My toddler is screaming, so it must be Tuesday. His face is scrunched, anger etching hard lines onto his normally round face. His complexion flushes red as he hisses out a frustrated, “No,” through clenched teeth.
It isn’t a refusal to acquiesce to my request. Quite the opposite: his is a refusal to accept my refusal.
Except, I haven’t said, “No.” What I said was, “Not right now.”
“Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices
as much as in obeying the Lord?
To obey is better than sacrifice,
and to heed is better than the fat of rams.”
– 1 Samuel 15:22
A pile of odds and ends, the leavings of the day, sit at the base of our stairs like a pile of rubble after a domestic avalanche of orphaned shoes, Hot Wheels, and broken pieces of chalk. This is the “go back” pile: the pile of items designated to be returned upstairs after I have whisked them off the floor in a speed clean session inspired by the Tasmanian Devil.
The pile sits silently mocking me as I give it a good, long stare. This is the pile my daughter is assigned to rehome at the end of every day. At eight, she is fairly dependable, normally thrives on the thrill of completing her chores checklist, and in her more generous moments, even does extra chores just to make me smile. In fact, today is one of those days. She has cleared the toys off the living room floor, fluffed the couch pillows, and folded laundry – all unbidden. The one thing she hasn’t done is clear the pile from the bottom of the stairs.
The one thing I asked her to do.
And I can’t even be frustrated because when I think to myself, “She did everything except what I asked her to do,” somewhere in the back of my mind is a niggling voice that whispers,
Just like you.
It’s not an angry voice. It’s merely stating a fact, one I know at this moment to be true.
I am going to deviate from my norm here and share something personal, and that’s actually not a joke, because although I am always sharing personal stories in these reflections, they are always meant to point the listener to God. They are stories about me, but they aren’t really about me.
This little insight I’m about to share is more narrowly directed at me, but I want to share with you because some of you might be joining us for the first time as listeners from my other podcast and Substack newsletter, Brave New Us, which I recently wrapped production on despite it finally gaining traction after four years of stop-and-go labor. Why leave now, after 16,000 YouTube views, 13,000 podcast downloads, and 4,000 substack subscribers. Why abandon ship?
I might be a bit dense, but began to sense that this was one of the many chores God did not ask me to do.
It was beautiful. It was important. It feels unfinished and it is honestly still a project I’d like to pick and continue – one day.
But that pile on the stairs hit me like a ton of bricks.
I had a queue of reflections in my mind that was two years long. For two years, I had been collecting the stories for this podcast for someday. In the meantime, I busied myself freelance writing, drafting book proposals, expanding my newsletter offerings, and taking the podcast to YouTube.
Someone had once told me that the bioethics “stuff” was like my job, and the Mama Prays stuff was like my hobby. And somewhere in there, I started to believe that, and to behave accordingly. I had forgotten the burning in my heart when I read the words of John Paul II:
“Do you think that there can be anything greater than to bring Jesus to people and people to Jesus?”
And on the one hand, that is the call of every Christian. In a particular way, that is the call of mothers (and fathers for that matter), for the children each of us are given. But when I read those words, I felt a tug on my heart to share the stories I’d been hoarding in my head since one very trying day at Mass.
It was not the day I spoke about two episodes ago – we have a lot of trying days at Mass.
No, this was the day when my 2-year-old decided to make a break for it in response to his own personal altar call. The entire assembly gasped as my son ran the length of the right side of the church up the wheelchair ramp to the elevated stage on which sat the altar. I walked as swiftly as I could with a baby strapped to my chest to head him off before he got to where he could do some real damage. If this was a more artsy parish, his antics might have passed for a skit, because the gospel that day was - I kid you not - the parable of the lost son.
It doesn’t end there. Upon retrieving my son from his mad dash up the aisle, I yanked him outside for some cool down time. For me.
Now, he is what some parents affectionately call a “runner,” and has no sense of anxiety about being far from us. We have since procured a tracking device that he wears around his wrist to keep tabs on our little runaway, but that day, we were just one the verge of discovering the need.
I let him walk a bit ahead of me on the path outside of the church. He took these gains as a sign to run faster and farther, and my heart stopped when he rounded the corner nearest the street. I ran full-on to catch up, but by the time I made it around the corner, he was out of sight. I will spare you the terror of the moments that followed; I eventually found him hiding on a bench in an alcove outside the adoration chapel.
And as I walked back to my pew after receiving communion that day, I felt that tug on my heart. This was what I was supposed to do: share these stories with you, share the ways God is touching my heart through my children. How I lost my son on the parable of the Lost Son. I knew my calling.
And so naturally, I folded the laundry and fluffed the pillows.
Of course, we all do this at times. A thing doesn’t have to be wrong for it to be sinful – as long as it's done at the wrong time, in the wrong way, in the wrong amount, with the wrong person, etc. Who hasn’t scrolled social media when you should have been doing something else? Who hasn’t procrastinated or left something important undone?
And this is where I was getting it wrong. Because it isn’t just choosing the thousand things you weren’t asked to do over your duty that’s wrong. It’s that saying “Not right now” isn’t an appropriate response to God. Just as I can delay my children’s requests, but they don’t have the authority to choose when they carry out their duties (unless I allow it), so do we as children of God have the obligation to respond to his call when we hear it.
And Jesus actually said that. When he called some men to be his disciples, we know that the Apostles dropped what they were doing and followed him. But others made excuses to delay: first, let me bury my father. First, let me say goodbye to my family. And these are good things to do. But what Jesus says, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom..no one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom.” (Luke 9:57-62).
Delayed obedience is disobedience. To be clear, there are mitigating circumstances. In my case, there was a lot going on that made things murky and difficult to discern. But that still doesn’t negate the fact that when Jesus calls, the call is for right now. Delayed obedience is disobedience.
