It's a rare night when I go to sleep without reading at least a few pages in a book.
Reading in bed is a part of my bedtime routine. After prepping my face, brushing my teeth, and tossing back the covers, I crawl into bed with whatever book I'm reading.
I always lay on my stomach, prop my chin on my pillow, and toss the blanket up nearly over my head. This creates a cozy cocoon that is perfect for reading - particularly in the winter. Only my hands and forearms stick out as I hold the book and turn the pages.
Some nights I am able to read 50 pages. Other nights, I get only 5 to 10 pages into a book before my eyes shut and I pass out. First, I notice that I'm blinking a lot. Then, I realize that my head is bobbing and I've read the same paragraph several times. Finally, my eyes shut and I acknowledge to myself that I'm falling asleep.
Sometimes, I am able to rouse myself enough to close my book and settle back to sleep. Many nights, it's my husband who finds me asleep. Somehow, my hands always keep the book open, saving my spot. My husband is used to coming into our room, taking off my glasses, putting a bookmark where I stopped, and placing everything on my nightstand before he turns out the light. It's routine at this point.
I find that if I don't fall asleep reading, I won't have as restful a night. There is something about reading myself into slumber that leads to better rest. It helps turn my brain off for the day and disconnect from whatever may be stressing me out.
These last few moments in bed are something I look forward to every night. They are just for me. Even when the book I am reading is decidedly bad, I still need to read a few pages in order to sleep well. Reading is bed is a simple pleasure, but it's one that brings me great joy and equilibrium.