Reading status these days is : RARELY.
Do I like this? No!
Am I okay with the atrophy of my reading muscles? Apparently.
Here’s a perfect snapshot of my typical routine these days:
Wake up to sounds of husband desperately trying to stay cool while monkeys 2 and 3 fight over YouTube, fairness, who ate too much Cinnamon Toast Crunch, fairness, who gets to hold the baby first, FAIRNESS, and basically, what’s fair and what’s not fair.
I think to myself, “Self, you should really be a good wife and mother, and get up and help negotiate this insanity.”
Then I think, “Self, this seems like a great opportunity to show hubs that you trust his parenting style and skills.”
More fighting/yelling/fairness negotiating…
Self gets up.
At this point, you see, 5/6 of this family is awake and personalities are on full display, firing on all cylinders, and ready for me to jump in and take sides. I have not even had coffee, folks. And mornings are just typically not my best showing. No time to read. No time to think really… Only time enough to grab the baby, get coffee, and thank the Lord (inside my head obviously, because I’m not ready to open my mouth and use words) I have a husband who gets up before me and tolerates and feeds 2 and 3, not to mention feeds and supervises number 4. (He’ll probably be grateful to read this and know that I do actually notice that he does this… Like I said. Morning. Words. Hard.)
We drive the man of the house to work (one-car family) and return home.
Upon returning home, I’m greeted by (as are most people who have outgrown their tiny homes with lots of tiny people who have not-so-tiny stuff. I’m talking about YOU, 8 month old) stuff. Stuff everywhere. Stuff on stuff it’s not supposed to be on. Stuff I didn’t even remember we had but somehow found it’s way out into the other stuff in the 20 minutes I was gone. Was that stuff really there all this time? I’m sure. But four children have a way of immersing you in their business to where you don’t know what’s even going on around you until you look away and then (force yourself to) look back.
The rest of the day looks like this:
Pick up Stuff. Feed tiny people. Pick up stuff. Make tiny people stop arguing over who spit on who first. Pick up Stuff. Try to get the tiny people to pick up the stuff. Say no. Pick up stuff. Say no. Get coffee out of the microwave. Say no. Repeat…
Then oh yeah, gotta make dinner, pick up husband, more stuff, and then get coffee back out of the microwave again.
Are you serious that I read 105 books last year? Did I actually do that?? Now, understandably, caring and providing for 4 children and a husband is significantly more important than reading fiction, but as this is a blog centered around my favorite hobby, herein lies the crux at the heart of this post.
RARELY do I get to read or do I find time to read – comparable to my last couple years.
Am I sad about this? Yes of course! But I can honestly say that, having an infant in the house has shifted everything and I have shifted along with it. Spending time with my man after the kids go to bed, and really have a conversation and maybe watch Somebody Feed Phil on Netflix (our favorite!), has replaced my former habit of jumping right into bed and escaping into another life. And while I will most likely not meet my goodreads reading challenge (52 books) for 2018, this year I can handle it. Life has been more challenging this year, more stretching, more full. It has required our absolute commitment to our marriage and our family, our commitment to important conversations, quality time and using relationships and friendship to sustain our sanity. Reading is still my favorite, but this year it’s about the people. Book friends are awesome, but they’re also imaginary and they don’t listen very well. I am still reading, and I will post about that, too, but my people have trumped my pastime. It’s okay. Good thing they’re adorable.
Their stuff is still everywhere.
It will all be okay.