Lately, life has felt a little busier than usual – full days, tired nights, and not nearly enough time spent between the pages of a good book.

The evenings are getting shorter, winter is coming and the days seem to only get faster and fuller. Between school drop-offs, kids’ activities, winter prep and the ongoing rhythm of basic everyday chores, I feel like I haven’t had a moment to just be still. And by the time the house finally settles for the night and I’m holding a warm mug between my hands, I realize how much I need to get lost in a good story again.

Reading has always been one of my favorite ways to slow down. To breathe. To have that “me time” everyone says mothers need – but in a way that feels real and grounding. When I read, I step into another world and somehow find myself again. But lately, every time I sit down with my book, my mind just … doesn’t follow. It keeps running.

I’ve been a distracted reader these days.

Currently, I’m reading – or attempting to read – Older by Jennifer Hartmann. Just like the last book I picked up, I’m having trouble getting hooked. I want to be into it. I’m curious, and I have that constant “what happens next?” flicker in the back of my mind – the thing that usually keeps me flying through chapters in a day or two. But this time, it’s like the story hasn’t quite found its way into my hands yet.

If I’m being honest, I couldn’t tell you one thing I love about it so far. That sounds harsh – and I don’t mean it to be. I’m still holding out hope that I I’ll hit that moment where everything clicks and I get pulled in. I’m not someone who abandons books easily. Even if I don’t love it, I have to know how it ends.

But life has been pulling me in a dozen different directions, and lately I find myself reading three pages, realizing my mind has wandered somewhere else, and having to start over. You know that feeling?

And I think maybe – this book just doesn’t match the season I’m in. I’m such an ambience reader. The book I’m reading has to fit – the mood, the lighting, the drink in my mug, the blanket I’m curled up in. I want my coffee mug to match the book cover, and yes, I care about that.

Which is why I think it may be time for something different. Or maybe … a series.

Here’s the thing – I’m craving a good romance. A story with longing. Connection. Slow-burn tension. Softness. Maybe a little ache. The kind of story that makes your chest tighten and your stomach drop in the best way.

I found myself eyeing the Rose Hill Series by Elsie Silver. Small town. Emotional. Love you can feel.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Sometimes I joke that I’m a hopeless romantic, but truthfully? I am. I love love. I love when a story makes me smile like an idiot or sit there rooting for two fictional people to finally figure it out.I love when a book feels hopeful.

I’m craving that full-body pull into a story – where the world falls away and suddenly you’ve read 80 pages without noticing. I’m hoping this series is the warm, heart-filled reset I need.

Reading, I’ve realized, is a lot like life – it comes in waves. Sometimes season, I devour book after book without stopping to breathe. And others, I move slowly, rereading sentences and trying to stay present.

Both season are okay.

Books are patient. Stories wait for us. Characters don’t get tired of sitting on our nightstands. So for now, I’m reading when I can:

A few pages in the evening.

A chapter while dinner cooks.

A paragraph while the kids play.

It counts. It all counts.

I have to remind myself – it’s not about how many books I finish. It’s about the moments where I find myself again inside the story.

I may not be flying through books right now, but I know that chapter will return. Maybe it’ll start with Elsie Silver and her small-town romances. Maybe it’ll start when Older finally hooks its fingers into me. Maybe it’ll start tonight, with a blanket, a warm mug, and a quiet house.

Either way — I’m still showing up to the page.
Slowly. Softly.
With love.

Because even in the busiest seasons, stories still find us.

And I can feel one finding me again.
Page by page.
Sip by sip.

Also – if you’ve read something recently that made your heart feel full, I’d love to hear about it!