Soul Journey Guidance

This morning, after I dropped my son off at school, I sat in the car with so many feelings swirling in me. We had just gone through his backpack before school, squeezed in a little homework at the kitchen table, and I saw what’s coming up.

In the next few weeks, he has to write a poem and then stand in front of his class to present it. He has a book report due, which means a library trip and finding time to read an entire book on top of everything else.

And in that moment, I was pulled right back to when my older kids were in school. That same weight on my shoulders. That same struggle of juggling work, business, parenting, sports, and then—on top of it all—homework.

I’ve never liked homework. Not as a kid, not as a parent when my children were little, and not now. Because I keep asking myself: Why can’t kids have the space at school to really practice and learn what they need, instead of bringing home hours of work that spills over into family life?

Families are already juggling so much. Some are balancing three jobs just to pay rent. Others, like me, don’t have a village. I don’t have daily backup. I don’t have someone I can drop my son off with who will sit down and help with math, or someone who can pick him up from sports when I’m still at work. I don’t get child support. When I say I’m a single parent, I truly mean it.

So if my son needs tutoring, that means I have to find a way to work more hours, take on another side hustle, or hope my business brings in enough that week to cover it.

And here’s where the guilt eats at me. Because when a project isn’t finished, when a book report is late, or when homework slips through the cracks—I wonder: how are the teachers looking at him? Do they see him as lazy? Do they think I don’t care? How do the other kids see him? And most of all, how does he see himself?

Does my son start to believe he’s “not smart enough” or “not good enough” simply because his mom is stretched too thin?

The truth is, homework isn’t just about the assignment. It’s about the weight parents carry when we already feel like we’re falling short. It’s about how those missing pages or late reports can feel like reflections of our parenting, our finances, our time, our energy—all the things that are already running on empty.

And it hurts. It hurts to feel like no matter how hard you try, it’s never quite enough.

To any parent who feels this too, I want to say this: you are not alone. I see you. I feel your exhaustion, your frustration, your love that feels like it’s stretched to its breaking point.

And if your child goes to school without a perfectly polished assignment, please remember—they’re still learning, still growing, still worthy. And you are too.

Because at the end of the day, our kids won’t just remember the book reports or the poems. They’ll remember us showing up, tired but present. They’ll remember the rides, the meals, the laughter, the late-night talks, and the mornings at the kitchen table where we tried.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s the lesson that matters most.