I was chatting it up with my doctor the other day — my check-up was over and both of us miraculously didn’t have to run anywhere — when she mentioned a historical book she was reading. As she told me about it all I kept thinking was that I couldn’t believe she actually found time to read. She runs a successful medical practice, has three teenage kids, runs and exercises almost every day (yes, we’ve discussed this) and makes it a point to get seven or eight hours of sleep daily (yes, we’ve discussed this too, as part of a kind lecture she gave me to stop thinking that I can survive on five hours of sleep a night). I meant to ask her when she found time to read but the conversation turned to another topic and I didn’t think of it until I’d left.
She is not the first ultra-busy working mom who has surprised me with her ability to find time for books. A friend at work is a voracious reader, who always brings a book on her daily train commute. Another friend is always mentioning this or that book she has read and she has two kids and pretty hectic job. I have to confess that I feel like a total book failure because ever since I became a working mom, the number of books I’ve managed to read has shrunk significantly.
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