The Weight of Homeschool Mum Guilt

I’ve had so many moments where I’ve looked around my house and immediately started thinking about what another mum would be doing better.

Another mum wouldn’t give her children cereal for dinner. Her floors probably wouldn’t look like mine, and she definitely wouldn’t have a pile of washing sitting there for three days waiting to be folded. She wouldn’t sleep until 9:00 am on a school day because the baby had been awake through the night, forget to take the meat out of the freezer again, or lose her patience again.

Then there’s the homeschooling comparison.

Other mums seem to be doing more science experiments, baking more often and taking their children on beautiful nature walks. They’ve got organised morning baskets, creative art projects and matching lunchboxes filled with perfectly sliced fruit and crustless sandwiches. Their daughters’ hair always seems to be neatly braided, their children look organised and their homes feel peaceful.

Meanwhile, I’m looking for a missing shoe, stepping over washing and wondering whether toast counts as lunch.

I know comparison isn’t helpful, but knowing that doesn’t mean I never do it. Sometimes I look at another mum and feel as though she’s doing motherhood better than I am. She seems more organised, more patient, more creative, more energetic and somehow more on top of everything.

Before long, I’m picking apart my entire day.

I should’ve done more schoolwork. I should’ve cooked something healthier. We should’ve started earlier. I shouldn’t have lost my patience. I should’ve done the science experiment, folded the washing and brushed everyone’s hair before midday.

The list can go on forever if I let it.

But the truth is, we’re only human and sometimes something has to give.

Dinner might be cereal, school might start late and the washing might stay in the basket for another day. The children might watch more television than I’d planned, and I might lose my patience and need to apologise.

Sometimes the day simply doesn’t look anything like the one I’d pictured in my head.

That doesn’t mean I’m failing. It means I’m tired, I’m human and I’m trying to raise children while also keeping a house running, feeding everyone, teaching lessons, planning ahead, remembering appointments and simply keeping everyone alive.

It’s a lot.

I think we’re often far too harsh on ourselves for what we can’t manage during a particular stage of life. There might be seasons where we’re baking, doing experiments, keeping up with the washing and following a beautiful routine. There might also be seasons where we’re simply getting everyone through the day.

One isn’t more valuable than the other.

We’re all doing what we can with the energy, time, support and capacity we have right now. Our best won’t look the same every day, and it probably shouldn’t.

Some days, my best might look like completed lessons, a home-cooked dinner and folded washing. On other days, it might look like keeping everyone fed, loved and reasonably happy until they get tucked in for an early bedtime.

Both still count.

We need to give ourselves enough grace to get things wrong, change the routine and admit when something isn’t working. We’re allowed to start again tomorrow, and we’re allowed to grow into a new stage without expecting ourselves to have everything figured out immediately.

Our children don’t need every day to be perfect.

They need to know they’re safe, loved and wanted. They need a mum who keeps showing up even when she’s tired, who can say sorry when she gets it wrong and who can laugh when the whole day falls apart.

Sometimes cereal for dinner is just dinner.

Most of us are probably carrying around the same fear that everyone else is doing a better job, but they’re not. They’re simply living a different day, in a different home and in a different season.

So I’m learning to look at the stage we’re in and ask what my family actually needs from me today, rather than measuring myself against what someone else appears to be doing.

I’m learning to do what I can and let some things wait.

I’m learning that I can still be a good mum without doing everything perfectly.