That is tough news for me, but I am here now, ready to cling to the parable about the workers who entered the vineyard late, but still received the same reward (Matt 20:1-16), and the one about the son who told his father he wouldn’t work, but then turned around and did his father’s will (Matt 21:28-31).
Even now, it might be the case that I am still not fully following Jesus’s call for me. I do not know for certain, and if I did know for certain, there would be room for faith.
So to close, I will share with you one of my favorite prayers, particularly for times like these. It is a prayer by Thomas Merton:
My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you
does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road,
though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though
I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Amen
I’ve never been one to wait idly. I’m methodical in my approach—thinking, researching, planning, and praying are all part of my process. But once I’ve made a decision, I’m eager to act on it. This was especially true when I decided to become part of the Catholic Church.
I kept calling to mind Harry’s line from “When Harry Met Sally”: “Once you realize that you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
That’s how I felt about receiving Jesus in the Eucharist. I wanted it — Him — immediately.
As a homeschooling parent, keeping accurate records is essential. Whether you’re required to do so by state regulations or simply want to maintain a comprehensive record of your child’s educational journey, effective record-keeping ensures clarity, accountability, and peace of mind. In this post, I share my approach to homeschool record-keeping, including practical tips and recommended tools.
Before diving into the details, let’s address two state programs that offer unique opportunities for record-keeping:
Overture Learning: If you’re in Idaho, consider signing up for Overture Learning. This K-12 distance education program provides support, curriculum, and resources to homeschooling families. By submitting work samples, you can receive state reimbursement for non-religious materials, zoo admission, and more. Overture becomes your grade/school of record, making it an excellent option for organized record-keeping.
Tech Trep Academy: Available in several states, including Idaho, Tech Trep Academy offers personalized, tuition-free education (this is the option we use). While not mandatory, it’s wise to keep records even if you participate in Tech Trep. Their flexible approach allows parents to choose learning resources that suit their child’s needs. You’ll receive a supplemental learning fund to enhance your homeschool experience. Tech Trep also offers virtual classes, clubs, and monthly field trips, fostering a well-rounded education.
Regardless of state requirements, here are the key components to include in your homeschool records:
Attendance Records: Keep track of the days your child participates in educational activities. Even if not mandated, attendance records provide a clear picture of your homeschooling journey.
Curriculum Information: Document the textbooks, workbooks, and online resources you use. Note the subjects covered and any unique materials you incorporate.
Samples of Student Work: Collect samples of your child’s schoolwork—essays, projects, artwork, and assessments. These demonstrate progress and achievement.
Correspondence: Save any communication with school officials, including letters of withdrawal (if applicable). These interactions validate your homeschooling efforts.
Portfolios and Test Results: Create portfolios as keepsakes. Include student work, progress reports, and any standardized test scores or evaluations.
One tool I highly recommend is the Mardel A Simple Plan Homeschool Planner. Here’s why it’s fantastic:
Comprehensive Sections: This planner covers all bases. From lesson planning to attendance tracking, it’s designed to simplify your homeschool organization. As an added plus for large families, it has space for up to 6 kids!
Versatile Learning Funds: If you’re part of a program like Tech Trep, the planner accommodates the $1700 learning fund provided per student. Use it for approved educational resources, technology items, and extracurricular activities.
Virtual Classes and Clubs: The planner helps you schedule virtual classes and track club participation. It’s a hub for your child’s educational experiences.
Creating a homeschool portfolio is more than just a record-keeping exercise; it’s a way to capture the essence of your child’s educational journey. While not required in Idaho, we choose to compile portfolios as cherished keepsakes, allowing us to reflect on the growth and accomplishments of each school year.
I love this video that offers a step-by-step guide on assembling a meaningful collection of your child’s work. This resource simplifies the process, ensuring that your portfolio not only serves as a record but also as a celebration of your child’s progress.
In addition to the video, I offer my basic portfolio template, designed to streamline your record-keeping. This template is a tool to help you organize work samples, highlight milestones, and create a tangible reflection of your homeschooling experience. It’s an easy-to-use framework that supports you in documenting the learning adventure you and your children embark on each year.
Even though portfolios aren’t mandated, their value is immeasurable. They serve as a time capsule, capturing the essence of your homeschooling days—every project, every lesson, and every discovery. As you flip through the pages, you’ll be transported back to those moments of shared learning, and you’ll see, in vivid detail, just how far you’ve come together.
A portfolio is more than a collection of papers; it’s a narrative of your homeschooling path, a story that unfolds with each added piece. So, let’s create something beautiful that you and your children will treasure for years to come.
Remember, even if your state doesn’t require extensive record-keeping, maintaining organized records benefits both you and your child. Whether you choose Overture, Tech Trep, or another approach, find a system that works for your family. With the right tools and a dash of creativity, you’ll create a meaningful record of your homeschooling adventure.
Happy homeschooling!
“And how has it happened to me, that the mother of my Lord would come to me? For behold, when the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby leaped in my womb for joy.”
– Luke 1:43-45
“Then the dragon was enraged at the woman and went off to wage war against the rest of her offspring—those who keep God’s commands and hold fast their testimony about Jesus.”
– Revelations 12:17
“Mom, how big am I?” my son bounces on his heels, eagerly awaiting my answer.
“What do you mean, honey?” I ask. I am slow to look up from my reading, so I miss his gesture towards the wall.
“I mean, how much do I weigh?” he asks.
“We’ll have to go upstairs and see,” I reply, thinking of the digital scale in my bathroom.
“NO!” he replies with uncharacteristic force for my usually mellow 5-year-old. “You know,” he says with a meaningful look, and this time I follow where he is pointing.
He wants to know how much he weighs, according to the measure on the wall, where on each of their birthdays, we make little pencil marks to show how tall our children are, so that they can see how much they’ve grown each year.
He’s asking how much he weighs, but that isn’t really what he means.
