Sunday, April 19, 2015

Bibliophilia and Ramblings on a Sick Sunday

I am a bibliophile. There. I said it.  

  This is my "to read" table. And also "the smoke alarm that got ripped down when it went off in the night" table, and "dirty sock pile" table.

I get it honestly, from my mother. One of my brothers has it, too. The other one can only be described as the opposite of whatever bibliophile is. Freak. 

My bibliophileness has been suppressed for the past eight or so years, which coincidentally is the same number of years I have had ankle biters demanding my full on 24 hour attention. 

But now that these ankle biters could be better classified as elbow biters, I find myself with more energy in the evenings, and therefore my bibliophileness has reappeared. 

Hope, the Girl in the Middle, recently asked me, "Why do you spend so much time reading these days?"

I joyously told her, "Because you can make your own toast!!" 

I don't think she made the connection.

Anyways, I am also determined to raise bibliophiles, although I actually think maybe this is something with which you are born. My mother was a teacher and read to us constantly. All three of us shared a room so she would sit at night and read chapters out of all the classics: Anne of Green Gables, Charlotte's Web, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Five Little Peppers and How They Grew, Little Women, The Boxcar Children. She read picture books beyond what a person can count (especially with my limited math skills), and on vacations read from any book by Erma Bombeck (which started this whole blog thing). 

Somehow, two of the three of us picked up her love. We think the other one can actually read, but the theory hasn't been tested since high school when he was required to read Moby Dick. He hasn't been seen with a book since. 

Preston does not have bibliophilia either, seeing as girls used to do his homework in high school (apparently he was a star basketball player), and he one time made up a whole book, author and everything, which he wrote a paper about simply so he wouldn't have to read a book. He got an A. Got to wonder about that teacher.

All of our girls do appear to be little bibliophiles, but will often choose Garfield books or Junie B. Jones, which I cannot really, in good conscience, call books. And then they want to tell me all about Garfield or worse, read it to me. Have you ever had a child read a comic strip to you? Time for a sharpened pencil to the eardrum. 

So for the summer, I am organizing a little book club for the girls and me. I am choosing the books, ones I know they will love, a unique one for each girl, and she will have about two weeks to read it. Then we will go out for ice cream and discuss it, one on one. When we have finished the discussion, I will have their next book, wrapped up, ready to give them. For the Youngest, who is five, I am choosing rich picture books, which her daddy will read to her, and then she and I will go out to discuss it.  

Last week Preston remarked to me, "I'm kind of like your Sugar Daddy, seeing as you aren't working outside the home this semester." (He values his life. He would never say, "not working." Remember this old post?)

Then I broke my $9 sunglasses from Target, my home away from home. He sweetly bought me some new ones exactly like the old ones. For $9. "It's what Sugar Daddies do." he told me. 

Gotta say, I had higher expectations for the day I finally got myself a sugar daddy. Like, jetting off on a private plane to Greece. Sunglasses. Whatever. 

Anyways, I figured out a way to combat his ridiculousness. 

I have a column on the left hand side of this blog where I am keeping track of what I am reading. (If you are looking at this in the mobile view you will have to switch to the full website version. Click at the bottom. Or dust off your desktop.) At first it was just for fun, to see who else has read what I have read or am reading and may strike up a conversation. But now, if you click on a book I have listed it will take you to Amazon. If you buy it, I get a little somethin' somethin'. Interesting, huh? Of course, I really do think you should shop and buy locally if you can, but if you are going to order from Amazon anyways, hook a girl up. 

Books with an asterisk are ones I am either reading to the girls at bedtime (currently In Grandma's Attic) or ones I am considering having them read. They are ages 5, 7, (in ONE WEEK!) and 8, if you are wondering if the books would be good for your kids. 

And please, if you have book suggestions for me or the girls (not Preston), please forward them on. That's always how I find my next great read. 

Grace for Bibliophiles (and I guess all you non-readers as well),
Martha 

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