Last week's WMMH was supplanted by a coffeehouse, so again, I have a fortnight worth of good things to meditate upon. ("Fortnight" is a word we Yanks never should have lost.) This whole holiday season, starting Christmas day, was pretty great. Up until Christmas morning I was a puddle of stress, but I slowly began to feel my cortisol levels subsiding to normal as the kids began unwrapping their gifts.We settled into a few days of doing not much more than binge-reading all the books we got each other. Both my kids have been reading nearly a book a day. My teenager's favorite was this:
|In which teenagers save the world|
My son, 12, has been chewing through this series:
He is a reluctant reader, which, as you can imagine, has caused me some heartburn. Like most young males he prefers his entertainment in the following order: video games -> YouTube -> movies/television -> books. (I mean, his passive entertainment. He also likes to run around and do stuff.) So I was very happy to come across a series he seems unable to put down, and which doesn't have "Diary of" in its title. I'm not someone who thinks books are inherently superior to all other storytelling forms, but I do want him in a reading habit, because I think books are necessary and beneficial.
Meanwhile, my husband inhaled this book, so fascinated by bits of it that he'd put it down and tell me about it, lucky me:
|The Great War and the Birth of the Modern Age|
So that's it, basically: books. And time with my family. All of us cuddled up on the same couch, warm doggie at our feet, occasionally reading passages aloud to each other. Happy.