So this is it...

When I was in 5th grade I won a writing contest sponsored by McDonald's called "When I Grow Up." We were to write an essay discussing what we would like to be when we grew up, and list the subjects in school that would help us get to that point. I went home the night that my teacher announced the contest, holding the flyer with Ronald McDonald on it, excited to write my amazing essay.

Why was I so excited?

Well that summer Jurasic Park came out, and after seeing it on the big screen I knew exactly what I wanted to be, a Paleontologist. What 5th grader understands that occupation, let alone can say it, is beyond me, but it is what I decided to do and I wanted to write to the people at McDonald's and tell them all about it.

I sat down at our kitchen table armed with a note pad and plenty of sharp pencils. I went through several rough drafts before I was satisfied and knew I held the award winning essay. My dad read it over, gave me suggestions, and we sat at our ancient computer (well now it seems ancient, then it was pretty cool we even owned one) and typed out the greatest work ever written by a 5th grader.

I submitted my work the next day at school. I even had it in a pink folder and included a title page, complete with dinosaur stickers. I wanted to win, and I wasn't below trying to out "cute" everyone else.

I am not sure how much time went by until we found out the winner, but on that fateful day, while I sat in math class doing long division or something, Ronald McDonald himself waltzed into my 5th grade classroom. I couldn't believe he had time in his busy schedule to visit my school, let alone come to my classroom. This was big.

We all sat in anticipation as we waited to hear what he had to say. "Boys and girl, I am here to award a special little girl with the award for the best 'When I Grow Up' essay." We were on the edges of our seats. Who was it??

Then.... he announced my name!

I felt like Sally Field when she went up to receive that Oscar... "YOU LOVE ME!" I wanted to shout!

I got a plaque, McDonald's gift certificates, and my photo in the local paper with Ronald. I was on top of the world.

I kept this up for a few years, loving science and wanting to dig for dinosaur bones for a living. When that appeared to be out of reach, and my hatred for math really shone through each report card, I needed to rethink this career path. In 8th grade I had a really amazing English teacher and she made me see that my strengths weren't in digging through the dirt, but in writing. From that point on, I wanted to be a writer.

I even went to college for this. I studied English and Art History and minored in Writing. I was going to write and no one would stop me, I mean heck, I had Ronald on my side!

And then I graduated.

Everyone jokes about it while in college, but the fact that my English courses were always so full, I never believed it, but English is such a joke of a major. Aside from being a teacher or actually being able to work for the Times, you're screwed. I was one of the few who thought I could live in a log cabin somewhere and just write. And people would love my books. I'd be a loner who frequented coffee shops and everyone would be like, "oh Erika sits on that couch in the back. She wrote her first New York Times best seller there." Sadly... none of this ever happened. Sure I frequent the drive-thru at Dunkin Donuts daily, but I'm sure they only know me as "iced caramel latte lady" and not the hip, cool writer who is between novels.

I was leaving work the other day when all of this came rushing back to me. I am so defined by being a mommy, it has consumed my life for the past 2 years, that I completely forgot about all of this other stuff. My job is being a mom, and working retail is what I do because I enjoy it, it pays some bills, and it works around my husband's schedule.

I wonder if I would have won if I wrote about that?

Remembering What Its Like To Be A Kid

Sometimes I have to step back and remember what its like to be a kid. I get so lost in my own life, and problems, and responsibilities, that I forget what its like to be young, carefree, and with a great imagination. Kirsten will never gets these years back, she will only be this age once, and I want her to enjoy every second. I enjoyed every second of my childhood, and I hope she looks back on it as fondly as I do on mine.

One of my dad's favorite stories to tell about me (I was about 4 at the time) is the time he took me to Hills. It was a local department store that I loved to visit. The minute you walked in, it was a wonderland for children. Right in the doorway were counters that had a huge popcorn maker, hot dogs, cotton candy, and all of the treats you could possibly want as a kid. I loved the smell, and remember it well.

On that particular day my dad let me have a bag of popcorn. I walked into the big store with my popcorn in both hands and took in the scene. The place was huge. My dad leaned down and said to me, "You can pick anything. Anything you want in the whole store, and I'll buy it for you." My eyes got huge! This was a child's dream! Not only did he get me popcorn, but anything I want??? I was in heaven.

I slowly walked down every aisle and took it all in. Anything. I could have a bike... Barbie dream house... anything my little heart desired. We walked around for about an hour. My dad was so patient with me and let me enjoy my moment.

Eventually I decided what I wanted. Not a bike. Not a new playhouse. I chose a Barbie bath tub. It had a shower, little shower curtain, jacuzzi tub, and bubble bath for Barbie. It was perfect.

My dad looked a little perplexed. He asked, "Is this really what you want? A toy bath tub? You can get anything!" I simply nodded my head and walked happily to the register with my new purchase.

I played with that Barbie bath tub until I grew out of my Barbie phase. It was one of my favorite toys. I think I loved it so much because it meant something. Out of everything in that store, I wanted that. And I got to spend a great afternoon with dad, eating popcorn, and walking around a department store.

We laugh about it now. But I like to think the reason I didn't choose something big or expensive was because I knew I didn't need it. I knew I just wanted something simple.

I remind myself of this story when I find myself getting lost in my own adult world, and I need to come back to life and remember what it's like to eat popcorn and just enjoy the afternoon. I hope I can give this spirit to Kirsten, and she picks out her own Barbie bath tub on a shopping trip.