Reading on borrowed time

It has been a while since I last wrote here. In that time, life has expanded in the most miraculous (and chaotic) way: babies. With a tiny months old baby and a delightful toddler whose energy and curiosity never run out. Between feedings, nappy changes, and endless rounds of “why?” questions, I’ve discovered that "my time" is no longer mine to manage, but theirs to gift me in scraps.

And yet, in those borrowed scraps of time, I still reach for books. Not as often, not as deeply as before—but enough to remind myself that the part of me who loved getting lost in stories still exists.

Here’s what my reading life looks like these days:

Bite reads: I’ve learned the art of dipping into books in the oddest moments—standing in the kitchen waiting for a bottle to cool, or sneaking a page while one child naps on me and the other builds a Lego tower. I used to devour chapters in one sitting; now I nibble, and somehow, even that feels satisfying. I did this kind of reading once before, in the year that I read 51 books. If not for stealing bits of time all day, I wouldn't have found it possible.

Baby & toddler books: I've been introduced to a whole new world. I find myself reading them with equal excitement. They aren’t just for the little ones—they’ve become a kind of anchor, reminding me that stories can be short, sweet, and still meaningful. Some thoughtful, some cheeky and some simply nostalgic, children's books are truly amazing! My toddler's library card has clocked more than 200 books! 

Books for me (slowly): On my bookshelf sits a small, hopeful pile: Cloud Atlas, The Stone Sky, Ariadne. Progress is slow, but it’s progress. And I’ve stopped measuring myself by how many books I finish in a year; now I measure by how much comfort a few pages can give me, a few moments where I'm transported away from this chaos and into a magical world. There's also my newfound love for audio books that I get to munch on when I'm washing baby bottles or walking the pram.

My list of books to read still grows faster than my babies. New releases and buzzy recommendations. I may never get to them but I like to imagine a future where I’ll read them, maybe even aloud to two sleepy children.

Motherhood has changed my reading, but it hasn’t erased it. While I may not be writing annual reading wrap-ups with neat lists and tall stacks, I’m still here—reading, slowly, lovingly, in borrowed time.

PS: full disclosure that this blogpost has been written with the help of chatgpt, but I do believe it stays quite close to character.