Hobbies for Moms with No Time to Have Hobbies

Sometimes in the process of deep cleaning (the scary, spiders are a real possibility, kind), you find things that surprise you. Pieces of yourself that have either been forgotten or put away "for a bit", that instead end up lost behind the vacuum, extra sheets and some interesting wedding gifts for an eternity.

On a mission to find some rummage sale donations, I found some of these... my old hobbies.

As I dug through our big basement closet for a tote full of garage sale left overs, I came upon my old
high school sketch pad.  As I looked through it I was surprised by how good I was.  Over the years I've bought new pads and pencils, planning to draw again, and out of about 8 pads I've used a grand total of 0 pages.  Not for lack of wanting, mostly just a lack of time or at the very least timing.  The kids make up for it though, using every page - so at least those $10/50 sheet pads of paper aren't wasted...

As I dug deeper, I found a half finished needlepoint, a whole tote of yarn, a box of oil paints, brushes and a half finished canvas, a box of VHS aerobics tapes.  There were probably a notebook or two of poetry in there too.  A whole closet of things I did when I had nothing to do.

And yes, I do realize I have the hobbies of an older middle-aged woman.  I also have a collection of decorative plates, what does that say about me?  If I had a half dozen cats and 25 days worth of ugly Christmas sweaters I could probably inspire a skit on Saturday Night Live. Luckily I derailed the crazy cat-lady train when I got married and had kids.

That's also when I realized that free time is taken for granted in the pre-kid years.  Meals aren't timed by impending tantrums.  You can pick up a book and spend an hour reading without interruption.  You might even just slip on your shoes and take a walk, without a plan, supplies or a half an hour spent looking for one small shoe.

I didn't intend to quit my hobbies when the kids came along, but it was just easier than trying to do them while being interrupted...every time.  Juice splatters on the sketch pad, tiny hands trying to tip the turpentine and not a single second of silence to ponder poetry or read a book. I traded wilderness photo shoots for candid baby shots, and aerobics for 100 reps of "pick up the toy and return it to the child in the high chair".  I still get to be creative with birthday cakes, decorations, and Halloween costumes, but all my hobbies now have a kid element.

Some parents manage to keep their hobbies post-kid, I get a mini guilt attack going for a walk and leaving the bedtime duties to dad.

Hobbies make people interesting, they give you something to talk about, to share with others, and since I don't have time to squeeze in some glamorous activities to make me seem cool and worldly, I decided to make some of what I have to do everyday my new hobbies, including:

1. Professional Driving.
   Whether I'm headed to school, the store or back home, the kids are loaded and locked, the radio is under my control and nobody can get into anything, what's not to love.
   
2. Repeating Myself.
   If I say it once, I say it 4 to 8 times. This hobby is a bit tedious, I'm considering giving it up and getting a parrot or digging a large valley between the living room and the kids bedroom so when I yell "Clean your room!" it will echo a few times at their end and I won't have to do it myself.
   
3. Yelling. 
   I think before I had kids there were years in a row when I didn't yell once, now with just a few years of practice I'm able to reach volumes and tones beyond my wildest imagination. I can also project not only sound but a sense of urgency loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
   
    
4. Making PB&J Sandwiches.
   I challenge anyone on Food Network to take on my PB&J skills.  Of course, I'd lose because JIF, Welch's Grape and Target brand white bread does not a Next Food Network Star make, but the efficiency of my sandwich assembly is a sight to be seen.
   
    
5. Saying NO.
   From the simple "No" to more sarcastic "Ahhhhhhh No." and occasionally the rapid machine gun firing "No no no nonononono NO!"  My faves include the "interrupting no": "Mom can I.." "No." and "read my mind no": "What do you think...." "No?" "Right." The "Art of the No" is an ancient one, but a challenge worth investing some time into.
   
6. Reading the same books over and over and over. 
   Which leads to other hobbies just to cope with the 14th night in a row of "Little Blue Truck", for example: singing books that weren't intended to be songs - if it rhymes it's fair game.  And reading books with accents and changing the words - Oh, you didn't know Curious George was Italian? Now you do.
   
7. I said.... Repeating Myself!
   Sorry... it's just a habit.
   
8. Questioning kids' cartoons. 
   
   
   Why does Mickey wear pants and Donald wear a shirt? Why is Goofy a dog that acts like a person and Pluto a dog that acts like a dog?  Why does Daniel Tiger's home have tiger patterned window curtains.  If I had human skin pattern curtains people would be totally freaked out, but PBS must think this is fine.
   
9. Clock Watching. 
   10 minutes to lunch... that'll keep them quiet for 7 minutes. 3 hours to bedtime, I can do this.  I. Can. Do. This.
   
10. Karaoke.
    Because sometimes I want an audience that isn't picking their noise, telling me to be quiet, or interrupting me at my favorite part of a song every single time.  And I don't have a real mic at home.
    
11. Thinking about wine way more than I actually drink it.  
    I wish I could be more dedicated to an actual wine drinking hobby, but since it's one of the more expensive ones I want to make sure to give it my all - so I don't drink when I'm tired or when I know I can't finish the bottle, so that's pretty much not a lot.
    
12. Sharing my kids mischief, mistakes and occasionally their cuteness and achievements for all of social media to enjoy.
    I figure, since I made them I own the copyrights to everything they do and say until they are 18 and I better take advantage of it while they are still too young to retaliate.
    

Someday I'll get back to drawing, photography, writing poems that don't have potty words in them. Until then I'll focus on perfecting my mom hobbies and hope they make me just interesting enough that I don't have to get a cat and a closet full of Christmas sweaters.

9 Ways Love Hurts When You're a Mom

Watch your back, the floor, and your heart when these guys are around.

