It’s mommy confession time my friends. I’m married to an author, yet I’m not an avid reader. People don’t get this about me.
Well let me tell you why I don’t read very often…
I LOVE READING!!!
There. Is that a good enough reason for you? Are you laughing at my insanity? (It’s okay. I’m laughing a bit myself.)
Let me ‘splain. No there is too much, let me sum up.
When I read, as I’m sure many of you do, I enter into a little bubble world where I am engulfed in the setting of the book. The characters are real people. Friends. Enemies. I am an onlooker, with a personal window into these beautiful worlds. I get lost there. I allow the windows of my imagination to open and distant worlds flood my brain.
And then…just as soon as all is well and established in this world…and usually in a moment of intensity…
*World dissolves. Friends disappear.*
It never fails.
According to my hubby, this moment is almost as bad as waking me from a deep sleep. You never know what may happen. You never know what may be said. 🙂
So, this is why. As much as I love reading, I just can’t escape into that world very often…at this point in life. I want to appreciate all of the beautiful artwork (also known as scribbles on used paper) that my children are proud of and I must see at any particular moment. I want them to tell me all the brilliant ideas they’ve come up with. Without accidentally snapping at them for interrupting my world. Most of all, I want them to read…and I feel that me getting grumpy while reading will hinder that.
I’m working on it. I recently started re-reading my hubby’s book in the evenings, rather than watching meaningless tv to fill the time between dinner and bedtime. Modelling reading as important & not being snippy when disturbed. (It helps that I’ve read the book before.)