I want to be an electrician, no wait, an electrical engineer, a firefighter, a trash collector, the person who draws happy faces on your receipt when you leave Sam’s Club.

Just as I charted my children’s first words, first foods and charming quotes over the years, I find myself tracking their ever-changing career ambitions. Their goals give me a window into their most beloved interests and their perceptions of the world — their states of mind at a specific moment of childhood.

When my son told me he wanted to be a trash collector, all he could think about was how much he really wanted to operate that huge robotic arm that picks up the garbage bins. For months he would dash outside every time he heard the trash truck approaching and stare longingly after it as it made its way up the street, methodically emptying each bin.

I want to be an Army soldier, a race car driver, an astronaut, a zookeeper, an elf.

Childhood ambition doesn’t factor in one’s strengths and weaknesses. They simply look for the fun, unconstrained by fear of failure or injury, or even reality.

When I look back on the days when my son insisted he was part elf and destined for a future as a toymaker, I will know it was the ambition of a child raised on fairy tale books and made-up stories at bedtime.

Of course, parents have their own aspirations for their children. When I think of the future, I hope my boys excel at careers they enjoy. I want them to be successful and perform meaningful work that allows them to financially support themselves and their families.

Some of the visions I’ve had for my children are just as wildly ambitious and ambiguous as their own: artist, doctor, author, web designer, president of the United States.

But their dreams are theirs alone, and while nudging them to explore the world and to keep their options open, I resist the urge to push too hard in one direction or another. They need to chart their own paths. That is part of the struggle as a parent — knowing when to nudge and when to let them wander. True learning comes from the journey.

I want to be a YouTube star, a Pokemon trainer, a train conductor, a robot builder, a professional video game player. Is that a job?

As their minds mature, questions arise. Like, “I wonder if the Pokemon like being kept in little balls and forced to battle one another.”

Tempered by time and experience, “I want to be a Major League Baseball player” becomes “I want to be a baseball coach.” They begin to whittle their ambitions down to pursue realistic careers based on their aptitudes as well as their passions.

And so it must be. Kids grow up. But at least I still have my list to help me remember.

“She Speaks” is a weekly column by the women writers of the Honolulu Star-Advertiser. Reach Donica Kaneshiro at dkaneshiro@staradvertiser.com.