Lost in a Good Book

I just finished the perfect book.  I laughed (lots).  I cried (loads).  I became much too involved.  I was careful to not inhale it and tried to relish it over a few days.  I saved it as a reward for accomplishing the mundane routines that make up my life.  First I will read scriptures.  Then I will exercise.  Can I read yet?  Oh, the breakfast dishes are still out.  Take care of that.  Dang, I should probably vacuum.  Baby wants to nurse?  Well, what do you know?  I could read while I do that.  Five minutes after he's done, reluctantly set aside book.  I should make lunch.  Read a little in the afternoon.  Can't read at the pool.  Those days are suspended until baby can swim.  After kids are in bed stay up a little late.  With great willpower, carefully mark place, go to bed.  Can't sleep because thinking about characters.  Start dreaming about book.  Now it is over.  Deep sigh.  One theme was the hand of God in our lives which my close friends will know is a favorite conversation topic.  I really didn't like the ending, but I feel like there was room there for me to be able to change it in my head.  (One can do that with most books.  Well, perhaps not a Shakesperean tragedy, but even those I still hope.  "Come on, Juliet!   Wake up, wake up, wake up!)  Of course, the rest of it I loved and there were certain things about the main character that were just so true and right.  The author, Shannon Hale (my hero), said things like: (I cannot quote it exactly because even though I finished the book approximately one hour ago, a friend has already borrowed it and whisked it out of my house.  I was hesitant, but couldn't think of a rational reason I shouldn't let it out of my possession) "I looked over at my kids playing together so nicely and it was like chocolate on my tongue that doesn't melt."  Okay, I probably completely boshed that and now I've got poor Shannon squirming.  I shouldn't have put it in quotes it was so unworthy.  But you get the idea.  I can feel what she is saying.  I have felt that way, but to me it was indescribable.  I remember that giddy feeling when my two oldest were little and I would put them to bed, but hear them giggling together behind closed doors.  The euphoria fills you.   Or when I look at my oldest boy and can practically bask in the glow of his vast potential?  Those glimpses of eternity ~ of pure happiness ~ stun me.  My younger girls left cards on my pillow Sunday afternoon that say "To Mommy the Great"  and baby, ooh, he looks at me with such adoration it leaves me breathless (and him slightly mauled, but we know those days are numbered).  I seemed to have veered away from my topic of book and what are we left with?  The certainty that I am one lucky girl.

Back to summer.  Love having everyone ricocheting around me like pinballs.  Someone has pulled the lever back and off we gooooo....