Photo by Arthur Ogleznev on Unsplash
With a lot of kids comes a lot of varied interests. The opportunities. The invitations. The shoulds. There’s an unspoken pressure to do everything and be everything for everyone.
What I know now, after being in this parenting game for a little while, is that “no” is a full sentence. You don’t need qualifiers. You don’t need to commit to everything that comes your way. Protecting your time without feeling FOMO is nearly impossible—but reminding yourself what your priorities are is always important.
Because when you have a full life—in our case, a very full house—you learn quickly that time isn’t your only limited resource. Energy is.
If you don’t guard your energy carefully, everything starts to unravel.
Now, my husband will tell you this is one of those “do as I say, not as I do” posts. As many people have seen me coaching on the soccer field either pregnant or with a child strapped to me in a carrier. So… here we go.
Energy Is a Limited Resource
Energy doesn’t operate on a neat 7 a.m. to 9 p.m. schedule every day. There are moments throughout the day that add to your energy and moments that drain it—and I’m not just talking about your morning coffee or the 3 p.m. noise level from fort-building in the other room after you’ve asked them to clean it for the fiftieth time.
Energy is physical, emotional, and mental. And once it’s gone, no amount of planning can replace it.
With six kids, a full-time job, and homeschooling, I’ve had to become a steward of energy, not just a manager of time. That means paying attention to when our family is stretched thin and being honest about what we can handle in a given season.
Time can be scheduled.
Energy has to be protected.
Not Every Child Needs the Same Thing
This was—and still is—a hard lesson for me to learn.
I used to think each kid needed an activity. Something they could do. Something that made things feel balanced. But they each have their own personalities and needs.
I have one who wants to try everything and wants to do it perfectly the first time. She’s learning that’s not real life—but that doesn’t stop her from wanting to do all the things. I have one who is very sports-focused, and one who just wants to build LEGO by himself for hours.
And yet, some of our best memories are the simplest ones.
When my husband declares it’s movie night, the Nugget cushions come out, a family bed is made on the floor, popcorn appears, and everyone takes turns picking a movie. It’s a treasured event—and also his way of reminding me that we need to slow down sometimes.
Our List Isn’t Short—But It Is Purposeful
We say no to a lot of good things.
Not because they aren’t valuable, but because saying yes to everything would cost us the things that matter most. We prioritize a short list: faith, family, meaningful relationships, and commitments we can sustain without burning out.
One of the biggest shifts for me was birthday parties.
I used to go all out—big themes, themed food, hosting friends, and maybe even a water slide bounce house (sorry to my January kid). The parties were adorable. Then we transitioned to “fiver parties,” where we said no gifts and asked for $5 to go toward one big item.
And then… I had so many kids that I realized this wasn’t where I wanted my energy spent.
So we pivoted.
We switched to birthday trips. This year, that meant a Great Wolf Lodge trip for that January kid—so yes, he finally got his water slide.
That said, with this many kids wanting to do all.the.things, we still stay busy most nights of the week.
We have hard conversations about limits. Our energy—and our wallets—only go so far. My performer was allowed one dance class this year because she wanted to focus on theater productions. When theater ends in March, she wants to go back to soccer—because she wasn’t allowed to audition for all the spring plays.
Everything is a trade-off.
Sometimes that means choosing a weekday homeschool co-op field trip over a weekend birthday party. Purposeful decisions often require intentional trade-offs.
Playing the Long Game
We’re not raising kids for this year.
We’re raising them for a lifetime.
When I zoom out, it becomes easier to let go of the pressure to optimize every moment. Character matters more than résumés. Presence matters more than productivity. And rest matters more than appearances.
I trust God more with their future than I trust my ability to curate the perfect childhood experience.
Permission to Choose Differently
If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s this: you’re allowed to choose what works for your family. You’re allowed to change your mind. You’re allowed to have seasons where your capacity looks different than it used to.
Who knows—maybe this is the year I bring back the birthday parties.
We don’t do everything.
But we do what matters.
And for us, that’s more than enough.