I’ve been pretty absent around these parts for the past month. I could claim it’s due to being busy with both work and kids. I could claim it’s the pregnancy nausea sucking the will to live out of me despite ’round-the-clock anti-nausea medication. In part, it is both of those things, but there’s really one big thing to blame.
I started reading again.
My entire life, I have loved to read. Endlessly. After Zoey was born, reading for pleasure quickly fell by the wayside. I was exhausted all the time, breastfeeding hourly all night and all day, working night shifts, and struggling through the haze of trying to heal after my c-section. Before I knew it, I was pregnant again and then once more back in the struggle of taking care of a newborn, this time with a bonus toddler.
It wasn’t until just the past two or three months that I finally got to a place where I can read for pleasure again. It is positively addicting, albeit frustrating when I can’t just read all day and all night to my heart’s content. I find myself lost in the characters – no matter who they are – as I enjoy being transported to a different world for a brief time.
So, needless to say, when I have a few spare minutes I am faced with the dilemma: to blog or to read? Lately, the overwhelming choice has been to read. My apologies, dear blog readers. I haven’t forsaken you. I certainly didn’t mean to leave you with a cliffhanger (Surprise! I’m pregnant! And then radio silence….) I will do my best to return to you soon and frequently. But, just this minute, the final few chapters of the Divergent trilogy are calling to me…