One question that people are asking all over the internet these days has to do with the value of motherhood, thanks to a certain viral speech on a college campus somewhere in the middle of our country.
The reflection I have for you today is not a hot take on the merits or faults of that speech. This isn’t going to be a relative weighing of the value of stay at home motherhood or the permissibility of mothers pursuing paid work or passions outside the home.
This is simply a reminder from one mother to another, on the Feast of the Visitation, that your motherhood matters.
Because one thing that speech got right is that motherhood, in the last several decades, is under attack. We hear in Revelations that the dragon is enraged at the woman – that is, Mary - and is waging war against her offspring. We know that women have been a central battleground over the last century. We know these wounds. We know the political talking points.
We know the voice that lurks in the darkness and whispers words that weigh on us, filling us with guilt and despair – guilt for choosing motherhood and, or guilt for not contributing enough to the world. It wants to wreck us, whichever choice we make, and we lash out and scapegoat whoever has chosen differently than ourselves. We know it all.
But do we know just how important our motherhood is?
It’s easy to forget, whether you’ve left a career full of accolades or are still accruing those accomplishments. Either way, the daily tasks of motherhood are mundane, thankless, unfulfilling.
We do dishes. We prepare meals. We fold laundry. We sweep up crumbs. And whether we bake sourdough from scratch or slap some Wonderbread on the table, there really isn’t a lot of glamor in this job description.
Sure, we can coordinate calendars with the skill of an executive assistant and plan perfectly proportioned meals to nourish our children. We become experts in removing blood stains, toy rotations, and cutting off crusts. Some of us can even fold a fitted sheet. Motherhood is challenging, and forces us to develop skills we feel are beyond us. I’m still working on those fitted sheets.
Like I said, the tasks that make up our everyday are not glamorous. When I left work to stay home with our kids, my husband would come home every day and ask me one dreaded question: “What did you do today?”
I hated answering that question. When I was working, that question might have any number of interesting answers. I might have had a meaningful conversation with a student or gotten some nice comment from my boss. I might have gone toe to toe with a parent or come up with a brilliant idea of how to teach a difficult concept.
As a stay at home mom to two littles, my answers weren’t worth repeating. I got that jam out of the couch. I changed out of clothes covered in spit up. We played with Barbies while the baby inched his way across the carpet.
My frustration with that question and our inability to appreciate the value of motherhood have the same problem as my son wanting to weigh himself by the marks on the wall: they use the wrong measure.
My son won’t learn his weight from the wall, and we will never understand the meaning of motherhood when we try to account for it by any of the world’s measures. Not productivity. Not economics. Not statistics on good outcomes for mothers who adhered to any particular type of work related performance or abstinence.
The immeasurable and intangible meaning of motherhood cannot be captured by a checklist.
Mothering children is a divinely-appointed vocation, one in which the souls of our children have been entrusted to us to raise. The effects of motherhood are not inconsequential, but have eternal significance that few employment opportunities can hope to provide.
Cardinal Josef Mindzety phrases it like this:
“The most important person on earth is a mother. She cannot claim the honor of having built Notre Dame Cathedral. She need not. She has built something more magnificent than any cathedral – a dwelling for an immortal soul, the tiny perfection of her baby’s body. . . The angels have not been blessed with such a grace. They cannot share in God’s creative miracle to bring new saints to Heaven. Only a human mother can. Mothers are closer to God the Creator than any other creature; God joins forces with mothers in performing this act of creation… What on God’s good earth is more glorious than this: to be a mother?”
And if you don’t believe the good cardinal, ask yourself who has been the most important woman in all of history. Who is the most powerful? The most influential? Whose work during her earthly days has not only moved our world, but ripples into eternity?
The answer, of course, is the woman God crowned Queen of Heaven and Earth, his mother.
And yet if we reflect on Mary’s daily tasks, we will find that they were not much different than our own – even if she did not yet have to contend with fitted sheets. She washed dishes. She prepared meals. She folded laundry, swept up crumbs, and made bread.
And as the mother of God, she even made the bread that comes down from Heaven. Her days were filled with snuggles and storytelling. She taught him to pray and introduced him to the community.
Mary practiced by example what her son would later advise: “If you wish to become great, you must become the servant of all,” (Matt. 20:26).
The greatest Woman on earth spent her days cooking meals for her husband and washing her son’s clothing. Why should we desire anything different?
God has given us souls to steward, and no measure on earth can tell us what that is worth.
When people say you are “just a mom,” turn the other cheek. Don't cast your pearls before swine. Those who would have us believe our time with our children is worth less than our paycheck, or who see hopping off the ladder as a death wish rather than a great leap of faith will spend their lives chasing dust and ashes.
When they accuse us of wasting our potential, let us not take offense. Thomas Merton said only the false self is ever offended. We should look on those who see motherhood as a pitstop or an impediment to what really matters with the gaze of Jesus who looked upon the lost with hesed, sometimes translated as pity, loving kindness, or mercy. They are sheep without a shepherd.
It is our job to be salt and light. Beggars showing the other beggars where to find food.
Motherhood is littleness. Motherhood is servanthood. And motherhood is monumental – by every measure that matters.
People were bringing little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant.
He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”
And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them.
— Mark 10:13-16
One of the first blog posts I ever wrote was an earnest, idealistic piece on the importance of bringing our children to Mass. Several years and four kids later, those sentiments are as obsolete as that first blog. My own words pop into my head and my stomach churns — bloated from years of weekly humble pie.
Our trip to Mass today is no different than any other Sunday. We rush into the car, stopping halfway out the drive to rush back inside in search of someone’s lost shoe. Despite our best efforts, on on-time buffer window shrinks, and we silently and anxiously pray that we’ll make it into the pews before the procession beings.
