An embarrassing secret.
John and I have literally been reading with flash lights since Jules was born. I would like to say that I'm proud that we're reading at all, given that we have an eight-month old, full-time jobs, two real estate ventures, and a genuine interest in each other; but all of that pride comes to a screeching halt when I mention the flash lights. Well-- to be precise-- they are actually clip-on flash lights that hook onto our books, so that we can read without turning on too bright of a light, for fear of waking up Julian. Because although he sleeps in a separate room, it is essentially a fish bowl, and the window between our room and his leaks A LOT of light, despite my grand planning with black out curtains and roller shades. A good plan, but not an exact science, and after the first 4-month of post-traumatic-sleep-drama (YES, we are suffering from PTSD at our house) we were both left a little overly cautious about the prospect of waking Julian up unnecessarily.
Well, enough is enough. We've graduated from clippy-lights to sconces, and I couldn't be happier. I've actually had these vintage sconces for ages-- purchased from (guess where) Craig's List eons ago, but they've been sitting in our building's basement gathering dust, waiting for the perfect application. And VOILA! I finally figured out what I wanted to do with them, and got to work making it happen.
Small victories, people. Small victories.