One day, I’m going to be a “library mom”.

You know the kind. The moms that make biweekly trips to the library. The ones that bring books back on time without any ripped pages or crayon drawings. The moms who don’t rush their kids to “hurry and choose your books before we leave in 5 minutes” but allow them time to soak in the muted sounds and drink in the hums and energies of the stories.

I would love to be this kind of mom. My own mom took myself and my sisters regularly. I can remember so much. My library card number was memorized for years. The echo of the foyer. The softspoken gossip between the employees behind the reference desk. The disappointment of realizing Nancy Drew vol. 14 had already been checked out. The feeling of a live scorpion in my hands at story time. Browsing the nonfiction section for information on Aruba. And, of course, that one time I took being a detective TOO seriously as I stealthily followed a librarian shelving books from her cart around the building and coming face to face with a giant book boldly titled S – E – X with some nakey people doing nakey things on its cover. (I stayed away from stalking librarians, and the adult fiction section in general, after that.) So many good memories, just because my mom made an effort to take her kids to the library. I want this for my own babies!

We’re not there yet. Right now, our family library ventures are fairly sporadic, usually prompted by the third email delivering subject lines bearing: YOUR FINAL OVERDUE WARNING. Don’t get me wrong, we all love to read around here. I personally go at least once a week as a comfort routine after visiting my therapist. But my trips are made by myself. Because my darling crotch goblins tend to threaten the holy tranquility the library provides:

Not featured: When I held my two misbehaving boys in my lap while my eldest hurriedly picked out her storybooks. The boys didn’t get to choose books on account of their behavior during that library visit. That was a tough and sad afternoon!

But on the days that we practice our library etiquette, we make a getaway with a large haul, almost guaranteed to remain at our house well after the due dates.

The rides home are always so quiet with the children lost in imagination. Their somber attitudes crack me up 🙂

Yep, one day we’re going to figure out this “library mom” routine. 🙂