The First Day I Let Go a Little More

Today was our son’s first day of Pre-K at the elementary school.

Back at the beginning of the summer, I had pictured this day so differently. My goal was to have him enrolled in a homeschool program—something gentle and flexible, filled with hands-on projects, nature walks, and the kind of freedom I always thought was “best.” I imagined us learning side-by-side, him soaking up letters and numbers while I got to be there for every little discovery.

But somewhere between the vision and the reality, I started to feel the weight.

This summer was full. My plate wasn’t just full—it was spilling. And while my heart still loved the idea of homeschooling, my life was whispering something I didn’t want to admit: You need to set something down.

Here’s the thing—moms carry a silent pressure to somehow “do it all” and do it perfectly. If the meal plan falls apart, if the laundry piles up, if the schooling doesn’t go exactly how we imagined… it’s so easy to interpret that as failure. We tell ourselves, If I were really a good mom, I could juggle it all and make it look effortless.

But that’s not the truth.

Sometimes the most loving thing we can do for our family is to take something off the list—not add more to it. Sometimes it’s admitting that the “just right” we imagined isn’t actually what our family needs right now.

So here we are. Not in the homeschool program I dreamed up, but walking hand-in-hand into a little classroom at the elementary school. And you know what? It’s okay.

It’s okay that my motherhood looks different than the mom who homeschools, or the mom who works full-time, or the mom who somehow manages to juggle it all without breaking a sweat. It’s okay that I needed margin more than I needed control.

While he’s at school, I can still be deeply involved in his life. I can pray over him in the mornings before he heads out—asking God to give him courage, kindness, and wisdom in every moment. I can be his safe place at the end of the day, the place where he can unpack everything he’s seen, heard, and felt. I can listen to his stories, help him process his questions, and remind him of who he is and Whose he is.

I can pour into him at home so that when he’s at school, he carries that light with him—becoming a force for good, a friend to the lonely, a helper to those in need, and a joy in his classroom.

And he gets the joy of building relationships with wonderful teachers and staff, people who will invest in him in ways that complement what we give him at home. He’ll have friends to play with, mentors to guide him, and a whole community cheering him on.

This shift also gives me space to pursue things that matter to me—passions, callings, and work that fuel me and make me a better mom. And it’s okay to feel excited and grateful for this time. It’s okay to embrace the gift of a little breathing room and trust that he is right where he’s meant to be.

Because letting go of “doing it all” doesn’t make me less. It makes me more present for the things I am doing.

So today, I watched him walk through those school doors, and I felt peace. Peace because I know this is right for us in this season. Peace because my worth as a mom is not measured by how much I can juggle.

And maybe—just maybe—this is another way of giving him my best: by giving him a mom who isn’t spread so thin she disappears.

And Mama—wherever you are today, this is for you.

Maybe you’re sending your baby off to school for the very first time. Maybe you’ve been homeschooling for years. Maybe you’re in the messy middle, trying to figure out what works for your family this year.

No matter your choice, it doesn’t make you more or less of a “good mom.” The goodness isn’t in the method—it’s in the love, the intentionality, and the way you keep showing up.

If your kids are at home with you, you’re doing holy work in the everyday rhythms. If your kids are at school, you’re still shaping their hearts and minds in powerful ways. You’re the steady presence, the safe place, the one whose voice and prayers echo in their hearts long after they leave your side.

So release the pressure to get it “just right” in every area. Let go of the weight of comparison. And remember: the best thing you can give your children is not a perfectly crafted plan—it’s you, whole and present.

You are doing enough.You are loving them well.And you, Mama, are exactly what they need.

A Prayer for Our Children

Father, thank You for the gift of these precious little lives. Today I lift my child to You and ask for Your covering over their heart, mind, and steps. Give them courage to stand for what is right, compassion to see and serve those in need, and joy that overflows into every space they enter. Surround them with wise teachers, kind friends, and moments that help them grow in character and faith. And Lord, remind me daily that You love them even more than I do, and that You are with them when I cannot be. Amen.

"Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it." — Proverbs 22:6