You all know I love books right?
And I particularly love sharing my passion for reading with the little people in my life.
Every night I read with my boys – it’s one of my favourite shared experiences with them. That, and spending time in their school classrooms as they and their little friends learn to dance with new words and fall in love with storytelling for the first time.
But here’s the thing. Every year, when #bookweek rolls around, I am filled with a foreboding dread.
It’s an inner turmoil that makes me feel like an imposter – a traitor to the industry of words I work in…
How can you possibly love books as much as I do, but dread book week like the plague?
Do you know book week is the only time of year I question my judgment in the number of children we chose to have? Three costumes god damn it!
It’s the ‘crafting’ aspect that undoes me. I’m certain there’s an area in the brain reserved for this coveted skill – but I sure as hell don’t have it.
And there-in lies my unravelling. I find myself spending hours upon hours of precious time I don’t have slaving away to recreate fictional storybook characters that are way beyond my skill set, but would take anyone else five minutes to master. In my mind’s eye they look amazing, but the end product is always a truly sobering experience.
I know the simple solution to my #bookweekanxiety is to swallow my book pride and let my kids rock up on parade day in their store bought superhero costumes that, let’s be honest, have very little to do with books – but it’s hard. To a book nerd like me that’s akin to selling my soul!
So as the curtain falls on another year of book week tears, tantrums and parades, kudos to all the creative (and not so creative) hearts out there for pulling off some big costume magic this week – you all totally rock!
And if it’s not too much to ask, would you mind popping any masterpieces away in storage to lend me next year?
Much appreciated.
x Lee
#spreadingthegoodstuff
#bookweek
#thestruggleisreal