What is the point? I ask myself. The question has become almost a ritual. What is the point of subjecting ourselves to this weekly hour of humiliation in which we will be lucky to pray a passing song lyric through the din of mediating sibling disputes in hushed whispers as my husband and I take turns escorting out the naughtiest child outside? The church may as well have revolving doors for all the time we’ve spent inside it. I hadn’t heard a homily in years.
What is the point?
As I lean my head against the cool glass of the car window, steeling myself for the hour of misery that surely awaits, no exterior sign prepares me for the particulars of what’s to come.
As we pull up to the Cathedral, shivers of dread run up my spine despite the glaring heat from the summer sun. We hike up the grand concrete staircase that beckons all to enter in and yank on the brass door handles, to no avail. The doors are locked.
Mentally chastising myself for forgetting that Mass is being held in the adjacent gym during Cathedral renovations, I relinquish the final glimmers of false hope of being on time. Still huffing from the trek up the stairs, we begin our descent down the other side. Sweat trickles down my back, soaking into the thin but tightly-wrapped soft pink fabric of the baby wrap in which my newborn is nestled snuggly, blissfully ignorant of her role as my personal heat-generator.
The gym doors swing open with a bang and my heart drops as I realize that not only have we missed the procession, but the gym has been set up for Mass facing the side we just entered. We slink past the hundreds of chairs, heads hung low, trying to avoid the gaze of their occupants, slowly realizing that all the chairs have been filled.
Mass continues on behind us. Not that we can hear it over the creaking of the ancient wooden bleachers beneath our feet, which have been built in such a way that one must climb to the very last row — the one nearest the ceiling — to enter them. The second we take our seats in the nosebleeds, our oldest announces that she needs to go to the potty. My husbands creaks his way right back down the stairs with our oldest and toddler in tow, leaving me with our newborn and usually mild-mannered son to manage.
Today, he shows no signs of manners, mild or otherwise.
When he finally notices that Dad is off to do far more interesting things than stare at the roof of the world’s tallest gym, he immediately recognizes the unfairness of the moment and demands to be given his rights to go along. He lunges to make his escape, and I tighten my grip on his arm as I watch my husband disappear through the gym doors, oblivious to the struggle we’re having in the rafters.
Incensed by the grave injustice he endures at my hands, my 4-year-old deploys his most effective weapon, shrieking at the top of his lungs, “You’re saying a BAD WORD to me!”
Clearly, something has been lost in translation. The only “bad” word I have used is “no” (in this conversation anyway), and yet his repeated refrain reverberates from the rafters for the whole assembly to hear that I have been swearing at my child during Mass.
Did I mention that we are the only family that has been exiled to sky-high bleacher seating, so it is abundantly clear just which mother is allegedly spouting profanity at her young son?
This might be my deadliest dose of humble pie to date.
Eventually my husband returns, oblivious to the mascara that streaks down my face, hidden beneath my veil, pulled close to mask my shame.
Mass goes on, and I go through the motions numb and unaware, save the ebb and flow of behavioral disasters breaking over me, heedless of the way their constant breaking has worn me away over the years.
When it is time for communion, my merry band of littles ones stomp down the stairs creating a cacophony that is impossibly thunderous for such tiny feet.
What is the point? I sigh, despondent. Someone somewhere must have mistaken my inward groanings for a prayer, because as we round the corner to come up the center aisle, I catch sight of my little girl’s hand enclosed in my own, and the haze of my despair lifts, giving way to the brightness of a new truth dawning inside me.
This is the point. Here in this stuffy gym, our Lord and Savior waits to greet us at the end of this aisle. And as we walk hand in hand towards our Lord, I see that this moment is an image of our lives together.
It is my divinely-appointed vocation to lead these souls to Jesus. That is why we suffer the torment of bringing the wiggly and whiny to church every week — so that they can come to know and love their Maker.
And on the really good days, I see the fruits of our labor blossoming through spontaneous prayer, sketches of Sacred Heart, playing Mass together, concern for the poor, a tiny act of virtue in love for a sibling.
But in this moment I see something new: it goes both ways.
Not only do I lead my little girl up the aisle; she is bringing me to Jesus.
She brings me to Jesus in a hundred different ways every day. She brings me to Jesus in sheer gratitude for her existence, when I pray for her, when her little faith shines forth in thousands of brilliant questions all my high school students in eight years never thought to ask.
Even more than that, she brings me to Jesus when she brings me to my knees. It’s the tough moments, all these little humiliations, the times in my motherhood when I suffer the refining fire of my own insufficiency. Whatever leads me deeper into the mystery of the limitless love of the Father covering all my faults and failings leads me into the freedom of my dependence on Him.
I can surrender to these humiliations happily, reveling in the reminder that I am never truly in control.
Maybe someday I’ll even surrender my desire for that control.
For now, we walk, hand in hand, urging each other along as divinely-appointed companions on this long, slow road to Jesus.
My husband snapped this candid shot of my and my littles on that creaky staircase in the stuffy gym on that stifling summer day, basking in the glow of relief after surviving yet another Mass with our zoo in tow.
Summer is the perfect season to explore faith with your children, and what better way to do it than through a Bible study that’s engaging, educational, and fun? Whether you’re lounging on the beach or enjoying the shade of your backyard tree, these resources will help you and your little ones dive into the Word of God together.
Not Consumed: A Non-Denominational Treasure First on our list is Not Consumed. While it’s not specifically Catholic, it comes highly recommended for its universal Christian values. It’s a fantastic resource for parents looking to instill a strong foundation of faith in their children, regardless of denomination.
The Biggest Story: An Animated Adventure Next, we have The Biggest Story curriculum. This is a gem for visual and auditory learners. You can watch beautifully animated Bible stories for free on YouTube, which is a great way to bring the scriptures to life. If you prefer reading, the Bible storybook is available for around $20. The Biggest Story also offers activity pages, craft templates, and coloring sheets for FREE on their website—perfect for hands-on learning.
