Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about this idea that our children are truly our greatest legacy. And the more I sit with it, the more peace I actually find in it, not because I think I’m doing it perfectly (I’m definitely not), but because it reminds me what really matters in this crazy thing we call life. Not the schedules, not the routines, not how productive or put-together I look on any given day, but the tiny humans I've been raising and the relationship I’m building with them along the way.
My oldest will be 17 soon, and my youngest just turned 13, and honestly, sometimes I look at them and wonder how on earth time moved so fast. I’ve been a stay-at-home mom, a working mom, a single mom, and now a co-parent in a blended family with a wonderful, caring stepdad in their lives. Together, my kiddos and I have lived through all the versions, the baby years, the chaotic toddler years, the school years, the tween years, and now these big, emotional, eye-opening teenage years, and all while I’ve been growing and changing too.
Their dad and I separated, and that chapter taught me so much about resilience, grief, rebuilding, and trusting myself again. There were seasons where everything felt heavy, uncertain, and messy, and seasons where I felt strong, independent, and proud of how far we’d come. And through it all, my kids have been right there, growing, adapting, learning, feeling, becoming. We’ve all been on our own personal journeys at the same time, just in vastly different stages.
The truth is, none of us are perfect parents, and our kids aren’t perfect either. And honestly? I think that’s exactly the point. We’re learning together in real time. We mess up, we get tired, we lose our patience sometimes, we say the wrong thing, we have moments we wish we could redo. But we also repair. We apologize. We grow. We soften. We love deeper than we ever knew we could. And it’s in all of that, the imperfect, human, emotional stuff, well, that is where the real growth actually happens.
I think so many of us carry this quiet pressure into motherhood and parenthood to “get it right.” To not mess them up. To be calm, present, regulated, patient, fun, nurturing, inspiring, all at once, every day. And when we fall short (because of course we do), it’s so easy to turn that into self-criticism. To feel like we’re not enough. Like we’re behind. Like everyone else, we have some secret manual that we missed. But what if the goal was never perfection? What if the real work is just showing up as we are, tired, learning, growing, trying, and letting our kids see what it looks like to be a human having a human experience? What if the greatest thing we’re actually teaching them is how to navigate life with compassion, self-forgiveness, emotional honesty, and love?
Because one day, these little people will grow into big people. And they’ll do the same thing we’re doing right now, trying their best, raising their own humans, learning as they go, making mistakes, loving deeply, and figuring it all out in real time. And what they’ll carry with them isn’t whether we had everything perfectly together, it’s how safe they felt with us, how seen they felt, how loved they felt, and how they learned to treat themselves when things weren’t perfect.
So I’m really trying to remind myself of this on the hard days. On the loud days. On the overwhelming days. This is the work. This is the legacy. And it’s okay that it’s messy. It’s okay that I’m still learning. It’s okay that some days feel like growth and other days feel like survival. We’re not failing. We’re not doing it wrong. We’re simply just humans, raising humans, and to me, that just might be the most important work there is.
Cheers,
Coach Jo <3
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