Postpartum Literacy

I tried to read a book today. It was the first book I have cracked since our honeymoon. As a child, I spent more time reading than anything else. Especially when my parents were home and I couldn't watch TV. On the weekends, I would sit on the couch with a pile of books and be done with them by Sunday night. Reading was a huge part of what made me who I am today. Since I am have been fairly successful with the writing, I decided to be bold and try reading.

My dear cousin Noel gave me a wonderful book for Christmas. It is called The Middle Place and is written by Kelly Corrigan, a 36 year old woman with two young children. She is a cancer survivor. She comes from a strong, loving family and is trying to figure out how to transition from being a loved daughter to a loving parent. She uses cancer as the turning point. Her writing is funny, compelling and evokes laughter and sadness on every page. In some ways I feel like I can stop writing now because she has already written my book.

I have been completely addicted to the book since the first page. I try to sneak in a few pages every moment I can. I read during Dora. I read during Diego. I read when they are playing blocks and coloring. Most of the day, I didn't get a few sentences in before someone was crying or needed help or was trying to jump off the coffee table. But I was happy with however many sentences I could get in. I'd just mark my place, be a mom for a few seconds, and return to my book.

At a particular good point in the book, things started to unravel. Josie and Owen were playing a few feet from me, laughing and taking turns smacking each other in the chest. But Kelly was on the phone telling her dad she had cancer. I couldn't stop now. Josie is a tom boy and Owen hasn't realized his strength yet. They'll be okay I thought. I continued reading and they continued their roughhousing. After Kelly hung up with her dad, I looked up from the page with tears in my eyes and saw Owen giving Josie a bear hug from the back. So sweet I thought. I turned my eyes back to the pages, and Owen took this as his cue. He bit Josie on the back. She screamed, "No biting!" and tried to push him off. They both tipped forward. Josie's chin cushioned the fall as she crashed into the coffee table.

Josie was wailing. Owen looked at me with wide eyes. I immediately picked Josie up and surveyed for blood on her chin or in her mouth. No ER trip today. Owen stood up and tried to push Josie out of my arms. After all, he had fallen too. I yelled at him to go to the corner and sit down. He obliged but not before he placed his chubby hand on the book I was reading and pushed it across the table and on to the floor. As he walked towards the corner he looked back at me as if to say, "you played your part in this."

This is not the first time I have failed as a parent because I wasn't being vigilant enough. But usually it was because I was doing things like laundry, bed making, dish washing or snack preparation. This time I felt really guilty. I realized that reading is a very selfish act. And being a mom is a very selfless act. Like anything else there is a balance that can be reached, but it will be an adjustment and a learning experience, for all of us.

Kids are asleep. Husband is at a work dinner. I'm like a kid on a couch with a pile of books all over again.