I haven’t read anything closely resembling an adult book in a very long time. K and I go to the library about once a week or so, and I browse the bookshelves in awe. Sometimes I even grab one or two, but inevitably they are returned unread a week or two later.

K has much more success reading. We come home from the library piled high with books on animals, ABC’s, and numbers. She loves books, and every afternoon, before nap time, we read three or maybe ten, of her favorites. She has some of them memorized, and will start to read the story to me, changing words, pointing to pictures. If there is anything with bears she’ll put her own twist on the story. Bears are after all, at the same time, comforting and scary.

One of my young friends with young toddlers reads during naptime. I always seem to be blogging, or cleaning, or well, just having quiet time myself.

Needing quiet time isn't an older thing for me. I've always needed a lot of it. Down time to just look out the window and dream or think. In past days I'd read a lot but that doesn't really qualify as down time for me anymore. I want a totally quiet mind. That doesn’t happen very often, but I await that day patiently.

Reading is still important to me, and I get a bit of it in the bathroom method of speed reading.

Quick - close and lock door behind me before K rushes in. Pick up mag as I sit on throne. Read one paragraph as K calls mommy mommy, and then figures out I’m somewhere without her. Rush out of le toilet just as K start to whine at door.


To be continued on next post……