Thirty years ago I had a four year old. He looked a lot like this four year old. Not surprisingly, this is his son. When our children are young, we have aspirations for them and dreams of them being successful. As we observe them in their formative years, we think maybe we have figured out what they might become as adults. There’s the one that likes attention – maybe he’ll be an actor. There’s the one that excels in sports – maybe he’ll be a pro athlete. There’s the one that likes to read – maybe he’ll be a teacher. And the riddle goes on and on.
All we parents want though, is our children to be happy. That’s it, plain and simple. No matter what vocation they choose, we just want them to enjoy their lives or at the very least, feel contented.
I found that my own sons changed direction so many times that it was impossible to keep up with what they really wanted out of life. It wasn’t mine to figure out. They got to do that and I had no say whatsoever. They do find their way. And now that they all have children of their own, I am again, observing. Wonder what she will do. Wonder what he will become. Look at how well he’s doing that… etc, etc. I stop and remember, it’s not mine to figure out. They will all find their way… and a cowboy, that will be just fine.