My Brother was right.

When Henry was born my brother Busydad told me that I'd not be doing very much reading from now on.
I bumped into a parent at the eye doctor's the other day who told me that she didn't read for two years after the birth of her kids. She told me that this had really upset her.
Since the boy arrived on the scene I've changed masses of diapers, been on some cool father and son strolls, fed him a few bottles, got scared by his crying once or twice but have actually read very little. Perhaps a page a week. Henry is now almost sleeping through the night and is a delightful baby, the truth is that I no longer need to read to get to sleep at the end of the day, I'm already exhausted. I did read a bit on the trip to Blighty last week, much of that was British newspapers which I adore but of course I went and left the book I was halfway through at my parent's house. By the time they send it over here I'll have lost the impetus.

I'm not yet too upset by this, I've been reading like a crazy dude on fire for the last three or four years, Maybe it's time to get my head out of a book, wait for the right one to come along. I've just taken the first of the Lord of the Rings trilogy out of the school library. I think it might take a while.