When Homeschool Moms Make It Too Easy

Audio By Carbonatix

I’ve been reading a book I never expected to pick up: Not by Chance by Dr. Tim R. Thayne. It was written for parents of teens walking through hard seasons. Then I got to Chapter 4. There’s a section he calls the “Over-accommodation Waterfall.” And friend, it nailed me.

“Sometimes in their desire to find solutions, parents become too accommodating.” — Chapter 4, p. 140

Thayne tells the story of Corinne, a 13-year-old whose parents moved her to three new schools in one year because her tearful speeches convinced them she simply couldn’t stay where she was.

“By over-accommodating her unreasonable demands, they were letting her dodge responsibility and stunting the growth she would have experienced had they insisted she stay where she was and work through the social and academic issues.” — Chapter 4, p. 140

Lowering the Bar, One Child at a Time

Now, I don’t have a Corinne. But I sure do have three youngest children I’ve been making life too easy for. When I first started homeschooling more than 30 years ago, I had no idea what I was doing. I just knew God was calling me to teach my kids at home. After John and I graduated our first three from homeschool high school, we started all over again with six more kids. And somewhere along the way, our expectations lowered with each kid.

I even taught multiple classes at our homeschool co-op myself—just so I could teach them the way they learned best. Sounds noble, right? It was rescue. Then came the line that stopped me cold:

“Remember to prepare the child for the path, not the path for the child.” — Chapter 4, p. 140

I’ve been out there paving the path, smoothing it, lighting it—when God asked me to prepare the child. And this one:

“As parents, we are programmed to want to see our kids succeed, but often we are so anxious to see it happen that we lower the bar to a level that they can too easily sail over.” — Chapter 4, p. 141

Lowered the bar. With each child. Yep—that’s me.

I Handed My Kids the Rescue Radio

Thayne has another image I can’t shake: the “rescue radio.” He writes that:

“Some parents unwittingly provide their teens with a ‘rescue radio’ of their own, preventing their teens from learning new coping skills, acquiring personal awareness or taking on responsibilities.” — Chapter 3, “Ready to Roll,” pp. 89–90

I handed my kids the radio. And I answered every call. Forgotten co-op lunches? I was suddenly in my “Mom Uber” era—no five stars, just five kids. Laundry emergency? I became a stain-fighting ninja. Kids whining? Let me perform a full-blown therapy session in the cereal aisle. In my head, I was winning at mom life. In reality, I was exhausted. And my kids weren’t learning to handle much of anything on their own.

It was actually my health coach who gently pointed it out. I was so busy being everyone’s hero that I’d stopped caring for myself. When I started stepping back—supporting my people but letting them do the work—something wild happened. It turns out, when kids realize their socks don’t fold themselves, they learn to fold socks.

What Scripture Says About Hard Things

"Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing." —James 1:2–4 (NLT)

If I keep rescuing them from every hard thing, I’m robbing them of the very troubles God wants to use to grow their endurance. I’ve actually seen this work in our homeschool—when I let it. 

As a writer, I know the blank page can feel terrifying. So when my kids groaned during writing time, my first instinct was to jump in and fix it. But I learned that the better gift was to say, “You don’t have to write well right now. You just have to write something.” 

Sometimes they’d tell me their story out loud first, and then copy it in their own handwriting. I’d celebrate every few sentences with “I’m proud of you for not giving up.” I didn’t write it for them. I helped them push through.

Now, I want to be careful here. There have been seasons in our home—after bringing home a sibling group through adoption, after trauma, through grief—when slowing down was exactly the right thing to do. Rest and healing aren’t rescue. If big emotions are happening, kids can’t learn, and that’s okay. But there’s a difference between pausing for healing and permanently lowering the bar because pushing through feels hard—for them, or for me.

Years after one of our hardest seasons, one of my daughters told me, “I don’t remember the science lessons, Mom. But I remember you praying when we didn’t know what to do.” Our kids learn endurance by watching us face hard things with God—not by watching us remove every hard thing from their path.

What I’m Changing in Our Homeschool

Here’s what I’m changing—and maybe it’ll encourage you too:

1. Raise the bar back to a godly height. Clear expectations. Real consequences. Privileges that are earned, not assumed. My kids are more capable than my fears tell me.
2. Turn off the rescue radio. Let them sit in the hard math lesson and the tough essay. Struggle is a teacher, and I need to stop interrupting her class.
3. Prepare the child for the path. Instead of rearranging the curriculum for the tenth time, teach perseverance—the skill they’ll actually need in life.
4. Be a coach, not a hero. Support them, cheer for them, and then let them do the work.
5. Check my motive. Love says, “I believe you can do this.” Rescue says, “Let me do it for you.” One builds them up; the other keeps them small.

I’m not writing this because I’ve figured it out. I’m writing it because a book about parenting struggling teens held up a mirror, and the homeschool mom staring back needed to see it.

Reflection Questions

1. Where have I been preparing the path instead of preparing the child?
2. What would raising the bar back to a godly level look like in our homeschool this week?
3. Which “rescue radio” do I need to turn off—and what will I do instead of answering it?
4. Is this a season that truly calls for a pause, or have I been lowering the bar because pushing through feels hard for me?

A Prayer for Over-Accommodating Homeschool Moms

Lord, forgive me for the times I’ve rescued when You were trying to grow. Give me the courage to let my children struggle well, the wisdom to know the difference between helping and hovering, and the faith to believe You are shaping them through the hard things. Help me prepare them for the path—and trust You with the rest. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Additional Resources

Running on Empty Isn’t Your Calling — If you’ve been pouring yourself out rescuing everyone, Alice Crider and I wrote this book for you. With humor and real-life stories, we unpack the martyrdom myth in motherhood and share practical ways to care for your soul and well-being without neglecting your kids. Releasing April 6, 2027. Preorder your copy here.

Homeschool Basics — Kristi Clover and I share tried-and-true advice to help you homeschool from the heart. Get Homeschool Basics here.

Join Me in Prague in August 2027! — Want to give your kids a hands-on adventure that stretches them? The 2027 Prague Experience includes a Homeschool Experience that brings history, literature, culture, and faith to life for your family. Join the priority list here.

Quotes from Not by Chance by Dr. Tim R. Thayne, Ch. 4 (pp. 140–141) and Ch. 3 (pp. 89–90). Scripture quotation from the New Living Translation (NLT).