My Kindle broke over Christmas. Or rather, David's Kindle, which I had taken over as my own, broke. They were both over four years old, so it wasn't unexpected. Still, I had grown completely attached and was verrrrrry sad upon its demise.
I had not expected to love e-reading as much as I do. Had it not been for my Kindle, however, I would not have read a book a day during the first few weeks of the Wee Boy's life. I remember staying up in three-hour-shifts taking turns holding the baby. Being able to hold a book and turn a page one-handed meant I could actually read and not wake him up with movement or noisy paper. Also, I get carsick when reading books, but for some reason, reading on my Kindle never caused nausea. And having a Kindle means having a thousand books with you at all times ... basically: Me + Kindle = love!
Today I am grappling with replacing it or not. I don't like reading on my phone or iPad (the backlight gives me a headache and/or keeps me awake at night). But I am not sure I am ready to spend the money. I am about to go on a two-week adventure by myself, however, and this might include time to myself ... time to read! Reading before bedtime or in a tea shop in Yorkshire before a gig. I feel like the $79 (or $119 if I splurge on paperwhite) could be better used in, say, the Wee Boy's college fund. Oh, the mama guilt ...
#firstworldproblems , I know. But let me wallow for a bit, won't you?