This afternoon I went to the elementary school Scholastic book fair. The smell of the books, journals and rubbery pencil erasers is definitely a core memory for me! I’ve always loved to read. As a kid my mom had to force me to put my books down and go outside and get exercise during the summers. Left to my own devices I would have happily laid around in bed all day reading. Who am I kidding. If left to my own devices right now I’d likely lay around in bed all day reading!

I average about 6 books a month. Some years it’s more, some it’s less. When the pandemic hit, I was so excited because I thought I was going to get so much reading time. Wrong. I hardly read any books in 2020. My year end number was even lower than the years when I had newborn babies! It was mostly because I was suddenly everyone to both my kids. Mom, teacher, and playmate. I loved it. I loved deep covid time when we were all at home, days blurring together. Puzzles covering the dining room table, art projects drying on any available surface and epically long board games that actually reached conclusion. I read to my kids a ton, but my own reading suffered. I’m back up to my pre-pandemic levels of reading. Some day when my kids are grown and I’m not working I’m sure my 6 book a month average will increase. 

We literally have thousands of kids’ books in our home. We have an entire room that we call the library which houses said books as well as our board games. It’s a very happy room for me. The shelves are bursting with brightly colored picture books, early readers, and kid chapter books. From The Hardy Boys, to fairies, non-fiction books about the Wright Brothers to dragons in the Wings of Fire. Our shelves are bowing with the weight of all the books. Did that stop me from shopping the school book fair? Not for a moment! I walked out with a stack of books to share and enjoy all while supporting the school library to help beef up their bookshelves! 

Every time I buy more books I just remind myself it could be worse! It could be drugs!