An honest note about finding peace in the rhythm of work, parenting, and homeschooling
There’s a lot of power in planning ahead.
Most of us who choose to homeschool while working full time know this all too well. It takes a certain kind of Type A energy to even attempt this lifestyle—a willingness to multitask, goal set, and get after it with purpose.
But what I’ve learned is that to really thrive—and not just survive—you also have to leave room to flow.
I was reminded of this on the morning of the x-ray. It’s not that it started out completely off course. Rather, I knew I needed to approach it with flexibility. On any other morning, my husband and I tag team the different wake-up times of our kids and split up chores without thinking twice. But with me being home alone with all three children, I realized I had to let go of my usual structure.
My goal became simple: make the most of the time I had, keep my energy calm, and set the tone for the rest of the day—for me and for them.
This kind of flexibility is critical when you’re living a layered life. Yes, I have alarms that go off throughout the day to keep me on track. I even set a 10-minute timer to gently track how long I’m downstairs taking a break with the kids—because I know how easily 10 minutes can turn into 30 when the laughter flows and the cuddles come freely. These little tools help me return to my desk feeling both connected and accomplished.
But there are also moments you just can’t plan.
Like when my daughter brought me her apple-shaped block toy in the afternoon. (It’s painted red on the outside with a yellow inside and two small seeds in the core.) She pointed to the middle and asked what it was—thinking it was something totally unrelated to apples. That led to a meaningful little moment where we talked about the anatomy of an apple, about how we usually toss the core even though it holds the seeds, and about how the skin has most of the vitamins. It turned into a conversation about health, nature, and how things grow—all sparked by a toy she’s had for months.
These unexpected learning moments are part of the flow. They’re proof that not everything needs to be scripted to have value.
Some of the most memorable lessons come when we let curiosity lead.
This idea of flow is also part of what inspired Stream of Blue. While I love a good checklist and get immense satisfaction from crossing off to-dos (ask my husband—he’ll tell you I can shift into overdrive in an instant), I also know that life is meant to be felt, not just managed. But more and more, I’m learning to pause. To notice. To be present.
That’s why my family and I camp as often as we can. It’s not nearly as often as we’d like—having very young kids means everything from setting up to breaking down the camper requires eyes on full alert. (If you’ve even been around a toddler for a few minutes, you know what I mean.) And there’s always work and homeschooling and all the things. But when we do make it happen, it’s such a treat to be immersed in nature, breathing it all in together. The gentle power of presence lives there, too.
So if you’re walking this road—homeschooling, working, parenting, and trying to stay grounded—know that you don’t have to choose between structure and surrender. There’s a rhythm waiting for you. One that holds both.
What about you?
What brought you here today? Was it curiosity, encouragement, or maybe the need for a little reminder that you’re doing better than you think?
Wherever you are in your journey—working, homeschooling, parenting, or just figuring things out—I’m so glad you’re here.
Let me know in the comments or click [here] to learn a bit more about me and the heart behind Stream of Blue.