No woman plans for having a child without expecting a little pain, and most little ones don't disappoint in arriving with a soul splitting dose of ouch, but it's the hurt that follows that moms aren't prepared for.  The mom truth is, unconditional love hurts ... as the song goes loves scars, love wounds and mars...

Here's just a few of the many ways:

1. The Newborn Burn
   Stitches, hemorrhoids, tender tatas... those first few weeks are the pop quiz of Mom pain and you forgot to prepare, even when the birth injuries start to heal, that darling 7-8-9-10lb baby in a few weeks will be a 9-10-11-12 pounder and hauling that darling and their endless gear is a "feel the burn" kind of workout that doesn't end for a good 2 years.
   
2. Brutal Babies
   One day your child is a sweet snugly angel, sucking on her clinched fists, swaddled in your arms, the next day the arms are flailing and those clinched fists have become velcro mitts ready to grab and grasp anything with in reach.  Favorites include: your ears, handfuls of hair, your nose, your favorite necklace and occasionally they'll get in a good eye poke or head butt to your mouth or nose and you're left looking like you just went 10 rounds with that know-it-all-mom down the street.  Why must face holes be so enticing and baby heads so hard.  I'm pretty sure the inventor of Scünci hair binders was a mom just trying to save what was left of her hair.
3. Tough Toddlers
   A year or two of hauling your spawn has left you with enviable biceps, but the added strength doesn't always make up for the awkward stances you have to take when holding your well-coordinated toddler. No, you don't need the help of a tiny hand when writing a check, answering your phone or stirring the mac & cheese, but they refuse to believe you're capable of managing these tasks on your own.  The result is awkward hip angles, neck stretching and back twisting that leaves you hoping there's still time for a hot bath at the end of the day.  Spoiler Alert: Not gonna happen.
   
4. You're Killing Me Kids!
   Once the children can be trusted to walk on their own, your spine starts to straighten and your head can safely center itself over your body, but the hurt doesn't end.  Whether you're hauling a dead fish tantrum thrower out of a store (how do they make their 50lbs feel like a 100?)  Or just poor decision making, like when I thought 3 weeks after gall bladder surgery I could carry my sleeping seven year old to her bed, only to tear some not quite yet healed stomach muscles.   The bigger kids bring the pain with their pounds, they also bring a new kind of hurt...
   
5. Don't Go Breakin' My Heart
   You send your kids off to school with hugs and smiles, knowing full well you're throwing them to the wolves. Sure enough, they bring home heartache.  It's impossible to prepare them for a world where they aren't the center.  It's impossible to explain why people are mean. Why "so & so" says you can play with her one day and not the next.  Why they didn't get the part in the the school play they wanted.  Because if it were up to you, they'd get everything they want.  So you join in their misery, but a mom's heart breaks twice, once for their pain and once for not being able to make it better for them.  The same goes when your child is sick or injured.  It hurts to see them hurt, that's how you know you're doing this mom thing right.
   
6. Insane in the Brain Pain
   Children bring the noise.  Before kids the sound in your home was mostly controlled - the music was loud when you wanted, there was silence when you wanted, when you heard a strange sound, you could usually find it without too much trouble.  But, the baby bag of tricks is mostly noise, uncontrolled noise, noise from them, noise from their things and eventually strange noises from their battery depleting toys, and a whole room to search for the Stinky the Garbage Truck that's saying in a low, creepy, dying battery voice "Heh. Heh. Thaaaaaat'sssss Grrrrroooossss!"  All that noise usually ends in a pounding headache and sometimes a sore throat from all that yelling at them to be quiet...because that always works.
   
7. Weapons of Mass Foot Destruction
   My kids love to collect weapons of mass foot destruction, from Monster High Doll shoes to Legos and Hotwheels cars with hard little spoilers.  You learn to walk so your feet brush the ground before you fully step down, and night vision goggles are a must for the 10PM bed check. Even the most innocent looking jacket left on the kitchen floor can bring immense pain when you land on a zipper just right.
   
8. Self-Inflicted Wounds
   Self-inflicted pain is the most common in love, especially the unconditional, from my loins, type of love.  Of course you want the best for your kids.  You think you know what they will enjoy, so you plan something special for them and it's received without the anticipated, "I love you Mom! You're the best, most amazing, hilarious, and down right beautifulist mom in the whole world... wait, universe!".   Okay.. that may have been expecting a bit much as a reaction for a surprise trip down to the beach before running errands, but, they could have at least given a tiny jump for joy. Next time we'll just go straight to the grocery store.
   
9. Back to the Burn...
   My kids are getting older and I find as the physical demands of care decrease, the mental and emotional elements increase, along with the levels of acid in my stomach.  Before one month is done, the next is full of obligations, doctor's appointments, dance, nature club, school events - just trying to remember when to pick up who is a challenge, let alone which kid definitely needs cold lunch because they are on a field trip that day.  And, that doesn't even take into account my own work, household chores and the dozen loads of dirty laundry that await me each weekend. The answer: Tum Ta Tum Tums.  Some maybe able to handle all that with style and grace.  I, on the other hand, am a tornado of blond hair, weekly planner pages and Tums causing a path of destruction while trying to get my world under control.  My middle name is Ironic.  The stress is probably doing irreparable damage I won't won't learn about for years, but all the calcium in the antacids should at least protect me from osteoporosis, right? 

I'm sure the worst is yet to come when my kids enter the teen years and bed time snuggles that help heal the pains of the day are replaced with a "knock, knock, good night" on a bedroom door.  That's why moms suffer the baby head butts, heartbreaks and stress with a smile (even if forced or wine induced).  Unconditional love hurts, but it's for the most precious of people, our darling kiddos, and who wouldn't endure anything for them.