Saturday, October 8, 2011

Hope Springs Eternal

In my former life, I was a bookworm extraordinaire, an English major, and a one-time law student. I love to read.

Now, I am a mother.


But hope apparently springs eternal. Despite mothering for almost five years now, with near continual demands on my attention, I still carry books with me wherever I go. I have books I'm currently reading stashed all over the house but, if I have a favorite I'm passionate about, I carry it upstairs and downstairs throughout the day in hopes of getting to read just one more page.

Above is the photo of the books I pathetically hoped to be able to read while in the back yard with the kids. As I grabbed my keys and phone to go out back, my thought process actually went like this: "Oh great, I'll grab a book. Yes, this one. Oh, but I might get to read so long that I'll finish it. I'll grab this one too. But what if I finish that one? I'd better bring three."

This bookworm's hope is so delusional that I think I might finish three books--even small ones--while supervising two little children--and answering their zillion questions about worms and rocks and flowers--plus an awake baby.

Yes, well, I got to read a few pages!

4 comments:

  1. ha ha - I do the same thing! I was so sad to discover I didn't have any of my books in the car while we were at a park for an hour this morning. Missed reading opportunity for sure :-(

    Luckily Phillip's Kindle was in the car -- loaded with some classics, so I did get to read a little J. Austin :-)

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  2. This makes me smile.

    Sometimes I get to read when David drives us somewhere. And sometimes I get to read a page or two while nursing in the daytime...if Teresa's not around to notice, grab a book of her own, and beg me to read it to her instead. :)

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  3. Love this! I brought four books (yes four!) thinking I might read on the eight hour flight here. Didn't get to open any but still, the hope I'd get a few pages in was there!

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  4. Meghan: On my many solo cross-country trips to take the kids home to visit family in California, I'd lug heavy books with me. Because--you know--me, by myself, would be able to manage both kids, or even just John when he was all I had, and he'd just hang out quietly while I enjoyed a good book--right? I think it took about three years of flying back and forth before I submitted to reality and stopped taking any books at all, accepting that I'd simply spend the entire flight occupying children.

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