I have to admit something. I tell people all the time that I’ve always been a reader and a writer. That is mostly true. From the time I learned to read, I devoured books. From Little Women, to The Babysitter’s Club, to Sweet Valley High, and Anne of Green Gables, I read them all. I was known to bring fourteen paperbacks with me every summer on our fourteen day trip to the beach. I always had a book in hand.
Until I didn’t.
When I started college, I stopped reading for pleasure. I was reading so much for my classes, that I looked for other ways to relax. After college, I transitioned right into teaching and working on my master’s degree. Again I focused on reading for my profession. Then came babies and at first I was…
Just.
So.
Tired.
But I was also missing something in my life. I loved being a stay at home mom. That decision is one I will never regret, but I also found that time of my life to be lonely. I was looking for an escape from reality, from the endless laundry, and diapers, and tantrums (though, sometimes those tantrums were mine!)
Until I didn’t.
When I started college, I stopped reading for pleasure. I was reading so much for my classes, that I looked for other ways to relax. After college, I transitioned right into teaching and working on my master’s degree. Again I focused on reading for my profession. Then came babies and at first I was…
Just.
So.
Tired.
But I was also missing something in my life. I loved being a stay at home mom. That decision is one I will never regret, but I also found that time of my life to be lonely. I was looking for an escape from reality, from the endless laundry, and diapers, and tantrums (though, sometimes those tantrums were mine!)