DK Family Illustrated Bible: A Visual Feast For those who love to learn through images, the DK Family Illustrated Bible is a must-have. It’s not only visually stunning but also comes with a nihil obstat, indicating that it’s free from doctrinal or moral error. This Bible is a fantastic tool for teaching your kids about the stories and teachings of the Bible in a way that’s both informative and captivating.
Marigold Hunt’s Story-Based Learning If you’re looking for a story-based approach, Marigold Hunt’s books are a wonderful option. She offers a Catechism adventure that’s both engaging and educational. Her works on the life of Christ and the book of Acts are particularly noteworthy for bringing these powerful stories to life in a way that resonates with young readers.
Crafting a Summer of Faith
With these resources at your fingertips, you’re all set to create a summer Bible study that your kids will love. Mix and match reading, watching, and doing to cater to your children’s learning styles. Remember, the goal is to make the Bible accessible and enjoyable, fostering a love for God’s Word that will grow with them.
So grab some lemonade, gather your little ones, and embark on a summer adventure through the Bible. It’s a journey that promises to enrich your family’s faith and create lasting memories.
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There is no such thing as “too busy to pray.” I know that life can be crazy, and there is real value in knowing our limits and being gentle with ourselves. This is not one of those posts. If you need one of those posts, read THIS instead. This is a tough love post, a “come to Jesus” post (literally!). This is an “I love you just the way you are but too much to let you stay that way” post. I know I need this list, and I think you do too.
For your kick-in-the-pants list of ways to prioritize prayer, read on.
Pray first thing in the morning. If you make it the first thing you do every morning, you won’t ever run out of time.
Pick a Scripture verse that inspires you. Write it on a post-it (or print it out) and put it on the wall in front of your toilet. Seriously. You spend several quality minutes sitting here in quiet each day. Make them count. Change the verse each time you clean your toilet.
Take a social-media hiatus. Delete the apps from your phone. Every time you have the impulse to scroll, offer a prayer instead. Finally, a way to honor St. Paul’s call to “pray continually!”
Use recorded prayers. Whether you have a long commute or spend time at the sink doing dishes each day, you can pray along with a recorded Rosary or Divine Mercy Chaplet as you go about tasks that do not require your mental attention. Check out the Family Rosary app, Together We Pray, for a recorded Rosary. It's free for iOS and Android.
Listen to worship music. Set aside some time to create a playlist of songs that speak to you (or use one that’s already been curated on Spotify. Here’s a great one by Blessed Is She).
Make a date with Jesus. Look up daily Mass, Confession, or Adoration times and pencil something into your calendar. You can’t sustain a romance with someone you never see.
As you work, clean, or make a meal, offer a prayer of gratitude for the person who will benefit.
Before turning on Netflix, take 20 minutes to journal, read Scripture, or relax with a good book. Pick something that will refresh you rather than merely helping you zone out.
When you feel frustrated with someone, make a conscious effort to see and love Jesus in that person. If you are like me, this will provide you with ample prayer opportunities throughout your day.
At the end of the day, review it with an examination of conscience like this one from IgnatianSpirituality.com or this one, shared by Loyola Press. Leave yourself a note on your pillow so you don’t forget. Ask God to help you see where He showed up, and how you missed opportunities. Sit in gratitude. Ask for help to do better next time.
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Homeschooling can be a challenging yet rewarding journey, and finding the right resources to keep your children engaged is key to a successful educational experience. Subscription boxes have become a popular tool for parents looking to enrich their homeschooling curriculum with hands-on activities and global insights.
Here is my curated list of the top subscription boxes to complement your curriculum and spark joy in learning.
History:
History Unboxed: History comes alive with History Unboxed. This subscription service offers a unique blend of crafts, stories, and activities that span ancient, medieval, and American history. It’s perfect for making history lessons more engaging and interactive.
Geography:
Universal Yums: Explore the world through snacks with Universal Yums. Each box features treats from a different country, along with trivia and games, perfect for a tasty geography lesson.
Letters from Afar: Isabelle, the fictional explorer, will take your children on a literary journey around the world with Letters from Afar. Each month, they’ll receive beautifully illustrated letters, field notes, and maps that explore different cultures and destinations. Pair this with Saints Around the World by Meg Hunter-Kilmer and Rick Steves’s travel documentaries for an immersive geography and cultural experience.
Faith:
Mass Box: The Mass Box is a craft box that helps prepare kids for Sunday and Holy Day church services. It includes crafts, activities, and videos that correspond to the Bible readings, making it a great addition to religious education at home.
Saint of the Month: Dive into the lives of the saints with Saint of the Month. Each box contains 4-5 gifts, a brochure, and a set of goals related to the featured saint, offering a unique way to learn about faith and holiness.
Science:
Kiwi Crate: Kiwi Crate sparks creativity and innovation in children aged 5-8 with STEAM-based projects. From science experiments to art activities, each crate is designed to inspire young minds and develop problem-solving skills.
Crunch Labs: Designed by former NASA engineer Mark Rober, Crunch Labs encourages kids to think like engineers. The Build Box and Hack Pack subscriptions provide DIY toys and robots that teach engineering principles through play. (This one is on my husband’s wishlist!)
For the Little Ones:
LoveEvery: For the littlest learners in your family, LoveEvery provides stage-based play kits filled with playthings, books, and developmental guides. These kits support your child’s brain development and keep them busy while older siblings focus on their studies..
These subscription boxes are more than just fun; they’re a gateway to knowledge and creativity. Whether your child is crafting a historical artifact, tasting international cuisine, deepening their faith, or building a robot, these boxes will enrich their homeschooling experience in the most delightful ways.
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Ah, the eternal question: how to keep toddlers and preschoolers occupied during the big kids’ school time?
