When I grow up I wanna be four.
When I grow up, I wanna be four years old.
Age four is magical. Full of hope.
Watching my girl make a wish on a coin by throwing it into a fountain is a sight to behold. Eyes squinched so tight, little fingers with a white knuckle grip on a penny and she shouts to the rooftops “I WISH I WAS A PRINCESS AND A POP STAR!!!!!” as she flings the penny with all her might. She believes it. And since she believes with such hope, I believe it, too. (And so do all the other 73 people who are now watching.)
Age four is magical. Full of love.
I want to love unconditionally, spreading smiles and hugs and sunshine wherever I go. Not concerned about the chocolate smear on my face or grubby dirt under my nails. I long to not give a second thought about someone’s past, future, size, beliefs, and more to those I am passing out hugs to. My daughter has a magical way of bringing smiles to stranger’s faces as she leaves a room. The cashier at Pier1 got three hugs and I only bought a wind chime. The teller at the bank had kisses blown to her. Imagine if you actually know her…
I look at my beautiful little child with so much love to share. I want to always have love to share and spare. Don’t you?
Age four is magical. Full of faith.
I want to have adventures as an astronaut in outer space simply because I am wearing a pizza box jet pack on my back and a KFC bucket space helmet on my head. I want that POWER in me! I don’t want to listen to the negative voices of the world and how they might like to define me. I want to believe who the person that loves me more than anything, says I am!
“Mommy, when I grow up, can I still be your little girl? Will you still sing me to sleep?”Yes, baby. No matter how grown up you are, you will always be my little girl. And I will always sing you to sleep.
I want to have faith in the grownups around me to be honest, faithful, responsible and true. To have faith that someone out there is always going to take care of me—and I never have to be afraid. I want that kind of faith and trust. By simply knowing and loving my daughter, I have regained a lot of that faith and trust. But I know there’s more to be had.
When I grow up, I want to be just like my little girl. I want to color outside the lines and create with endless abundance. I want my ribs to remain sore from giggling with my best friend. I want to never reach my hug quota. And I want to draw bunny ears and whiskers on construction paper, tape them to my face and hop the entire length of a parking lot, because I BELIEVE in magic.