A couple of months ago, I started a new creative medium. One I always thought I could never do. I started writing.
I still get a thrill every time I walk into Cory’s and Alecia’s room or Kyle’s room and it feels like I’m walking into a storybook. And I love sculpting. And watercolors. And card making and scrapbooking and even sewing and lots and lots of other little things. But nothing, NO creative outlet even comes close to comparing to the high I get when I write.
With all other hobbies I have, I do them when my kids are asleep and I have no housework calling my name. But not with this. For the first time, it is a hobby that is not on the very bottom of my list of things to do. I have sworn not to let my family, my calling, school, or other service things (like PTA) take a hit because of writing. But if you’ll notice, my house isn’t on that list. With writing, I have a hard time standing there folding clothes when there are stories happening in my head, and my computer is only a couple of rooms away. I fall asleep Tuesday nights giddy with the prospects of having 2 ½ hours to write the next morning. When my kids are outside playing, I take a laptop out while I watch them. I even love the 15 minute drive to school and back, because that means I can be figuring out the next part to the story while I am driving. I am totally, completely, and hopelessly addicted to my new hobby, and I am loving every minute of it!


