As my nest empties anew, I have begun to think I need new hobbies. I used to be a soccer and track sidelines mom. I think I earned a varsity letter by clapping politely and saying “nice hustle!” Still, once the kids are grown, the opportunity for that really wanes.
Scrapbooking was my jam for many years. I absolutely adored doing it, and I still cherish the memories captured. Now, I take less photos of family adventures on a daily basis and more of the dogs. Those just go right to social media. My dogs have fans, after all.
Speaking of dogs, being an indulgent dog mom does take up quite a bit of time. We have daily walks, snacks, more snacks, snuggles, playtime and so on. My dogs have outfits. They need jackets. It gets chilly. I never thought I would be a “dog mom” but here I am.
I enjoy thrift shopping, but I also enjoy keeping our home clean and uncluttered. I visit thrift stores the way some folks visit museums. I like to get an up-close and personal look at old things that jog my memories, such as “my gram had that canister set!” You have never seen someone get so excited about a 1960s “Tang” jar as I once did.
Then, I leave the items on the shelf for someone else to discover. Alternately, I bring things home only to donate them back weeks later.
I read that in order to find my new hobby, I needed to look at what I currently enjoy doing and build off that. Thus, my current hobbies include, but are not limited to, the following.
I relish ordering things online, then decluttering and getting rid of them, then buying local, then decluttering again. I enjoy purchasing “anti-aging” potions and serums that pile up in my cabinets. Never mind that if even half of them worked, I would have anti-aged back to roughly six years old by now.
I am fond of filling up my phone with decorating ideas, recipes and memes then not doing, preparing or sharing most of them.
I like becoming way too involved in the shows I binge-watch. I can no longer handle the pressure of a “cliffhanger.” I need the entire series to be available in its entirety so I can watch from beginning to end. “Just one more episode before bedtime” has become “just one more season.”
I revel in rocking out in my candy apple red Firebird with the tee-tops down, wind in my hair, feeling 23 again until I snap to and realize I’m more than twice that old, my sports car is now a SUV and I get cranky if the vents blow too hard in my general direction.
I am committed to eating ice cream every day of my life, because life is simply too short to skip dessert. I also fancy looking at photos and wishing I was currently as “fat” as I thought I was in my 30s. See also: nightly ice cream. I have fun reheating coffee in the microwave repeatedly because I swear I can’t get by without it, even as I forget to drink it.
I get a kick out of claiming I want to try hiking or kayaking, despite no evidence in the history of time that indicates I would be good at; or enjoy, either of those activities.
Finally, I really dig questioning whether the weather will cooperate with mowing, when I last mowed and when I should plan to mow again. Basically, planning for adequate lawn maintenance is a big part of my week. I wish I was kidding.
Speaking of grass, I feel too young to shake my fist and scare kids off my lawn. I do, however, feel I am just about the right age to complain about the weather, the price of most things and why people seem to have terrible phone manners these days.
I’m going to want to ease into those hobbies though. I feel like complaining about the price of gas and lumber alone could morph from a hobby into a full-time job.
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