The write-up below is a direct repeat of the podcast audio for those who prefer to read. Whether you choose to listen or read, the content is the same—so go with what works best for you!
Hey, hey,
Before Aidyn, my now 11-year-old son, left for summer vacation with his father, we snuck in some extra reading time.
We read regularly. But we both knew what was coming: three months apart.
If you’ve been with me a while, you know that school ending and summer approaching puts me in a state I can’t quite explain. Some have called it depression. I say I just slip deeper into my introvert ways and hide from the world.
I’ve always been intentional about our connection. Still, the absence is hard.
Right before he left, I asked him how he felt about our reading time together. I was working on something for the blog, and I was curious.
He said:
“I love it because it just feels good… brings us closer. I know you love me and care about that time.”
That one sentence did something to me 💕. It reminded me why I started all of this.
Then he added:
“But don’t tell my friends I said that.”
And just like that, my corny smile was replaced by laughter 😆.
When Aidyn was younger, we read fervently. Five or six books a day. Almost daily trips to the library. We lived out stories. Saw ourselves in them. Compared characters to his friends at school and family we missed.
But as he got older, something shifted. There came a moment—quiet, but unmistakable—when he didn’t run to the shelves with the same excitement.
No more “Read this one, Mommy!”
And still—he craves story. Still craves the connection that reading brings us.
Because what we do together isn’t just reading.
It never was.
A while ago, I had lunch with a good friend. And as much as I try not to bring up books in every conversation—somehow, it always goes there. (& I love that!)
She shared that she reads to her kids— but it didn’t feel how she wanted it to feel.
She said it often felt rushed. Tense. Like something to check off the list.
She wasn’t sure if she was doing it right.
She felt the pressure most parents feel. To hit the right number of minutes. To follow the script.
She said she kept thinking,
“If Quinn were here, she’d probably just say: Just read.”
And she was right. I would say that.
But not the way most people mean it.
Not in a “read more books” kind of way.
Not with the pressure to perform.
She joined a challenge I ran and downloaded my $27 private podcast—Every Parent Reads Aloud. Few Do This.
And that’s when something shifted.
She sent me a message:
“Those prompts were so beneficial. They made me stop and ask—what kind of moment am I actually trying to create for them today?
Not just the work of learning to read or reading to say I did it… but something deeper.”
That message was everything. I could have cried!
Because that is it.
That’s the shift.
That’s the moment so many families are missing—not because they don’t care, but because no one ever showed them a different way.
Most families are reading together.
But they’ve been handed the wrong map.
They’re following directions built for compliance, not connection.
Performance, not presence.
Skill-building, not soul-tending.
And I realized I had to give name to what was actually happening.
Not just the feeling.
The practice.
It’s called Engaged Shared Reading.
It’s not a parenting style or a school strategy. It’s a whole new way of being with each other through books.
It doesn’t ask you to read more. It asks you to read differently.
Not to finish. But to feel.
Not to test. But to tune in.
Not to perform. But to pause.
It’s quiet. Intentional. Built for the moments that matter.
And if you've ever had a child lean in, ask again, or quietly smile in the middle of a page—you've already felt it. You just may not know how to create those moments intentionally, or how to use books to tap into what your family needs that particular day.
You just didn’t have a name for it.
Now you do.
This is Engaged Shared Reading.
And this is the work of Reading To Connect.
You’re not just reading anymore.
You’re connecting.
And connection—real, lasting, soul-deep connection—is what changes everything.
Thank you for being here.
My best,
Quinn 📚💕
P.S.
If this resonates—if you've felt a hint of that deeper connection during reading time but never had words for it—I wrote something for you.
This is what we've been building. Together.
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