Today, I decided to have a big sort out of my wardrobe: some items are heading to the op-shop, others were set aside for an upcoming clothes-swap, and my winter stuff was scurried away for next year. Of course, it has been absolutely hideous weather all day and I'm wondering if I might have been a litttle premature in declaring winter over. Anyway, I made an interesting discovery in the wardrobe: this stack of books.
They cover all things parenting-related and while, they by no means constitute my full collection on the subject, I thought it was telling that I should find them here, tucked away like some dirty stash. I'm not sure why I decided that this was the place to keep them, but it seems a little odd, as if I'm ashamed to own them. Perhaps I don't want others to know that being a mum doesn't come naturally, whatever that may mean. Surely, they should take pride of place somewhere prominent, evidence that I've done all the reading and ahem, know what I'm doing?