Hobby Found

Every so often, I go through a self-doubting phase when it comes, well everything.  I have a bad habit of overly critiquing everything I do, from my work to my parenting style. I wonder if I am smart enough, good enough, funny enough, loving enough, playful enough, disciplined enough, healthy enough. It’s a bad habit that I am working on correcting and I took a big step toward this in January (I thought!)

I recently trained, and completed, my first ½ marathon. I didn’t really enjoy running—at all. While I liked what effect the effort was having on my physical appearance, my mental state was not finding peace and calm in running, as many people claim it should. Instead, I found myself doing a bit more self-hating than being proud of myself. I was frustrated with myself for taking time away from my kids, who already have such lean time and I was disappointed that I wasn’t uncovering a passion—unlike many around me, I didn’t love running.

I have been on a journey forever to find what I am passionate about. What can I not live without? Clark has running and guitar—two things that rank in his top priorities. I have tried cooking, baking, book club, running, swimming, etc. None of these things spark what I think they should.  They always feel forced and unnatural (as a passion) and leave me feeling bummed that, yet again, I don’t care about anything.

Then the event happened at it was spectacular. However, something that should have been obvious all along was that the spectacular part had nothing to do with the sport. The part that felt so right and perfect to me was the 13.1 miles alongside (and sometimes a step or two behind) my Dad. It was seeing the faces of my family at mile 5, and at the finish. These were the moments that I will cherish forever. And that’s when it hit me.  What matters to me isn’t (and has never been) the activity, instead it’s the people around me. 

 

All that’s good and right in my life, and where I am at best is on the living room floor, surrounded by my people. Amidst the piles of toys and disheveled books sits my….everything. My hobbies.

I am so incredibly blessed to have three little hearts that adore me, six little (well, big) blue eyes who see only good. Three sweet, precious kids who  ground me in what I am best at—snuggling, kissing, singing love songs (often made up for each one), dancing in the kitchen around the island. They are my hobby, my passion, and the things I can’t live without.  Anything else that I attempt leaves me empty as it is ultimately taking time away from what I love.

 

So, I am officially declaring my kids my hobby. Does that mean I will never run another race—no…But it means I will do it when it’s right for me, and them. I will not let myself live vicariously through them (yuck!), but I will live with them. What I will be great at is being Mommy. And I will never be apologetic or doubt the importance of this.

And one day, whether it’s shopping together, cooking (or finding new restaurants and food together), or running a ½ marathon together, skiing together, whatever together, I want to look over my shoulder and see them. The time and effort that I put into them now, I pray, will lead to a lifetime of friendship with them. I don’t care if they ever think I was good at any one thing, but I want them to learn about everything through me (and with me). They will be what I enjoy more than any activity and where I spend my free time.

Sounds like some I grew up looking up to: