I love to read, but often don't make the time. One of the problems I find is that once I've started I don't want to put the book down- even when my children need something. I also get perturbed if I am interrupted while reading a book. It's not as bad if I'm reading a blog or magazine article- perhaps it has something to do with the length of the book or a deeper level of thought and involvement- on my part- when I'm reading a novel.
I try to read at night, but am often too tired. I'll hold the book in my hands as I'm laying in bed, with my bedside lamp on, and then roll over, put the book down, and turn off the light. All without even turning a page.
The last couple of months I've made a renewed effort and have been successful in finishing several books. I alternate between trash and worthwhile stuff. I love Maeve Binchy, Belva Plain and Pat Conroy, Anne Lamott, and Sue Monk Kidd.
Yesterday, while supervising the clean up of the family room (one of these days I'll remember to take a before and after picture), I finished Forever Lily. I wasn't thrilled with the style. The writer told her story interspersed with many dreams. The dreams were part of the story, but I got to the point that while I knew they were significant, I just wanted to skip them to keep reading the story.
Beth Russell describes her trip to the Chinese orphanage in anguishing detail. The babies two to a crib, lying silently, in row after row; the older ones bundled thickly and bound in a sitting position in a chair, lining the hallway. Most of them girls. Waiting. Some waiting for families, some waiting to die. They don't cry because they know it doesn't get their needs met.
It's not a surprise that the author ends up with the baby. It is clear throughout the story that she and the baby were destined to be together.
I finished the book, knowing that this is why we have eight kids. It is destiny. It is our path. I don't think we are done yet- and that is why I keep say never say never. I'm not attracted to babies just because they are cute and vulnerable, begging to be held and cared for. It's because I am supposed to be there for them.
Even today, as I am whiny and cranky from not having enough 'me time', I realize that it's true. Even after a trip to the local doc in a box on Saturday, at bedtime for a two year old's bladder infection, and after Grace vomited at Applebee's (we left a very big tip) last night. Even after I finally pulled up the piece of carpeting, in the closet, that Abe had used as his own personal litter box. Even after I look forward to sleeping all night long. I wonder when the next phone call will come. I wonder if we will say yes, again.
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5 comments:
I'm just tuning in here, and am wondering what the story is about how your family came together. Do you have an about page that I'm missing? I have a fantasy to foster a child, but my husband is not currently on board.
I don't have an about page that explains... I should. Or at least the links that explain... I'll get on that.
I agree with you... you are supposed to be there for them. I don't even know your kids, but I know you're a great mom.
If you find yourself looking for another good read – Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls. I couldn't put it down.
The parents? Mehh- not so good, but it's not a judgemental memoir, she paints the picture and lets you decide.
The book time sounds very good. I think when I get me-time (rarely) I am better equipped to be there for my kids and people. But I have neglected my old friends Books. I miss them.
I have The Glass Castle if you want to read it. I lent it out and will pass it on when I get it back!....:-)
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