There’s something grounding about an ordinary day and looking back at what was accomplished (or lack there of!) in this season of life. Right now, we’re in our last month of the homeschool year while learning how to do life with a newborn baby (our 5th).
Today, there’s no co-op. No field trips. No packed schedule—just a regular Thursday at home in April. These are the days that don’t look impressive on paper, but subtly shape our family life the most over the years.
We’re in a postpartum season with a newborn baby girl, so our rhythm is slower, less productive, and a little less predictable. But it’s real life— and this is what homeschooling looks like for us today.
5:30 a.m.
The baby wakes for a feeding. I sleepily head into her nursery, feed her in the dim light, and remind myself this is just a season and more sleep will come in a few months (hopefully). After a few wake-ups overnight, I decide it’s too early to start the day—and crawl back into bed while the rest of the house is quiet.
6:50 a.m.
My alarm goes off but I ignore it. My body needs the sleep more than it needs the ambition. Typically, I love waking early before the rest of the family for quiet time to pray, read my bible, have coffee, and enter into the day without distractions. But today, I’m moving slower and that’s okay.
7:30 a.m.
I finally get up when I hear little feet leaving the bedroom (they can’t rise before 7:30) so I know this is my cue to get up as well. I make my coffee, have a short prayer time, and begin the slow start to our day while my 8-year old unloads the dishwasher and begins his chores.
8:00 a.m.
The other 3 kids are still sleeping so I head to their room to drag their sleepy bodies out of bed. They start their morning chores, run their 3 laps around the house (a little routine I added especially for my energetic boys!), make their own breakfasts, and get ready for the day. It’s a later start than usual, but it fits this postpartum season.
8:30 a.m.
I wake the baby so we can get started with her day too. After a feeding, a quick bath, and getting her dressed, I make our usual peanut butter/banana/blueberry smoothies (I’ll share the recipe next week in my newsletter!) for my husband and I and head to the schoolroom to begin, while holding the baby in my arms.
9:00 a.m.
I begin school with the older kids (ages 8 and 10). My husband walks our three- and six-year-old to a nearby neighbor’s house (an older friend from our life group) for an hour of play, which is an incredible gift to give someone in a newborn season! I sit down with the big kids and we dive right in and make good use of this time, free from the usual distraction of little boys. We do math lessons, read together, spelling, and math flashcards (the essentials). I’m also holding the baby, who refuses to be put down today. One hand rocking, one hand pointing at math problems— a real balancing act and a tangible test of patience!
10:30 a.m.
The younger boys come home. We gather for our Bible lesson and snack time at the kitchen table— we read from the book of Luke about Zacchaeus and the kids reflect on what it means to “seek and save the lost”. We sing a hymn, write in our gratitude and prayer journal, then the baby starts fussing. So I retreat back to her nursery and feed her while the kids finish up their remaining schoolwork—independent reading, a final workbook page, whatever is left on their checklist (which we simplified in this slower newborn season).
11:00 a.m.
I get some one-on-one time to do school with my six-year-old (while trying to calm a fussy baby). We do a math lesson, read from his All About Reading phonics book, and race through math flashcards like it’s a fun game (anything made into a race or game is an instant motivation to get work done for this child). He’s done— and honestly, that’s enough for kindergarten.
12:00 p.m.
School wraps up for the big kids. I send them outside to jump on the trampoline while I reset the kitchen and school table a bit.
12:15 p.m.
We gather in the kitchen to chop and flash-freeze dozens of bananas for smoothies. Tomorrow, we’ll turn them into smoothie packs—one of those small systems that makes mornings smoother (which I’ll share in next week’s Notes From Home newsletter). By now, the baby is still needing to be held so I resort to wearing her in the KeaBabies wrap so I can finally have my hands free yet still provide her with sleep.
12:30 p.m.
Lunch is made entirely by my ten-year-old daughter. Today it’s mac and cheese, chicken nuggets, fruit, and veggies. Not the most healthy, but she planned it and made it start to finish—and that matters more as she’s slowly being shaped into a more capable adolescent. I have leftover chicken and veggie stew (provided by my friend who blessed us with a delicious meal earlier this week)— trying to eat soup while wearing a baby is another test of skill!
1:15 p.m.
We’re fed, cleaned up and it’s time to walk my eight-year-old to the local elementary school for his speech class. Baby in the wrap, kids on scooters. It’s a rare 90-degree April day, and I’m sweating, but grateful to be moving again at six weeks postpartum.
1:30 p.m.
We walk around town and wait while he’s in class. My body is moving slowly but it feels therapeutic with the sun on our faces and signs of spring all around.
2:15 p.m.
