This home loves books. Trips to the book store are like visiting Oz, or Wonderland, or Narnia, or Never Never Land. We only come home when we miss real stuff like hugs and good things to eat. Deliveries from Amazon (when we know a book is on its way) are like visits from our faery godmother. Oh-so-happy, we might do a little dance.
We have so many books, we don’t have proper shelves for them all. Books become furniture, coasters, or artistic towers lurking in corners. We also love sharing books. So much so, that we host a book exchange each Chanukah so others can share books too.
We believe that books have the power to change your life or your point of view. They come into your hands for a reason, even if that reason isn’t entirely clear.
In case, you weren’t sure – we love books.
I started reading to this little guy pretty early on (at 10 days old, to be precise). He was neutral, like books are okay, but I like boobs way better. But just before he turned one year old, the obsession with books began.
He loves books so much. Now it’s books for breakfast, lunch, and dinner around here.
So, one day I was congratulating myself as a parent, Wow, great job, Jazmine. He’s going to continue to love books ALL through his childhood. You’ll never have to bug him about his school reading list. He’ll probably tear right through it before you can even ask him about it! He’ll grow up to be a book-loving adult. Hooray!
And then I started thinking, I love books so much because my mom read books to me and now I’m and adult who loves books and reads books all the time…or often…or usually, yeah, that’s it, I’m usually reading a book, some book. Well, audio books count, right? They totally count. Actually, podcasts count too, right. Because I listen to A LOT of podcasts. They’re kinda like books. I mean they’re stories…so…yeah, I read all the time.
I call this a mom-fail because my job is to set a beautiful example for my son. He’s supposed to see me reading books, like my own books, even if I have to put those books down so that I can read to him. That’s how he learns to be a reader for life.
I realized I let the hustle of my life take over my personal joys, the little things that make me feel like a full day is a good day, that make me feel content when I close my eyes and prepare to dream. I let all the busy banish the books.
I’m just sooooooo busy.
Too busy to read? What?!?
Too busy to read is a horrible life. That’s a life I don’t want to live.
So, I I’m making a pact now to begin my day with a book and end my day with a book. That is, the paper kind. Books in between are bonus books (even if they are audio books).
It’s a New School Year resolution. Even though I’m not going to school. It’s my intention to be the kind of person I hope my son will be someday: curious, eager, ready, focused, thirsty. It’s my intention to be a dreamer, a lover of life, someone who embraces the experiences of others, treacherous or delightful, solemn or up-lifting.
It’s time to stop being so busy and read some books.
Tell me, are you a book lover who’s lost her way? Why? How does it make you feel? Any plans to head back to Oz?
Or are you a ravenous book eater? What book is captivating you right now?
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