The pious answer? Pray.
The humorous answer? Drink.
The unhelpful answer? Get used to the mess and chaos.
I am fairly certain I have read every post and listened to every podcast episode that attempts to answer this question, and I can tell you one thing: they all fall short. None of them has the magic answer, and spoiler alert: I don’t either. There just is no easy way to homeschool in the middle of the chaos of toddlers and preschoolers.
There are, however, a few tips and tricks that make the roar quieter and the messes smaller. So, take solace in the fact that it is not just you; this is a tough season for everyone, and I am told by many a wise mother that better days are ahead. In the meantime, here is what is (sort of) working for us.
This is not a trite or pat answer. We have a later 9:00 start time precisely so I can fit in some nuggets of prayer while caring for my early risers (nursing the little one and entertaining my 4-year-old). Then, we start the homeschooling day in prayer. When things are going wrong, I abandon myself to Jesus in prayer like my toddler crawls crying into my lap after scraping her knee. Prayer is like oxygen; it is amazing what the simple act of breathing can do for a person.
Having an optimized routine can help things to go more smoothly. I try to fill my little ones up before their schooling big siblings wake for the day —- with attention, and with plenty of snacks. We do art, science experiments, and other messy or involved projects while the baby is napping (anyone else still call their youngest “the baby” even though she’s nearly 2?). We have “tea time” with snacks and coloring pages while I do read alouds so their mouths are full and their hands are busy. Having everyone filled up also prevents hanger-induced tantrums, which is always a plus.
For the longest time, I avoided giving them sensory bins because I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable grains of rice and stray beans on the floor. However, after scrubbing toothpaste and butt cream and paint off various surfaces, I reconsidered and changed the out-of-control messes for limited messes of my choosing. I realized part of the reason my wild child was getting into such trouble every time he was out of sight was because he needed that sensory input I’d been depriving him of. This is a great book on making your own busy bags, and I have a post dedicated to the themed bins that we rotate through. This is a variation on the advice to have toys that they can only access during school times, and it has honestly worked wonders and been a huge relief — totally worth the initial investment and a heck of a lot cheaper than the preschool tuition I’d been considering to solve the problem. The way I see it, these items are necessary parts of our curriculum.
A tip for managing the expense? Create an Amazon wishlist and let relatives know what you’re working on. Kinds honestly love these things so much, and it has been so much better to have toys and activities that actually occupy our kids and stimulate their creativity than another remote control toy or Barbie accessory.
So, for a first or only kid, I am not a big fan of preschool. They get everything they need from storytime with mom, playtime in nature, visits to the library, and trips to the zoo — you get the picture. But as our family has grown, my perspective on preschool has changed. What this looks like will depend entirely on the interests and temperament of your individual little one, but having some kind of “school” for your little makes him feel like he, too, is special and a part of the action. This could be his own copy of the worksheet to scribble on alongside his siblings, or he might be ready for his own “table work” with mom. (We use The Good and the Beautiful’s preschool program and kindergarten prep along with Kate Snow’s Preschool Math at Home). We also use the books from My Father’s World. I’d love to implement the whole program, but it is too overwhelming for managing multiple grade levels). You make the call, but the more they feel included, the less they have to act out to garner attention.
I know I said this advice is unhelpful, but it is also a reminder I need constantly. THIS is the time for snuggles and silly picture books. THIS is the time to bake the cookies and have sweet conversations with our little ones. Especially as our focus moves to educating our older kiddos, it is so easy to lose touch with meeting the needs of our littlest. Remembering that this, too, shall pass, is both a great relief and a cause for sorrow depending on how my day has gone. Our time with our kids is so brief (one of the reasons we homeschool in the first place), and yet how often do I find myself rushing my kids onto the next thing or looking wistfully over the proverbial fence to those ages when the trials of this current stage will be long past?
This stage is sticky, cacophonous, chaotic — a never-ending avalanche of clutter to be swept and booboos to be kissed. But it is also filled to the brim with the sweetest snuggles and the wonder of discovery. GK Chesterton said that “The way to really love a thing is to remember that it may be lost.” So, take the time to remind yourself that these are the days that we will soon long for.
Ah, the seemingly-eternal question: how to keep toddlers and preschoolers occupied during the big kids’ school time?
That is worth of a post in itself.
Here, you’ll find recipes with ingredients for themed busy bins, designed to be low-mess, independent, and engaging for those little hands and minds. Each has sensory, fine motor, building, and creative components and can be rotated on a daily basis to keep each activity fresh and exciting for your little one.
They don’t need to be themed (I just find buying to be easier and more fun this way), and if your little one enjoys some activities more than others, feel free to lean heavier on his interests!
Please let me know how you enjoy these! We have been having a blast so far. (Amazon links are affliliate links, so if you do purchase via these links, it’s like sending me a “thank-you for the idea” tip, at no extra cost to you.)
For each of these, I purchase and label a scrapbox bin for storing the items. I get mine for $5 on sale at Michael’s, but these Amazon options also work well. If a book doesn’t fit, I just store it on top of the bin, and if an activity has just too many pieces, I store just enough to keep those little hands moving in a little bag inside the box. The rest of the set goes into one of our regular play spaces for other times of the day.
