My husband goes out to the gym three times a week. He goes fishing at weekends and out on his bike. He usually has a project on the go where he is making or fixing something. He will have a “lads night in” where he meets up with his friends and plays on the Xbox while eating takeaway pizzas washed down with beer. It is fair to say he has a pretty good social life and has many hobbies which I think makes him an interesting person and provides him with some excitement outside of family life. He is more than just a “Dad”.
And I was jealous of this. I had no hobbies. My life day in and day out revolved around the children and the house.
But I didn’t hold this against him, because whenever I had a (little) whinge about how lucky he was to be able to leave the house without worrying if he had enough nappies packed or hadn’t had time to wash his hair so it was tied up in a bun AGAIN, he would say to me “so go out and do something, I’m not stopping you.” And he was right! (Dammit)
What was stopping me from going out and doing something for me? Why couldn’t I go to a spinning class once a week while he watched the children? Well that probably was because I knew I would go bright red and sweaty and didn’t want people to see that! But you get where I am going with this? If I wanted to do something, to be something more than “Mum”, I needed to go and just do it.
I always made excuses like: “I can’t because I have children to look after.” “I’m too tired”, “We can’t afford it”… the list goes on. So one day I said to myself, ”
Mummy Pig Beth, stop making excuses and whinging to your loving, caring husband who just wants to help. Do something about it!!”
So I did.
However, this started a whole new issue: what was I actually good at?
When I was younger I used to go to StageCoach at the weekend where I sang, danced and acted and I loved it. I played the piano, the flute and had singing lessons. I played badminton. I would go shopping with my friends and as a I got older went to parties and had nights out. I feel like that was all a lifetime ago now.
However, I came to realise the two things I do every day (aside from checking my clothes for baby sick and cutting food into ridiculous shapes so my son will eat it), is reading and writing. Be that making shopping lists, writing some kind of thank you cards (anybody else feel like you are constantly thanking other people), posting on social media or reading my book. I then realised I have always loved doing these things. When I was little I was always writing stories or had my head in a book. My Grannie-Pip was very good at sending great new books to read, which in fact my own children read now.
So how could I turn this into a hobby where I have a focus and a reason to write just for fun? That’s when it clicked and I finally felt like I could say: this is what I do in my spare (haha) time. I would start a Blog.
The more I thought about it the more it made sense. I should write a Blog and combine my love of being a parent (I really do love it!), with my love of writing.
It means I also get to kill two birds with one stone as I can document our family life and share our memories with our children.
So thank you Husband, for having hobbies and getting my arse into gear. I love you.