What do I want from Life?

When my husband and I drove the two and a half hours to Saskatoon, so that he could start school and we would spend the bulk of eight weeks apart, we talked a lot.

He asked if this is what I want to do. Is this, right now, what I want to be doing forever? The answer is no. We've talked about this. I want to work a job that I enjoy at least until his apprenticeship is done, and then I want to start trying to have kids. I want to take maternity leave from whatever job I'm working, and I want that mat leave to last twenty years. I want to be a homemaker, a stay-at-home-mom. I don't think there is anything wrong with being a working mommy, no matter how old your child is. I used to baby a six-week-old so her mom could go to work. There is nothing wrong with that.

But I don't want to work. I want to be a full-time mom. I want to devote my life, my energy, my every waking moment to raising children that are each 50% me, and 50% my first love. First, because I know I will fall head-over-heels for each of those children.

I know that plans are nothing. That plans are just God's funny page in the newspaper. I know that all of these may change. Maybe we'll find ourselves expecting before M is done his apprenticeship. Maybe we won't have kids right away. Maybe I'll find a job and fall in love with that, and I'll want to go back to work. Maybe money will be tighter than we can handle, and I'll have to work. Who knows? Plans are just that.

But in the meantime, we talk. We toy, we jest, and we dream. What if we did something else? What if we started a business? What would we do if we could do anything? What kind of business do we want to see?

We spent much of the drive talking about this. Playing with the future and bouncing ideas back and forth.

So what would we do if we could do anything?

Open a gluten-free milkshake place/diner with some old-school arcade machines to make it a sweet hang-out spot. And it would also be a truck-stop with fantastic bathrooms.

How we got to this place, I couldn't tell you.

After our weekend, when we ate at an amazing gluten-free Mexican restaurant, we changed it up. We'd open one of those. He says our town doesn't have the demographic for a Mexican place to thrive, but who knows?

I love cooking, and baking, and serving food to others. I love making people something to eat. I love milkshakes, I love Mexican food.

He loves arcades, he loves old-school things. He would be happy tinkering and fixing and upgrading.

But only for so long. I don't know that we could make a go of this and be happy with it for years and years. There's a chance that it would be our passion. There's a chance that we would fall in love with the restaurant business. There's a chance we would never want to do anything else.

But is it a big enough chance to gamble our lives with?