It might be time for an intervention
You see, we are a book family. We LOVE books. We spend hours at the library, at book stores and reading everything we can. We have books scattered about the house, in various stages of being read. Reading logs, sent home from school, are virtually useless for our kids. They end up wasting time trying to figure out what they've read (as in, how many pages/how much time) rather than spending more time reading.
They even read in the car and any trip out requires a minimum of two books per girl (my rule: they have to carry them). You can offer a fabulous lunch out for two with either girl and your conversation will likely consist of only your own words. You will talk to yourself while you stare at the spine of the latest book she is reading.
I'm okay with all of that. I'm happy to explain to the teacher if Kelsey's reading log looks sparse (she fills it in, but it's clearly a down and dirty fill in just to have it finished), that no, really, she spends 2-3 hours a day reading, sometimes more. I'm happy to stare at the spine of a book when taking Cait out, because her reading has expanded her interests so very much (mythology nut, much?). The only time we all truly put our books down is at home for dinner. Of course, since Nicholas is often busy showing us his 'new moves', this is not difficult. No one wants to miss the Mister's dinner show! However, I realized last week just how many books we have, even with our frequent trips to the library (translation: not buying many books).
I finally realized that I could no longer stand the cheap Ikea bookcases in the living room. I came up with a grand plan to move two downstairs and really get our books and scrapbooks organized. We don't have many knick-knacks and those we do were mostly owned by my mother. So, I'll set those aside until I find a special display case.
Since I was no longer trying to artfully arrange things, I realized that we had plenty of space for our books on those two shelves (not the kids' stuff, just ours). I then offered that Cait could have the third bookcase for the time being. It's not gorgeous, but combined with her other shelf, would get books off the floor and out of boxes. I figured then I could measure the space needed for her books and eventually find a really sturdy solid wood bookcase. Peter lugged the thing upstairs and as this case was larger than her other one, she decided it would do and asked Pete to move the old one out.
He told her maybe the next day, as he nearly broke his back getting it up the stairs. I eyeballed the books and the shelves and asked her to at least fill up the new case and see if she had any books left over...then perhaps she could keep the other bookcase and have room for knick-knacks and photos.
I left for an evening out and an hour later received a text with a photo like this one:
Yes, both bookcases were completely filled to the brim. My head is trying not to spin and calculate just how much weight that will be for our next move (knowing she will likely add books). I'm not thinking of mounds of paper and boxes and then the bookcases needed to shelve them at said post...no, I'm thinking it's time for an intervention, in the name of a:
I know, fat chance, but it's worth a shot...right?