What I was finding was that mothering wasn’t aligning with my way of life.
And that’s the key to mothering from a rooted space, in my opinion.
Mothering needs to feel expansive. There needs to be a sense of growth. There needs to be flexibility (for the mother, I mean).
To be constantly burning out, on the back foot, feeling mum guilt, and losing our identity along the way—that ain’t it.
And I spend time holding mothers who feel exactly like this.
To be leading from a rooted space.
To be leading from a space of co-regulation.
I.e. regulating together.
That’s the gift.
What I found was that I was beginning to lose my grip on my early parenting days.
I’m someone who adored toddler life. I found my relationship with my children flowed.
I first noticed the fragmented relationship with my daughter, Xanthe.
Xanthe and I are still in a season of repair.
The screaming, the grief, the exhaustion, the frustration she felt for so long was downplayed in favour of slotting her into a scenario that wasn’t actually working for us.
Not just not working for her.
It wasn’t working for any of us.
And to align us all is the only way we will flow.
There are five of us in the house, and we need to feel cohesive.
There needs to be a rhythm, and it needs to feel like there’s a net catching us all.
A net catching you as a mother.
Clients often ask me how I can give so much of myself to tend to them. I always explain that I feel so tended to outside of the spaces we create together.
I feel so fucking tended to.
And I don’t always do this through another space holder. That adjusts depending on the season I’m in.
It’s my ability to tend to myself. To co-regulate with my children and my husband.
It’s the tools I use for myself.
I feel ever so grounded, whole, and compassionate, but at the same time, badass.
So fucking badass for being able to spin it all.
To spin, hold, and navigate the dance.
The sometimes messy, sometimes gentle, sometimes joyous creation of life with my immediate family.
Because in a fucked-up world—and it is fucked-up in so many ways—
In a world where my child goes to a party and returns telling me all about AI via ChatGPT (“You know, I asked it to do a poo, Mummy, and it said it couldn’t because it’s a device”*)
*Not me trying to explain how amazing and yet environmentally destructive AI is.
I can come back to my family. I can bring into my home exactly what is needed.
And there came a time when there were no more excuses.
I journalled for years about what my ideal life looked like.
Spent days apart from my children, creating space for myself—only to realise I needed to be closer to them.
I’m obviously going to chat about taking my children out of mainstream education.
And I like to do a PSA—this isn’t just about that.
And it isn’t a promotion of that.
It also isn’t the answer for everyone.
I truly believe that the reason home-ed life (unschool life) is working so well is because it aligns with my life as it is.
My work is erratic. I don’t have a set schedule. I don’t have to be at work. I navigate self-employed, messy AF life. Yet I was having to be on a schedule for school. And my work had to come when they were home from school.
For some mothers, they work in the day and see their children after school or at least in the evenings. Mine were at school all day, and then I was still having to squeeze work in after 5pm, into the evenings and the weekends.
So yeah, I think this dance also needs to work.
What needs to actually work is aligning with your parenting wishes even if there’s push back even if society believes this isn’t it.
I’m also interested in how my husband and I align in our approach to parenting.
How the ‘go against the grain’ vibe we seem to have adopted as a couple works with our parenting style.
I’m also interested in how our own home/school blueprint impacts the choices we make for our children.
Both Ali and I lack self-esteem—I now realise I lack more than him, as per a previous post.
School impacted Ali and I greatly.
Ali was boarded from the age of 7 and has spent years unpicking that.
I spent years being behind in class and struggling through school while also being bullied and navigating major friendship challenges.
It’s 2025, and when I went to babysit a neighbour’s children, they couldn’t wait to tell me about a girls’ fight on the playground, where the rest of the girls huddled around cheering it on.
The girl in the middle was a mirror of me. I was often fighting other girls who were, in my opinion, not true to what it means to be kind.
Yes, I was quiet—but when I saw something I didn’t believe in, I got heavily involved and was often left freefalling because no one would back me. Why would you go against the popular girl?
She’s in Year 4.
I can’t shelter my children from the world.
But I would love for them to be children for as long as possible.
Which is really fucking hard.
There was a recent video I watched with one of my favourites (as we all enter the week of Bridget Jones landing in cinemas).
We had a full-on weekend of socialising.
I asked them what they wanted to do today, as normally we have home-ed families round for Monday Club.
They said they wanted a quiet day.
My day began by tending to a postnatal mama, while they found library books, played, and had breakfast—getting ready for the day with their favourite music, colouring, and vibes.
When I returned, we took our packed lunches to the library and returned 4,566 books, only to take out 5,697 more. God bless our Home Education library card.
Once home, they continued reading while I made myself lunch. Xanthe napped.
When Xanthe woke an hour later, I asked how her nap was:
“Perfect.”
Incredible news.
We were filing their artwork into their folders, and I was drinking tea.
Then we played Uno for ages.
Now they’re watching a film while I write and work.
People see us out and comment on how wholesome it seems.
It’s not always perfect.
But we are dancing together.
And this aligns for us all so much better.
As a result, our relationships have shifted again—positively.
What I adored seeing yesterday was that they all checked in and honoured rest.
They said ‘no’ and rested.
Today, they didn’t run around the house.
They rested.
And in a society that prioritises burnout, that’s a huge life lesson.
I didn’t know what rest was until my late 20s.
As a person, because of my colourful journey to this point, my priorities as a mother have shifted.
Yes, they will clearly not be at the same level as their school friends in maths rn.
But to know how to say no and rest? That’s amazing.
To feel free and spirited? That’s where I’m at.
At a 40th, when all the children were getting in the hot tub, one of my twins presumed we’d brought a swimsuit when we asked for them to pack their swimsuit- classic.
She was like—no bother, guys—I’ll just nip in under a towel and no one will care.
While my son started Year Two and suddenly refused to get changed under a towel when we were at the beach.
For me, there are these tiny random seeds of hope and joy that aren’t everyone’s priorities.
So I dance with our needs through the tools that carry us towards a more aligned way of living.
It’s about that. About aligning. About shifting against the narratives presented to us. About going against others’ grains.
And this feels so cathartic.
To come back to my lioness era. Feeling more rooted. Feeling that more fuck you energy because I’m doing it my way.
Which ain’t perfect, hun.
But we feel more aligned with it all.
Right now.
Much love,
Naomi x