Sometimes it feels like your household is just one missed snack away from mutiny. Someone’s pouting in the corner, someone else is suddenly “allergic” to chores, and your brain is playing its greatest hits: “Did I switch the laundry?” “What did I walk into this room for?” and “Was that noise…a cat or a child?” Welcome to the season we’ve been living in.
Recently, we hit a wall. Lucy—our joyful, imaginative, spark-of-light child—was turning moody and stormy more often than usual. It was like her feelings were doing laps around the emotional Olympics. And Anderson—our thoughtful, funny, strong-willed tween—got caught in a pattern of being, well…creatively dishonest about things like workouts and homework. Small lies. But they add up, and worse than that, they chip away at trust.
It’s easy to let these moments snowball. You react. They react. You lecture. They tune out. Everyone’s stuck in the same emotional tumble cycle, and no one’s coming out clean.
So we hit pause. We reevaluated. We prayed, breathed, and regrouped.
And we realized—it wasn’t just about chores or moods or missed assignments. It was about connection.
For Anderson, instead of throwing more rules at the problem, we decided to make space for him to step into ownership. Even though he already has a list of daily responsibilities, I noticed him doing more than what was required. One evening, he asked me if I wanted him to clean the counters “just because he thought it would help out.” (Cue my heart melting.) Later that week, I asked if he knew where something was and—without hesitation—he named its exact location. Why? Because he had vacuumed that room earlier and remembered. He knew where something was because he did the work to make it clean. Let me tell you, I saw a lightbulb go off for both of us. He was proud, and I was floored—in the best way.
And then there’s Lucy. We realized we’d been showing up to her big feelings with half-full tanks—our own stress, to-do lists, and grown-up hurdles clouding our energy. So we made an intentional shift. We decided to meet her where she is—with joy, presence, and enthusiasm. To drop our baggage at the door, and lean in fully to what she is excited about.
I started making time to just be with her. Tea party style. Face to face, no multitasking, no half-hearted nods while checking emails. Just listening. Looking into her eyes. Laughing with her. Getting swept up in the wonder of her stories. And you know what? It’s working. She’s calmer. Less reactive. More regulated. Because she feels seen. And honestly? So do I.
These moments remind us of something crucial:
You’re never too far gone to press reset.
Whether it’s chore charts, attitude checks, or just taking a deep breath and deciding today is a new day—you set the tone. And when you reset with love, intention, and a little humor along the way, your kids will feel it. They’ll rise to meet you. And the home? It starts to hum again, just a little more peacefully.
Raising Light 