We’re back home. My daughter graciously helps me get the toddler down for a nap so I can sit and feed the baby again. Followed by the start of quiet time for the older kids— 30 minutes of independent reading in their own spaces, then quiet play or earned Nintendo Switch time.
2:30 p.m.
I attempt to sit and write this blog post while sipping a cold drink—but mostly end up pacing with the baby, who needs constant motion to settle. My plans can wait, I tell myself once again, this is the season I’m in— embrace it, don’t resent it.
3:00 p.m.
Still pacing. Still rocking and singing the same song in her ear. Still thinking. I sip an iced coffee and mentally draft blog ideas while trying to get the baby to sleep. I sneak in a few moments of writing but nothing substantial. The kids try to come out of their quiet time locations but are reminded of the rules and why we do afternoon quiet time (mostly because I need a little reprieve from the demands of tending their needs every other minute of the day!),
3:30 p.m.
Quiet time ends. The kids come out for snacks, do some cleaning up, and then head outside. Soon after, the sight of neighbor kids gather in the yard—a daily rhythm I’m incredibly thankful for. They find the sprinkler buried in our messy garage and set it up themselves. I’m finally able to sit while holding the baby and get this blog post drafted. Only a few more moments of quiet time until I need to wake the toddler from his nap.
4:00 p.m.
I get the toddler up from his nap and do a quick pass through the house to reset things just a bit. The rest of my writing will have to wait until another time, maybe tonight before heading to bed if all goes well with getting the baby situated.
5:00 p.m.
Another feeding for the baby and then we head out for baseball practice—all five kids with me tonight. My husband stays back to finish a work project, so it’s my turn to load everyone up and go. While I’m gone, I asked if he would reheat our dinner (again, another baby meal we were blessed with from a friend yesterday).
6:45 p.m.
We’re back home from baseball practice. Dinner is later than usual, but that’s the tradeoff when you add even one sport into the mix. We already find ourselves wondering what this will look like in a few years—whether we’ll want (or be able) to juggle multiple schedules given what we prioritize in life and family rhythms.
7:00 p.m.
We eat, then move right into evening routines since there’s not much time left to play or jump on the trampoline. Our daughter takes charge of the kitchen, which involves cleaning up dinner, washing dishes, and vacuuming the floor while the boys tackle the yard and playroom.
7:30 p.m.
PJs, potty, teeth— 3 words are all that’s needed for the kids to start the bedtime transition.
7:45 p.m.
My husband gathers the kids for an animated Bible story (this one was from Bible Brick Stories), tonight was on Jonah.
8:00 p.m.
It’s bedtime, but we have to stagger it since all 4 kids are in the same room. The two younger boys climb into bed and listen to Adventures in Odyssey. The older two kids head to their own spaces for Bible reading (currently they’re working on this Doodle Devotions for Kids) and quiet time before turning in about an hour later.
8:15 p.m.
After everyone is in their spaces, it’s just my husband, me, and the baby. We always try to guard this time together— to catch up from the day and connect. Tonight, he wears the baby in the carrier so I can rest my back and legs after a long day.
9:00 p.m.
One last feeding for the baby before I head to bed, knowing I’ll be up again in a few hours to start the cycle over again. But before turning out the light, I finish up this blog post now that the day is through. My legs and back are so tired from wearing, pacing, and rocking the baby all day long— but the aches remind me that this season is temporary, that one day she’ll no longer need me to hold her to be content. And when that day comes, I’ll likely miss the baby-wearing days.
That’s a fairly ordinary Thursday for us right now!
Looking back, I wasn’t particularly productive or efficient with my time today like I usually hope to be— but sometimes when life demands more of you (like waking at night with a baby or spending hours pacing the house to get her to sleep), you have to give yourself grace.
Right now, life is tiring, full, and the pace of life moves a little slower— but it’s rich in things that matter most. My children are well fed and healthy, they’re learning and growing in responsibility, and we all work together to quietly run the home.
This is the rhythm of our life right now. And for this season, it feels just right.
Yes, eating soup with a spoon while holding a baby is a real juggling act! The method of eating soup that I discovered was genius with a newborn (literally 2 hours old because she was born at suppertime and I was starving) is to drink it from a mug. Sometimes you can get some of the mix-ins with the broth, or once there’s less broth it’s easier finish the rest with a spoon.
This is the part of homeschooling people don’t always understand. The learning isn’t confined to the hours you’re sitting over math and reading. Making lunch, helping younger siblings, managing chores, adapting when the baby needs you, all of that is education too. Some seasons are simply more structured than others, and that doesn’t mean less learning is happening. That's beautiful mama bear, you’re doing great! Thanks for sharing this!