FARM
Sensory: Bean bin with Montessori tools
Fine-motor: Melissa and Doug Hide and Seek Wooden Farm
Building: Duplo At the Farm Set
Creativity: Melissa and Doug Farm Water WOW
Puzzles: Melissa and Doug Cube Puzzle, Melissa and Doug Chunky Puzzle
Book: Melissa and Doug Poke a Dot Farm
OCEAN
Sensory: Kinetic Sand with Ocean Molds
Fine-motor: Learning Locks
Building: Plus Plus Ocean Creatures
Creativity: Melissa and Doug Ocean Water WOW, Crayola Color Wonder Magic Light “Watercolor”
Puzzle: Melissa and Doug Fishing Puzzle
Book: Peek-a-Flap Ocean
BEARS/FOREST
Sensory: Play Dough Fun Set
Fine-motor: Lauri animal foam and peg stackers, Lincoln Logs
Building: Magnatile Forest Animals
Creativity: Color Wonder Alpha Pets
Puzzle: Melissa and Doug Wooden Bear Family Dress-up
Book: Peek-a-Flap WHO
DINOSAURS
Sensory: Colored Rice and Dino Figures
Fine-motor: Skillmatics Foil Fun Dinos
Building: Infantino Sensory Blocks
Creativity: Melissa and Doug Water WOW, Melissa and Doug Reusable Puffy stickers, Color Wonder Dinos
Puzzle: Melissa and Doug Chunky Puzzle
Book: The Ultimate Book of Dinosaurs
ICE CREAM RAINBOW
Sensory: Kinetic Sand Ice Cream Set, (also baking soda, vinegar, and food coloring in muffin tins with dropper to disperse the vinegar into tins filled with baking soda)
Fine-motor: Skillmatics Magnetic Alphabet Rainbow, Magnetic Ice Cream Color Matching
Building: Picasso Tiles, Magnetic Montessori Blocks
Creativity: Melissa and Doug Play Ice Cream Store (store the pieces only in the box), Ice-cream scented dot markers
Puzzle: Melissa and Doug Ice Cream Magnetic Puzzle Set
Book: Ice Cream: The Full Scoop by Gail Gibbons, Let’s Lace
JUNGLE/SAFARI
Sensory: Safari creatures, rice, and sensory scoops
Fine-motor: Geo-Board
Building: Learning Resources Tangrams/Pattern Blocks
Creativity: Melissa and Doug Reusable Puffy Stickers, Melissa and Doug Safari Puppets
Puzzle: Melissa and Doug Jungle Book/Puzzle, Melissa and Doug Safari Jigsaw
Book: Peek a Flap Zoo
LIFE CYCLES
Sensory/Fine Motor: Water play and Learning Resources Fine Motor Tool Set with Life Cycle Set
Building: Brain Flakes Building Set
Creativity: Crayola Color Wonder Stamp Set
Puzzle: 5-Layer Wooden Frog Puzzle
Book: DK How Does a Frog Grow Board Book, DK Life Cycles
CONSTRUCTION/VEHICLES
Sensory: Lentils and construction vehicles, Construction play sand set
Fine-motor: ImagiMake Shape Vehicle Puzzle, Skoolzy Nuts and Bolts
Building: Construction Magnatiles, Magnatile set (worth their weight in GOLD)
Creativity: Melissa and Doug Water WOW
Puzzle: Melissa and Doug Chunky Puzzle, Melissa and Doug Construction Jigsaw
Book: The Ultimate Book of Vehicles, Richard Scarry Busy Box Set, Melissa and Dog Poke a Dot Contruction
SPACE
Sensory: Pop tubes and space sensory bins
Fine-motor: Skillmatics “Dot It” Space Sticker Activity
Building: Kapla Planks, Space Duplos
Creativity: Melissa and Doug Water WOW, Paint by Sticker
Puzzle: Learning Resources Magnetic Solar System
Book: The Ultimate Book of Space
PRINCESS/CASTLE
Sensory: Little People Princess Set and dried peas OR Unicorn Sensory bin with kinetic sand
Fine-motor: Tea Party Set, Disney Princess Magnetic Dress Up
Building: Magnetic Castle, Magnetic Princess Blocks
Creativity: Play Scarves, Melissa and Doug Reusable Puffy Sticker Sets
Puzzle: Disney Princess Wooden Cube Puzzle, Minnie Mouse Mix and Match
Book: Beauty and the Beast Classic Pop-up
We are not campers by any means, and our version of hiking usually includes a stroller. However, we aspire to become people of the outdoors, and as such, we have made it a goal to visit all 63 National Parks as a family. Never one to pass up an opportunity for travel or to educate my kids by doing, I designed a National Parks Unit Study that we can dip in and out of as our visits to the Parks occur. This can also be used as a stand-alone unit study.
I am ever-inspired by Charlotte Mason’s description of education as an atmosphere, a discipline, and a life. As such, you’ll find resources below not only to educate your children about the National Parks, but to help them become an integral part of their imaginations and your family culture.
Spine:
We used both DK National Parks For Kids and USA: Lands of Wonder as a wealth of information and for their gorgeous photos. I also liked Wide Eyed’s National Parks Book for lovely illustrations and approachable descriptions. If I have to choose one, I pick Lands of Wonder, but honestly, why choose? Our local library has them all and I bet yours does, too (although I did invest in these as we plan to revisit them again and again).
Activities:
Our kids actually did all of these on our road trip to visit the National Parks. They loved DK National Parks Sticker Book and the
National Parks Activity Book, but their favorite was this Sticker by Number book.
Read Alouds:
We have enjoyed the National Parks Mystery Series. The chapters are short and it has illustrations, making it a perfect fit for our morning time. I was a little bummed that the books didn’t match the exact parks we were visiting (we’ve been to Carlsbad, Hawaii Volcanoes, and Arches so far). I hear the author plans to make it a ten book series, so maybe your favorite park will be next! (Mine is Arches).
Games:
We have one day a week dedicated to gameschooling, and the kids also pull these out at random times for fun during the week. National Parks Trivia, Trekking the National Parks, and this gorgeous Parks Strategy Game are great for older kids. If you have a younger set, I recommend National Parks Bingo, National Parks Memory Game (also gorgeous), and what has probably been the biggest hit in our household so far, the Melissa and Doug National Parks Magnet Matching activity.
Pretend:
For igniting those little imaginations, you have to love Melissa and Doug’s Yellowstone Bear Set and Park Ranger Set.
