is a path that makes sense, and likely a path I'll end up following.

But here are my other recent ideas:

2. I could be a librarian! I would love to work at a school, or, even better,  at a city library where I could read books to kids who sit in rapt attention in a circle around me on a soft, plush carpet. (Yes, I know this isn't what librarians do all day . . . or maybe at all.) Simmons College even has an awesome program where you can pursue an MLS and a MA in children's literature at the same time. Google, however, told me that the prospects for librarians aren't much better than the prospects for academics. So, . . . on to my next career idea.

3. I could be a farmer!

Yes, I'm serious.

(When I told my sister the other day that I wanted to be a farmer, she laughed at me.)

But, I mean, really, wouldn't it be awesome to be a farmer? When I was nine and obsessed with horses like almost every other nine-year-old girl on the planet, I wanted to be a farmer badly. I sort of really wanted to marry a farmer too. (And, yes, the Little House series were my favorite books growing up--see previous post.)

I could be part of the young-hipster-sustainable-organic farming movement, and I could make delicious food from my farm, maybe open a cafe, learn how to can food, set up a booth at the farmer's market every year, sell my food as part of a co-op. I could have chickens as pets! What could be better?

Okay, maybe I'm romanticizing it a little, but, really, I kind of actually want to do this.

4. The only other option I came up with was: I could be a writer for children or young adults (again, re: I want to be Laura Ingalls Wilder). I've wanted to do this since I was young. But 1) it's hard to get published and 2) I'm too scared to let anyone else read my writing and 3) I'm not a very good writer. So I'd have to overcome a few obstacles, but hey, it's an option, right? I mean I was educated in the same English program as Stephenie Meyer, so I've got that going for me. (Ha.)

If only I weren't an idealistic English major, I might be able to come up with something that has the potential to actually make some money and have some security. Hmmm.

I could be an . . . an . . . accountant? (I keep thinking of that line from Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium, "An accountant. According to the word, it must be a cross between a counter and a mutant.").

And, then, when I start my encore career, I can be a farmer who writes kids books. Right?