Never?

When I was a kid I wanted to be a doctor. I don't remember any specific reason why, other than it seemed the only choices in life were to be a doctor or a lawyer, and doctors made more money and had more prestige (few people ever say in joyous surprise, "Oh, you're a lawyer?" unless that's followed by a request for free legal services). Then I realized that the sight of blood made my stomach turn. And, since I believed that the only type of doctor worth being was a surgeon, I decided I could no longer be a doctor.

When I was an older kid, I wanted to be a lawyer. After all, the only two choices in life were to be a doctor or a lawyer, and I had already ruled out doctor. Besides, my dad is a lawyer, and other than working really long hours it seemed to be a good job. He told funny stories about the crazy things people sued for, and their audacity in thinking that a jury would actually award them money. The other lawyers in the firm seemed like good people, so I figured this could be a good job. Then, when I was 15, I worked in my dad's law firm one summer, and I realized that being a lawyer wasn't all dramatic court scenes and the glory of saving your client tons of money--it was a lot of paperwork, writing boring letters, and dealing with bottom-of-the-barrel loser lawyers who barely graduated correspondence law school, failed the Bar Exam countless times, and now were taking frivolous cases to court since that's how they made their money. And, I decided that law wasn't for me.

When I was a teenager, I wanted to be a psychologist. And not just any psychologist, but one who helped rape victims recover from their traumatic experiences. I researched it, and knew that I had to be a Ph.D, and that was fine with me. I also knew that I could make a good living with this career path, but really the appeal was in helping someone overcome what would hopefully be the worst thing that would ever happen to them, and return to a normal state of being. I had it all planned: I would take AP classes and college courses while in high school, graduate from BYU with my Bachelor's degree, go on an LDS mission, finish my Ph.D, get married at 30, and have a glorious career. Maybe kids would be in the mix, but not until I had at least practiced a few years to build up a clientele that would allow me to work from home.

When I was 19 (a week before my 20th birthday) I met the man who would soon become my husband. As things progressed, I realized my life plan was splitting. I could either take Path A that I had planned in high school, or Path B--get married to a pilot who would take me to live who knows where. So, I took the safe course--Path C. Path C meant start with a Master's program. If Path B turns out to be a dead end, I could skip the Master's program, go on a mission, and resume Path A. If Path B worked out, I could do the Master's degree, and finish the Ph.D. wherever hubby's job sent us, and then pick up Path A with the career.

Path B ended up not going where I wanted it to go. I had assumed the job would start sooner than it did and that we would have time to travel a bit before the kids came. Instead, I finished my Master's degree, started working in a completely unrelated field, and we started our family. We bought a condo that we now can't seem to sell, we're living in a state that my husband promised me while dating that we would not live in, and I so desperately want the dream house that it seems everyone our age is getting.

Yes, life did not work out in just about any way I had planned. On the bright side, I have a wonderful husband 10 years earlier than expected, two wonderful (most days) boys that make me laugh on a regular basis, a condo we can afford that's not ghetto (that could definitely be worse!!!), and wonderful neighbors. I finally get to be a stay at home mom to my boys. But, sometimes I spend too much time on Pinterest or Facebook and see what I still wish I could have: the nice, attractively decorated house with a basement for my food storage and a back yard for my boys; pictures of the thousands of places I want to visit; and so on. Today is a day that requires a lot of extra effort to not covet what I don't have (and, in some cases, never will), but instead be grateful for what I do. After all, I thought I knew what I wanted 10, 15, and 20 years ago, but look how wrong I was...