Viewing:
America’s National Parks doesn’t feature every park, but it was the only series I found that held my kiddo’s attention. After viewing the episode on Hawaii Volcanoes, my 5-year-old was telling anyone who would listen that his favorite bug was a lava cricket — so I know learning was happening during all those leaps between couch cushions.
Ongoing:
As for the atmosphere part, I invested in this Wooden Keepsake Map for our family. It is beautifully made and comes with little green trees that press into the spaces to mark where your family has visited. I was also temped by this more affordable scratch-off poster which is still attractive but at a healthier price-point. I wish I had seen these National Parks Passports before we first embarked. I can’t find the ones we originally bought but am seriously thinking of just transferring the stamps we had into these because they are so lovely! (Also, I don’t have this throw blanket just yet, but it is on my wish list and my birthday is coming up! Hint, hint, husband!)
I also have to mention the Junior Ranger Program, in which the kids can receive badges for activites completed online or by visiting the Parks in person.
Happy hiking!
Our youngest son was the quietest in the womb. “Have you felt the baby move today?” my nurses would ask at our prenatal appointments. “No,” I’d reply, “But that’s not unusual for him.”
That stillness did not last.
Our third baby is so wiggly that at times, he feels impossible to hold. He loves to “jump” on your lap as he holds tight to your fingers. On a three hour flight, my lap baby refused to nap serenely in our Ergo carrier as our others had. No, he wanted to be out and ready for action.
He started crawling at five months and pulling to stand at six. Now, you can find him happily cruising the furniture in our living room.
No, wait — he’s up the step and halfway down the hall.
Having an on-the-go baby has its benefits. Unlike our first daughter who cried even in arms, and our middle kid who was content as long as he was being held, this little guy is happy to explore on his own. He’ll even play contently in his crib when he wakes from a nap (which is lovely except when he wakes needing to be changed and I find his patience is actually preoccupation; he has been finger-painting in his own banana yellow poop).
Our real challenge comes during diaper and wardrobe changes. Have you ever struggled to pull fitted footie pajamas onto a reluctant cat? No need. You can come over and try to dress Noah.
He pushes. He pulls. One foot in and he pulls the other out. He protests laying on his back by immediately flipping onto his stomach and he’s off, wiggling for freedom at the end of the changing pad. The fall to the floor does not daunt him. It’s just one more daredevil stunt to tackle, and he’s very curious to know what going over the edge would feel like.
“Would you just hold still?” I find myself asking aloud. There is something about this moment of my son’s bare body wriggling in my hands as he yanks back an arm, flips to his tummy and lunges for the edge a third time. A little piece of grace, maybe.
And suddenly, that question isn’t for my son anymore.
It is a question for me.
“Will you just hold still?”
Noah’s only quiet time is when he is nursing. He waits until he is starving to let loose a banshee-like wail, and once on my chest, hunts frantically mouth-first like a truffle pig rooting out its prize. He latches, and instantly his body is still and his wailing goes quiet.
“Will you just hold still?” Our heavenly Father waits patiently for me to settle down, but I am too busy plunging ahead to the next thing. Like Wiley Coyote, I rush off the cliff before I realize I’m no longer on solid ground.
I am a yes or NOW person.
Like Wiley, I inevitably plummet.
Yet, somehow, God never loses patience with me. The invitation is always there, but unlike my frazzled impatience, his voice carries tone of amusement and sorrow:
“Will you just hold still?”
He offers rest and nourishment, and here I am, caught up in my whirlwind. The posture of my soul is not so much that of a nursing infant as it is the Tasmanian Devil.
“Will you just hold still?” he beckons. I can see the outstretched arm, and I long to take it. But I somehow lack the energy. Or the muscle memory. Or the will.
Taking that hand means stepping out of my cyclone. And sure, this cyclone wreaks havoc wherever it goes, but all the rubble means I don’t have to peer into the depths. I cling to chaos because when the cyclone stops, it will be time to clear all the clutter.
Be still and know that I am God.
I know that you are God. But I am just me.
Will I just hold still? Can I just hold still?
The answer is on the tip of my tongue.
///
I’m in a wrestling match with our youngest daughter. She is and always has been a dream baby: restful, joyful, full of smiles and free of fits.
Until today.
At just shy of 19 months, she has decided on a zero-tolerance nap policy. She screams in my arms and flails with such force that I’m surprised she hasn’t given herself whiplash.
A younger me would have felt defeated by this show of force. Four kids in, and this is just Tuesday. I’m unperturbed by this exhaustion-induced fit. I know the signs; her little body is on overload. She just needs rest. I know that if I hold her long enough, she will surrender. Her resistance is futile.
I sing a soft lullaby, hoping to capture her attention. She screams louder. Sighing, I switch tunes, crooning out her favorite: the theme song to a 1980’s baby songs video from my husband’s childhood that has placated all of my children in their early years. The fashion is better than the music.
For a moment, she feigns disinterest, but I can tell this tactic is working. I repeat the refrain of this song I’ve employed countless times to subdue four babies over the years. Irritating as it is, the sweet relief of the silence that follows has imbued it with a sort of Pavlov’s effect on my psyche. My body begins to relax just before hers goes quiet.
I can see her eyelids begin to droop, head lulling forward with the slight rock of our chair. The fight is gone. No longer does she push against me. My patience has paid off. The resistance is gone, and she leans in to nurse. The stiffness leaves her body, and her weight settles against me comfortably.
I move to put her down just a hair too soon, and she protests. I wait, nursing her just a few moments longer.
In the quiet shadows of her room, I raise my eyes to the heavens and sigh. I let my own body go limp.
I surrender.
God has waited me out in these fitful years of my own flailing. He says to rest and be nourished. I am ready to receive, Lord. Not as I will, but as you will.
Just don’t put me down just yet.
