A Love of Reading

I spent a fair amount of my childhood years with my nose firmly planted in an assortment of books. I absorbed them, I inhaled them. Any moment spent not reading was a moment wasted. There was world upon world of marvellous discoveries to be made. Places to escape to, characters to identify with. I had stumbled onto one of my greatest loves

A lifelong obsession had begun.

I devoured all of Roald Dahl, I adored Enid Blyton. Many wistful hours were spent in the whimsical world of Beatrix Potter. I cried through 'Little Women' and cheered through 'Charlotte's Web'.

Many of my childhood adventures were a direct result of the imagination that these books sparked.

As an adult I still spend a fair amount of time in my favourite hobby. When I haven't disappeared into a book myself I'm trying my hardest to get my children involved in one. Mr 10 and I have enjoyed books together for years; ever since I read him Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone when he was 6. We both loved the series and he managed to read it in it's entirety before he was 8. Both of us read The Spiderwick Chronicles and Narnia. Comparing notes at the dinner table. It is one of our (many) similarities, our love of books. It brings us together, our common denominator.

Miss 8 however, was showing little interest. She seemed to far prefer to spend hours outdoors making mud pies and pretending to rescue animals...very worthwhile activities for a young mind to be involved in. But I wondered and I hoped that she too, would become a book worm like her Mother...eventually...when she was ready.

Then slowly, she started. It began with 'The BFG' and then we read 'Harry' together. That was it, she was enthralled. She adored 'The Enchanted Wood' and we cuddled up and absorbed 'Charlotte's Web'. She currently has her head buried in 'Diary of a Wimpy Kid'. Every now and then I detect a giggle coming from the couch she's curled up in as she enjoys the juvenile humour. And I smile secretly to myself. She still makes mud pies in the garden...but now she had a new love to indulge in....and I couldn't be happier.

Check out some other 'Grateful' posts over at Maxabella Loves....

My Young Man.

There is no doubt about it, I'm a very lucky lady. Exceptionally lucky. Extremely lucky.
I have four children. Three of which I carried, gave birth to and have loved and cared for since the day they were conceived. The fourth is a different story. He's not mine. I'm not his Mumma. Sometimes I question myself, what exactly am I trying to be?

Being a Step-Mother has had it's challenges. I'm not going to paint it a rosy-coloured hue because sometimes it has been difficult. Accepting someone else's child as your own has it's ups and downs......beautiful highs.....depressing lows.

Sometimes we fight. We get angry at each other. I sometimes have trouble understanding him and he sometimes has trouble understanding me. At times I sit and wonder, Am I doing this right? Am I completely stuffing this up? Do I actually have a clue?

Where is the guide for wicked Step-Mothers? Isn't there a step by step manual somewhere that God should have handed me when I met his Father?

This morning, I had a good look at this beautiful young man I have known and loved for over seven years. He is caring and well mannered. He looks out for his younger siblings. He is eager to please. He is a good boy....No, he is an exceptional boy. His intelligence radiates. His internal beauty shines.
      His Mother & Father have defied the odds to help shape his remarkable personality together. They have been apart and yet, they have achieved this by working alongside each other, putting him first, setting aside any differences. I would really like to think that I have played a part too. I'm not his Mum. I'm not trying to be.

And I know, I know that despite the fact that he isn't 'mine', despite the fact that at times we're not always going to see eye to eye, I like to think that I have a special place in his life. He certainly has a special place in mine.