In January I set myself a goal to read 150 books. Really ambitious, right? Especially considering I have a job (I’m lucky, I get to work from home), two children (one with special needs), a home, a husband (he should come further up on the list, and he does in my heart, but there are somethings that don’t care what I love, they just want what they want. Like my job, and my house, and kids . . .), activities, homework, working out, and this wonderful blog. But somehow, this year, I have read almost 107 books (I will finish number 107 today), which leaves me 8% behind where I should be to reach my goal (thank you Goodreads for setting up that wonderful counter to keep me on track, I say with disdain dripping from my voice).
107 isn’t bad. Some may say I cheated to get to this point; I listened to books, I read a few Kindle Singles, which counted on Goodreads as a book. I would love to only read, but I have to make a living and get my kids to where they need to be and make sure they’re doing what they’re supposed to do. And I do have a social life, so I sometimes talk to people when I should be reading (GASP!!). I sometimes drink wine instead of read, or watch a movie, or just hang with the family. But I do read a lot of those times, too. Because reading is a wonderful way to get through a swim meet, or a swim practice, or a family movie that you just cannot watch (any Barbie movie, for instance) but you want to seem like you’re watching.
So, I keep plugging along. And I try to fill you in on the books I enjoyed on my journey, and some that I hated, and some that I haven’t read that I want to read.