Confession

I am a bibliophile.  I love books.  I love buying books.  I love holding books.  I love reading books.  I have my favorite authors: Louisa May Alcott, Jane Austen, Margaret Peterson Haddix, Brandon Mull, Nicholas Sparks, Elizabeth Gaskell, to name a few.  I could spend all day reading.  I have done that, on many occasions.  It's harder to do, with three little kiddos.  I've done it, it's just harder.  "Burning the midnight oil" is frequently done.  Books are my friends.

When I was first married, with no kiddos, DH humored me, letting me turn our dining room into a library (we had an eat in kitchen, so we never would have used the dining room).  It was fabulous!  3 moves and 3 kiddos later, a library just isn't feasible.  So, what am I going to do with all of my books?  As I go through the boxes, I'm re-aquainted with so many friends, that I just can't let any of them go.  But I don't have anywhere to put them.  I love my kiddos, but they're not always as careful around the printed word as I would like.  Don't get me wrong, I'm in the process of bibliophile training, and none of them would willfully tear a book (even N, and she's in a phase of tearing and cutting and folding like nobody ever told me about.  Is it normal 3 year old behavior?).  But accidents happen, so I'm not going to move my library into the family room.  Without a designated library, though, what am I to do with them?  I already know the answer.  Leave them packed in boxes.  Stored for the next time we move.  How sad!  My poor friends!