So once the children are safely grown and (almost) flown, the mom gig is pretty much done, right?
Stop laughing out there, you grandmas! I know it’s not, and I hope to always be present and ready to help our children.
What I mean is we have moved past the busy day-to-day of it all.
I don’t have to shop, prepare, cook and clean up daily meals for multiple people.
I don’t have to fluff and fold endless piles of laundry.
Nobody needs a ride to — or picked up after — practice.
There aren’t nearly as many shoes to trip over as there used to be. Granted, Mr. Wonderful TRIES to keep our numbers up but he is, after all, only one man.
There aren’t as many dishes to wash, and there is absolutely no thrill of the hunt for wayward drinking glasses full of mystery liquid scattered throughout the house.
What is a person to do? Apparently, I am supposed to have hobbies? Who knew?
I suppose I have had hobbies and simply not realized it. For years, these hobbies included taxi driver, head cook, washerwoman, den mother, sideline bench sitter, avid listener, scrapbook aficionado, snack chef and official photographer of every activity great or small our children undertook. It was such a good gig.
As the kids grew, I tried to find new hobbies. I discovered that I do not enjoy crafts. A sip n’ paint event where we all gather to paint a canvas under the tutelage of a teacher while sipping wine holds all the appeal to me of, well, watching paint dry. I’ll pass, thank you.
Ditto gardening. I do not like to dig in the dirt. I do like shrubs and grass. That’s about it. I will go crazy and allow some hosta to grow, but mostly I just run those over with my lawnmower.
Mow for fun
Speaking of my lawnmower, I do love mowing the lawn. It’s relaxing, and I enjoy it. I’m counting that as a hobby. That’s a relatively new realization for me.
I literally did not even operate a lawnmower until I was well into my 30s. Nowadays, we have this cute little red riding mower, and it’s the closest I have been to driving anything sporty in ages. I hop on, turn up my Bluetooth headphones, and listen to my true crime podcasts while I mow.
Word to the wise: do NOT sneak up on me when I’m mowing. I’m probably deeply immersed in solving a murder and I will punch you if startled. Granted, I’ll probably miss and die of fright, so you won’t be in any real danger.
Honestly one of my favorite things is an entire weekend with few plans and endless time to putter around my house, organize, clean things and maybe paint something.
I don’t mean like a nice portrait. I mean like porch steps or a wall. I am a DIY addict from way back, and fussing with our house is definitely among my favorite activities.
I do love couple dates with friends. We took a ferry across the lake to a little island this summer. We drove around in golf carts and ate all day. Eating and sitting? Sign me up!
I do enjoy a nice little outing as long as it is balanced by ample time at home. I love being home.
I am wired so that I am completely sociable and love all the people — in limited doses and never after 9 p.m., thank you very much. I am known to use the phrase “it is too peopley” without irony and would rather be stabbed than attend a crowded concert, professional sporting event or anything at all involving a long line for the restroom.
Once a month or so I relish sitting around chatting with my four-person book club. Our adult children refer to it as “Cake Club” since we do, in fact, devour far more cake than literature. We all raised a bunch of sassy pants kids for certain.
My hobbies, I realize now, are staying home, not answering telephone calls, listening to true crime podcasts, snuggling small dogs, scrolling through social media, eating ice cream, dining out with Mr. Wonderful and our friends and thrift shopping.
I enjoy being at a point in life when I can relax, sleep in some days (not that our dogs allow that), and choose what to do with my time.
Granted, all hobbies can’t stick. I had started yoga classes a while back, and I didn’t hate it. Then, Covid came along and canceled those.
I took that as a sign that the Lord did not want me to exercise. Accepting that I had to give up that hobby turned out to be a piece of cake.
STAY INFORMED. SIGN UP!
Up-to-date agriculture news in your inbox!