Friday, November 12, 2010

I May Have a Problem


I'm addicted.

My daughter came home from school today and announced, "Mama! My teacher sent home magazines from the book fair!"

In plain English, that meant she brought home Scholastic catalogs. Four of them, to be precise. I have a hunch that if the second-grade teacher had been able to catch her in the hall before she came home, there would have been more.

I am a book slut. I'll sell my body, mind, and soul for a good book. I'm currently working my way through Caesar's "Gallic Wars." I have three more library books lined up on the coffee table, two nonfiction, one fiction, just waiting to be read. The kids and I have a running average of 20+ books checked out from the library, and I'm constantly requesting more.

We don't have a big house. In fact, there is only one bathroom among the four of us. That we can manage to share. However, we have five bookcases. One for homeschool curriculum, one for books the kids share, and one in each of the three bedrooms. We share books, but it's a jealous process.

I have a method to ordering books these days, because yes, I am that mom who can't see a Scholastic catalog without going, "Ooooooooooo boooooooks...." and ordering something. Or 12 somethings. The teachers love me. My method goes something like this:

Step 1: Go through everything with a blue highlighter (this would be the one I hurled at the cats last night) and circle everything I MIGHT even POSSIBLY want. Someday.

Step 2: Add it all up and have a heart attack.

Step 3: Go back through everything with a red pen and re-circle everything that the kids specifically requested or that will actually be useful in the coming months, because it's not like more catalogs won't come home in late January, just in time for Valentine's Day.

Step 4: Add it all up and experience palpitations instead of a heart attack.

Step 5: Narrow it all down one more time to a financially manageable level, get on the web site, and place the order.

Step 6: Somehow still managed to be surprised 2-3 weeks later when the books arrive and the girl has to have help hauling her backpack out the door of the classroom because there is roughly the cargo of a U-Haul stuffed in there.

Step 7: Read.

Ahhh, bliss. It is all worth it in the end, isn't it??

Even if my husband hesitates to give me free rein at Borders.

It's safer for our budget that way.

1 comment:

Christy said...

Oh, I am the same way with those book orders. I LOVE them...I live for them, I go CRAZY for them. And I order like an addict...on the sly...late at night...where no one can see...until random books arrive and the wee girl SHOWS THEM TO HER FATHER...who in turn gives me "the look". But I cannot help it...I LOVE them.