Finding Our Rhythm Again

If you’ve noticed things have been a little quieter around here lately, you’re not wrong. Life, in all its fullness, has a way of pulling us into seasons of stillness. Not because we’ve lost our spark, but because we’ve needed to tend to it.

Over the past several months, I’ve been pouring my heart into a few big things — finishing my first children’s book, homeschooling our crew, juggling work, and trying to remember the woman I was before all the to-do lists and lesson plans. Somewhere between diapers, deadlines, and dance classes, I realized how much I needed to breathe again and to find a little bit of me in the middle of it all.

So we pressed pause.

We’ve spent more time as a family taking short trips, soaking in sunsets, chasing new experiences, and letting laughter fill the quiet spaces. There’s been less “doing” and more being. Fewer checkboxes, more conversations around the dinner table, and car rides that turned into sing-alongs. In all of it, I’ve been reminded that homeschooling isn’t just about academics, it’s about raising whole humans who love learning, life, and each other.

We started this school year strong, or at least I thought we did. I was head-over-heels for the curriculum we chose. It was rich, beautiful, and exactly the kind of learning I always dreamed of providing. The problem? I loved it a whole lot more than my kids did.

Before long, what was supposed to be inspiring started to feel heavy. I could see it in their little faces, the spark dimming, the joy fading. After a lot of prayer, reflection, and heart-searching, we made a change. And you know what? It’s been a breath of fresh air.

The new rhythm feels lighter. There’s laughter again, curiosity again. Our days aren’t perfect (whose are?), but they feel alive, and that, to me, is everything.

I’d be lying if I said the world outside our walls hasn’t weighed on my heart. The violence, the anger, the division, it’s impossible not to feel it. As a mother, it breaks me to think of the kind of world our children are growing up in.

But it also reminds me why we chose this path, to raise our kids anchored in love, faith, and empathy. To teach them to see the beauty in people, to speak truth with kindness, and to be light in dark places. Homeschooling gives us the space to have hard conversations, to nurture wonder alongside wisdom, and to remind them daily that goodness still exists, right here at our kitchen table.

So, if you’ve missed hearing from me, please know, I’ve missed you too. But this little season of quiet has been sacred. It’s been full of growth, grace, and a gentle reminder that even when life slows, we’re still learning, maybe the most important lessons of all.

We’re finding our rhythm again, and I can’t wait to share what’s next.