There’s a moment in parenting—usually somewhere between your third child and realizing you’ve reheated your coffee four times—when you start to question everything you thought “doing it right” looked like.
For me, that moment came during the pandemic.
I had gone from working outside the home—with three kids in daycare and one at home being watched by family—to suddenly having four kids under the age of six looking back at me with needs. The paid work I was doing hadn’t slowed down, but caring for four kids who could do next to nothing for themselves made my house look like a disaster.
The family support that once helped care for a child and do light housework felt like a ghost—showing up only in the form of a growing pile of laundry. One that I had mentally committed to ignoring.
At first, I tried to keep everything the same. But somewhere between the tears and the complete chaos around me, I realized that was unattainable.
And then the lightbulb moment hit:
Everyone was fed.
Mostly happy.
Deeply loved… even if the house didn’t reflect it.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped trying to do everything well and started focusing on doing the right things on purpose.
Because here’s what I’ve learned:
Lowering the bar doesn’t mean lowering your values.
What I’ve Lowered
Let’s just start here—because this list is long.
I’ve lowered the bar on:
What my house looks like on a daily basis
(Playroom status: daily disaster.)How often we eat a “well-balanced, home-cooked meal”
(Does Goldfish count as a meal? Sometimes… yes.)How quickly laundry gets folded (or if it gets folded at all)
(If you don’t like it, you can fold it, ignore it, or leave.)Perfect attendance at every event, activity, or social gathering
(This one still hurts sometimes.)Pinterest-level holidays, parties, and themed everything
(I eventually just stopped parties altogether—now it’s cake or cupcakes with close family.)
There was a time when I thought all of those things were markers of doing a good job.
Now I see them for what they are: optional.
Helpful sometimes. Fun occasionally. But not foundational.
What I Haven’t Lowered
This part matters more.
Because while a lot has shifted, some things haven’t moved at all.
I haven’t lowered the bar on:
How we speak to each other
How we show up for one another
Teaching my kids kindness, responsibility, and faith
Being present when it matters most
Creating a home where people feel safe, known, and loved
The outside of our life may look a little chaotic—but the inside is anchored.
That’s the difference.
The Trade-Off No One Talks About
Every “yes” costs something.
And for a long time, I was spending energy on things that looked good from the outside—but left me with very little left for what mattered most.
A perfectly clean house often meant I was short-tempered by the end of the day.
Saying yes to everything meant I was showing up halfway to a lot of things instead of fully to the right ones.
And it’s still hard.
Some days my work requires more of me than I expect, and as a result, the kids’ schoolwork is half completed or pushed to the next day. Other days, I’m able to give the kids the focus they deserve—but then I’m up until midnight answering emails and fixing spreadsheets.
Time for just me is slim—but I find pockets.
Lowering the bar in certain areas created space to raise it where it actually counts.
What This Looks Like in Real Life
It looks like:
A kitchen that’s clean enough, not spotless
Meals that are simple, repetitive, and sometimes frozen
A calendar with margin built in on purpose (still in progress)
Kids who help—even if the results aren’t perfect
(This is essential. I can’t work, homeschool, and clean up after everyone… or I’d die folding laundry while crumbs still cover the floor.)Choosing rest over one more obligation (also still a work in progress)
Riding a desk bike while listening to a webinar
Pushing a stroller around the land while taking a conference call
It also looks like letting go of the quiet comparison that creeps in when someone else seems to be doing more, doing better, or doing it all.
I often get comments like, “I don’t know how you do it,” or “You’re Supermom.”
But the reality is—I’m not doing it perfectly.
Some days I get all the work things done.
Some days the kids are done with school in 45 minutes.
Most days, neither is done perfectly.
And that’s okay.
Because more isn’t always better.
Sometimes it’s just more.
The Freedom in Letting Go
Lowering the bar in the right places doesn’t make you less of a parent.
It makes you a more present one.
It gives you room to:
Sit longer at bedtime
Listen instead of rush
Laugh instead of manage
Respond instead of react
And in a house full of people, those moments matter more than whether the floor got vacuumed.
A Gentle Reframe
What if the goal isn’t to do everything well?
What if the goal is to do the right things well—and let the rest be “good enough”?
Because “good enough” in the right areas often creates space for really good where it counts.
Permission to Lower the Right Bar
If you need permission today, here it is:
You are allowed to let some things go.
You are allowed to choose connection over perfection.
Presence over productivity.
Peace over pressure.
Lower the bar where it doesn’t matter.
Hold the line where it does.
And trust that your kids will remember how your home felt far more than how it looked.