My Toxic Trait (And the Beautiful Mess of Homeschooling)

My toxic trait?

I love my kids so much that I don’t want anyone else to watch them…

But I also desperately want a break.

I crave total silence for 24 hours…

But I want to be with them every single second.

I want to raise strong, independent kids…

But also keep them in my lap forever.

It’s a paradox only a mama heart can understand.

This season of our life has been full of those contradictions. Full of stretching and growing and redefining what balance looks like when your world revolves around little people and their big emotions. We’re officially homeschooling a sixth grader, a first grader, and juggling a baby brother who can go from melting hearts to meltdown mode in three seconds flat. Well, actually all of them can!

And let me just say… I am in all of my feelings.

Our sixth grader has stepped fully into that in-between space. Old enough to question everything, young enough to still need me for things. She’s been a little bossy, a lot emotional, and not quite sure how to handle the changes happening in her heart and body.

Our first grader, now the “middle child,” has turned into a tiny tornado...not that she wasn't on her way there already. Testing limits, saying things that sting, even acting out in moments of frustration. It’s her way of asking, Do I still matter? Am I still little enough to need you, or big enough to be noticed?

And our baby boy? He’s the joy and the chaos, all in one. He brings the family together with his giggles and then promptly shatters the peace with his newly found "no."

But here’s the thing…

This year, more than any other, I’ve realized:

We are all doing the best we can.

And that is more than enough.

I’ve struggled with guilt because I want a break, but don’t want to miss a moment. I’ve wrestled with doubt because I worry if I’m getting it right when my girls are bickering or my patience is wearing thin. I’ve faced exhaustion because working, homeschooling, homemaking, and just plain mom-ing is holy work, but it’s also hard work.

But I’ve also seen beauty.

I’ve seen my daughters push each other (not physically) and pull each other closer all in the same afternoon. I’ve watched them find confidence in their creativity, freedom in their learning, and comfort in knowing home is their safe place. I’ve witnessed firsthand how messy, imperfect days still bloom with purpose.

Homeschooling isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence.

It’s not about crafting the perfect lesson plan. It’s about meeting your child right where they are. It’s not about quiet, organized days. It’s about finding joy in the noise, in the questions, in the unexpected. It’s not about getting it right. It’s about growing, together.

And sometimes? Growth looks like tantrums, slammed doors, spilled coffee, and forgetting the math book. But growth also looks like whispered apologies, belly laughs during read-alouds, and sleepy “I love yous” at the end of the day.

Maybe your struggle this year is with sibling rivalry, or finances, or just the overwhelming weight of doing it all. Maybe your toddler is into everything, your preteen is emotionally spiraling, or your house looks like a toy tornado hit it.

Friend, you’re not alone.

And you’re not failing.

You’re blooming.

Right there, in the dirt. In the noise. In the exhaustion. In the beautiful mess of homeschooling. You are growing something beautiful and so are your kids.

Because homeschooling isn’t one-size-fits-all.

It’s wild and wonderful and deeply personal.

Each family, each child, each moment, uniquely made.

Just like flowers in a garden, we all grow at our own pace, in our own way.

And that, mama, is what makes this calling so extraordinary.

So here’s to you…

To the mama who wants space, but also closeness.

To the one who second-guesses herself but shows up anyway.

To the one who is exhausted but chooses love again and again.

You are seen.

You are strong.

You are doing sacred work, even when it looks like survival mode.

Let grace be your rhythm, and love be your compass.

Because even in the struggle, you are still blooming.