Grandmothering, as I’ve now fully embraced, really is the queen of all hobbies . . . but what no one tells you is that this particular hobby has a way of completely reinventing itself somewhere around age thirteen.
And just when you think you’ve mastered it — or at least gotten reasonably good at it — everything changes.
The rules shift. The energy shifts. Even the way you “participate” in the hobby shifts. And if you’re not paying attention, you can find yourself wondering if you’ve somehow lost your touch.
You haven’t. You’re just in a new phase of your hobby.
When the Hobby Stops Looking Like a Hobby
With younger grandchildren, grandmothering feels active, obvious, and wonderfully exhausting. You know exactly what to do. Show up, get on the floor, read the book, play the game, repeat as needed.
Teenagers, however, have a slightly different participation model. They don’t always need you in the same visible ways, which can make it feel, at first, like you’re doing less. But in reality, this stage of grandmothering requires just as much engagement . . . it just looks different. Much quieter. Much subtler. And occasionally, much more confusing.
Learning the “Less Is More” Approach
If Part 1 of this hobby was about doing more . . . this part is about doing less. Less talking, less advising, less trying to fix or guide every moment. Which, if I’m being honest, takes a surprising amount of effort.
Because when you care — and we do — the instinct is to jump in, offer insight, share experience, maybe even throw in a helpful “when you were little . . . ” story.
Let me save you the trouble. No. Just no. This stage of grandmothering is less about being heard, and more about being available.
When Conversations Become Interpretive
I have learned that teenagers communicate in a language all their own. It often includes one-word answers, long pauses, and the occasional look that says, “I heard you, I’m just choosing not to respond fully at this time.”
At first, it can feel like you’re failing. You’re not. You’re just learning a new skill set, one that involves listening between the words, noticing tone, and recognizing that connection doesn’t always come wrapped in a full conversation. Sometimes it shows up in small ways. And if you’re paying attention, you’ll catch it.
The Long-Distance Version of This Hobby
Now add distance to the mix, and things get even more interesting.
With my grandsons in London, I don’t have the luxury of spontaneous connection. I can’t just drop by or casually step into their day. Everything requires intention. And patience — a lot of patience. Because when you combine time zones, teenage schedules, and modern communication habits, you quickly realize that connection may not happen exactly when you’d like it to.
But here’s what I’ve come to understand about this hobby: It’s not about constant interaction. It’s about consistent presence. They need to know you’re there, even if the response comes hours later or in three words or less.
Staying Relevant (Without Trying Too Hard)
This may be the most delicate part of grandmothering at this stage. You want to stay connected. You want to understand their world. You want to be someone they feel comfortable talking to. But you also don’t want to try so hard that it feels forced. Because teenagers can spot that immediately.
So instead, you become curious. You ask about what they like. You listen more than you speak. You learn just enough about their interests to follow along, without pretending to be an expert. And you resist the urge to turn every interaction into a teaching moment. Because sometimes, the best thing you can offer is simply your presence . . . without an agenda.
How This Hobby Taught Me to See Differently
This is where something unexpected happened for me. That photography class I took before my trip to Paris? I originally thought it would help me take better pictures. And it did. But more than that, it changed how I approach this hobby. Because with teenagers, the moments you want to hold onto are easy to miss.
They’re quick. Subtle. Often unannounced. A laugh that slips out. A relaxed moment when they forget to be guarded. A glimpse of the little boy they used to be, still quietly there. And if you’re not paying attention, it’s gone.
Photography taught me to slow down just enough to notice those moments. Not to interrupt them. Not to stage them. Just to appreciate them. And that has made this stage of grandmothering feel richer in ways I didn’t expect.
Letting the Hobby Evolve
If there’s one thing I’m learning, it’s this: You can’t approach this stage of grandmothering the same way you approached the last one. You have to adjust. Adapt. Evolve. You have to let go of what used to work, and be open to what works now.
And that’s what makes this a hobby worth investing in. Because it’s not static. It grows right alongside the people you love most.
A Gentle Thought to Carry With You
If grandmothering younger children is about showing up in big, visible ways, grandmothering teenagers is about showing up quietly, consistently, and without expectation.
And maybe the question isn’t whether you’re doing enough. Maybe it’s whether you’re allowing the relationship to grow into what it needs to be now. Because this version of the hobby may look different . . . but it’s no less meaningful.
From my experience, this stage of grandmothering may be quieter, but if you stay present, it has a way of speaking volumes.
And please be sure to check out the other blogs in our Hobby Series:
- Grandmothering, the Queen of All Hobbies! Ages 0-12
- Cooking as a Hobby? I Never Thought I’d Embrace That Idea!
- How Writing As A Hobby Changed My Life
Until next time, keep . . .
