The books on my bedside table have threatened to topple over on me and crush my pretty little head while I sleep. It isn't that these books are mean. Some are quite nice, in fact. It is just the sheer volume of books on my bedside table rivals the stacks of books the nerds used to carry down the hallways in high school. Not that I was one of those nerds.
But I digress.
There is a mountain of material, a load of literature, a plethora of paperbacks. There are books on how to be a better wife, how to be a better mother, how to be healthier. Books on how to be more financially responsible and how to organize my house. There is fiction for book club, and parenting magazines galor. There is the book for this upcoming year of MOPS. My Bible sits on my nightstand. I bought it for my Bible study because I am pretty sure my other one is packed into one of the boxes of books in the attic. It is orange and pink and really much prettier than my old Bible. Sadly, it has hardly been touched. In addition to all my reading material, there is a stack of books that my better half (because, really, truly, he is!) reads to the Chickie each night. For some reason, he has a hard time returning these books to her bookshelf in the playroom. There they sit until I wander in to change into my jammies. I sigh and pick them up and return them to their rightful place. Every. Single. Night. These are in addition to the ten or so books in the library tote which sits between my bed and nightstand. Because no matter how many new, cool books we get from the library, the tried and true books we own are read every night.
This might bother me, if I were a different sort of person. But I love books. I love to read. I prefer a good book to a good movie and reading to watching TV. I am a mommy to a 16 month old though, so my reading time is limited. Which likely accounts for the massive amounts of reading material precariously perched just inches from my head every evening. If a book were to make it to the book shelves, it would be forgotten and buried until, by some strange chance I had nothing to read. In which case I would wander over and be re-introduced to my long lost friend. It should be noted that I have never before in my life been reading so many different books at once. I used to be more of a one-book-at-a-time sort of gal. This, like so many other aspects of my life, has changed since becoming a mommy.