What I want my children to have.

Confidence.
I don't know how I ended up with this much confidence, but it's been really working out well for me. I think and talk through decisions and make a choice I feel the most comfortable with. I hope my confidence and self-esteem doesn't come off as being aloof, I certainly don't think I'm perfect and can do no wrong. I don't think anyone is perfect, but I think I'm definitely pretty awesome. Little things don't tend to bother me, people say things that others ask "aren't you annoyed by that?!" and no, not really. I am able to recognize what what people say is mostly a reflection of themselves, and how they are feeling. So I don't let it affect me. I'm not sure if I even do it consciously most of the time, like if I'm actively choosing to not feel a certain way, or if it's just how I am. So many people seem to think they have to reach certain goals, or do XYZ to feel worthy, or they feel like they are awful parents and screwing their kids up. I don't have a lot of goals. Enjoying a happy and healthy life and raising great people are my goals. I do that every day, and if one day has a few blips that's okay and totally normal. Tomorrow is another chance, and we get a lifetime of tomorrows! I'm not an awful parent, my kids prove to me every day that I'm doing a lot right. Maybe if they were more challenging I'd second guess that? I know I'm lucky with easy kids, but then again maybe they are easy because I rock at parenting?? We'll see how the next 5, 10, 15 years go! I have a feeling we'll be okay, and if not we will get through it. But anyway, I think confidence is a wonderful personality trait. I am not confident in every single thing I do, of course, but I'm confident to know I'm not a failure even if I make a wrong choice.

Happiness.
This is obvious, right? I want them to know joy. To feel happy when they've made others happy. I hope they have a lifetime full of happy memories, of times they giggled with friends and erupted into laughter so strong that it caused tears to fall down their faces as they gasp for breath. I want them to experience things in life that make them happy. Foods they love, places they want to travel to, things they long to do. I hope they get lots of chances to participate in things that bring them happiness.

Questions.
I want them to think about and question everything. Not in a skeptical argumentative way, but in a thoughtful way to encourage conversation. Conversation is always a good thing. I hope they are good communicators, and if that isn't their strong point I hope they can at least value the importance of communicating in spite of it being something they struggle with.

Answers.
Sometimes they will have questions, but sometimes they will have answers. I hope they can feel knowledgeable in a few areas, and comfortable being a source of information for others. Whatever they have to contribute to the world, I hope it's something positive that they can share to help someone else. I don't care if it's a friend, a few peers, a group of employees, a city, or the world leaders. They have something to contribute.

Trust.
If you stop to think about everything wrong with the world it can be a scary dark place. I want them to believe that there is good. That the world has so many beautiful unbelievably GOOD things that happen every single day. I hope they learn to trust that they are full of stars, and that everyone else is too, but sometimes things get in the way of letting those stars shine. But trust that even in dark times there is a time for light.

Love.
Especially loving a child. I don't know if it's possible to experience love this deeply unless you are a parent. The kind of love where you watch your child draw a circle for the first time. Where you see them make a good decision despite what a friend is doing. When they offer the last cookie to you even though you know they really want it. When they rest their head on your shoulder and know that every single thing in their world is absolutely perfect just because you are together. That kind of love makes my heart swell. It makes me realize that my parents felt the same way watching me grow up. There's a very interesting thing that happens when you come full circle like that. Gratitude, relief, a sense of peace. And the realization that the gift of raising the next generation is on your shoulders, and that raising them with love has the power to change the world for the better. That kind of love is hard to explain. There is more love. Loving a job, finding what they are passionate about. Loving a significant other, falling in love and feeling excited and nervous and confused and beautiful and wanted and loved. Loving a pet, and knowing when it's time to end that pet's suffering. Loving something so much that letting it leave is the right choice, despite what your heart is telling you. If my children don't have their own kids one day then I hope it's by choice, and not in spite of them trying. The decision to not have children is completely okay, one I will respect even though I know I'd love to experience the love of being a grandma. But if my kids want to be parents and can't make that dream come true, oh, my heart hurts at the thought of it. Something I hope they will always be aware of is my love for them. No matter what. I may not always like the decisions they make, I assume I won't! But they are my children, they exist because I wanted them more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. They are a part of me, and they carry my love. I hope they know that. I hope they can feel it when it's quiet. I hope they can hear me humming Edelweiss while rocking them back and forth against my beating heart.

(Or as I sing it, "bless my baby forever.")