Bookworm

Reading.

It's both one of my talents and my great Waterloo. How can something be a strength and a weakness all at the same time? I guess it's all where you let it lead you.

First, the strength part-- I am a reader on a level that few people ever get to-- or want to even. I can read quickly and actually remember in great detail what I read. On Saturday I checked out the fourth Fablehaven book (fantastic series, by the way!), which is about 530 pages long. I finished it in probably about four hours of reading, in time for me to actually go to bed at a relatively normal hour Saturday night. I even managed to get my kids fed dinner and bathed and into bed during that time. I can read while washing dishes, folding laundry, and I have even read while doing workout videos (during the warm up before I had to get my arms moving). It's a great blessing when it comes to things like preparing a lesson on short notice because I can read all the material I might need very quickly and remember the important parts.

But it's a weakness, as well. I cannot put a book down. At least if it is at all in any way interesting. Even if I've read it before. Even if I've read it a half dozen times before. And heaven help the kids or Terence if they want my attention or try to talk to me when I am reading something new and engrossing. They are likely to get their heads bitten off. Though I have tried repeatedly to break the habit, I have tied reading to eating so strongly that I almost have to eat while I'm reading and vice versa. The worst part is the effect reading something can have on my mood. I was reading all the blogs I follow last night and something I read sent me into a tailspin about my parenting foibles. Terence listened to me bemoan my miserable pathetic excuse for mothering for awhile before observing that I'm like a manic depressive, and my triggers seem to be what I read. Either I'm flying sky high or I'm groveling in the dumps.

A manic depressive!!! I thought that was a little extreme, but he does have a point. Whether I'm reading a blog, a news post, my scriptures, someone's family newsletter, a novel, or just the latest weather alert, either I can end up energetic and enthusiastic or I can end up ruminating all day long on the miseries of existence.

Last night I made the worst of all choices-- picking up a new (to me) Orson Scott Card novel when I went to take a bath. Like all of Orson Scott Card's work it was thought-provoking and interesting-- but also like some of his work it was disturbing and depressing and probably something I should have skipped. But like that addict I am, I could not put it down and I did not finish until 2:30am.

I was supposed to get up at 4:30am. For that lifesaving jog, you know. So much for that. At least I made it out of bed in time to have a short session with my scriptures before I got the kids up for school. Now I just need to survive my day somehow. Maybe I can fit in the jog later.

But in the long run, what to do about the reading . . . can I make into a full-fledged strength? How can I still foster my love for reading without letting it dictate my mood? Or take over my life?