The Story of My Life

Many of you have wondered where my "Rinda's Reads" reading lists have disappeared to. Unless you count rereading the Hunger Games and Harry Potter series in their entirety (entireties?), I haven't gotten a chance to read anything new or worthwhile since November (ten months ago, if you catch my drift). Something has been missing in my life.

I had twenty LOVELY minutes today where I got that something back. My wonderful, thoughtful husband got me a new book for my birthday. Not just any book, though--he wanted to make sure it was something I haven't read and would love. So what did he do? Texted the husband of one of my bestest friends and said, "I want to get Rinda a book for her birthday. Does your wife have any ideas?" And because his wife is one of my bosom book buddies/kindred spirits, she knew exactly what I had read and what I hadn't and what books I'd already read and wanted to own. That's a good friend.

Anyway, I got a new book for my birthday (in July. Like five weeks ago.) Remembering all the wonderful hours I spent reading while pumping, feeding, and cuddling my newborn Kevin, I decided to save said book until after Sly arrived. I picked it up in the hospital and read about a chapter. Since then I've read 1.5-5 pages a day (which, for me, is not much). Usually this is a sign that I dislike a book. After three weeks I would have given up on a book at this rate...but the thing is, I knew this book was excellent. I treasured the few pages I snuck in here and there as I pump what little remains of my sad, sad milk supply in an effort to avoid mastitis.

And today, after I'd taken my unhappy little baby to the doctor for fourth time in three weeks (seriously, I don't think we've gone a single week this whole year without visiting a doctor's office!) and spent several minutes praying for the patience to appreciate my creative, chatty, beautiful daughter, a miracle happened.

She went to sleep.

He went to sleep, all cuddled up on me.

AND I GOT TO READ. Something that wasn't Curious George or the Berenstein Bears.

For more than one page.

For like fifty pages.

And suddenly, it seemed that life could be beautiful again.

And, as so often happens in truly good books, I came across a piece of genuine wisdom that perfectly sums up my life at the moment.

"Life does often get in the way of one's reading," agreed the Major.

Thank you, Major Pettigrew.

So there's your answer, folks. Life has gotten in the way of Rinda's Reading.

But if you want to read a book that I am quickly falling in love with, even though I'm only halfway through it, pick up Major Pettigrew's Last Stand from your local library. Never have you loved a 68-year-old widower/retired military Englishman so very much.