Midwest Mimi

  • The Skateboard Is the Way In

    Two baskets of library books showed me what changes when learning begins with a child’s real interests. For Channing, the skateboard became the way in.

  • What Progress Actually Sounds Like

    My children did not lack the ability to learn. They lacked schools prepared to support them. This is what happened and what progress sounded like after we left.

  • When My Body Cancels the Plans

    A flare day is more than just feeling worse. It is when the systems I already use to manage chronic illness stop being enough. This is what that looks like inside a real family, and what I wish more people understood about loving someone whose body does not always cooperate.

  • 11 Ways to Disguise School as Real Life

    Kids do not all need the same path into learning. From cooking and gardening to movies, board games, special interests, and even boredom, real life is full of ways to help children learn without making everything feel like school.

  • This Wasn’t the Life I Planned. Midwest Mimi Is What I Made From It.

    I thought Midwest Mimi would be a blog about chronic illness, homeschooling, and nature. After 132 posts, I realized it had become something larger: a place to make meaning, find language for difficult experiences, and help readers feel seen.

  • The Women We Become

    Becoming Rae’s mother did not mean I stopped being my mother’s daughter. Sixteen years later, as I watch my daughter become a young woman, I understand more about what my mother gave me, what I passed on, and the women we keep becoming.

  • When Boredom Starts Looking Like Trouble

    Some minds do not do well with empty space. When there is no risk, no complexity, and no fire to put out, boredom can start looking like trouble. I am learning now that I do not need to kill the part of me that needs complexity. I need to stop feeding it poison. I need…

  • My Kids Think School Is Out. I Know Better.

    School may be out for the summer, but learning has not stopped. In our house, summer learning looks like audiobooks, gardening, chores, paid work, boredom, conflict resolution, and all the practical life skills that do not fit neatly on a worksheet.

  • Our Container Garden Became a Mystery Garden

    Our container garden started with salvaged pots, scattered seed packets, and a toddler who thought organization was optional. Now it is teaching us patience, food skills, homeschool science, and how to practice for the future before we have the land.

  • The Same Girl Either Way

    A personal essay about homeschool culture, girlhood, faith, rebellion, and learning that someone else’s narrow idea of a “godly girl” did not get to define who I was.

  • I Promised My Grandma I’d Be the One

    Printing the first draft of my middle-grade book made me realize I am closer than I thought to keeping an old promise. What started as 20,600 words on a screen became a stack of pages in my hands, carrying my grandma’s hope, my mom’s absence, my dad’s bedtime chapters, my daughter’s childhood words, and the…

  • Taking Out the Trash

    We threw out what we didn’t need when we moved. Not just things. People too. It wasn’t dramatic or loud. Just a quiet decision to stop carrying what was making our life heavier, and start building something more peaceful for our family.

  • Start Where You Are and Grow Something Anyway

    I thought I needed land to start a garden. A yard. The right setup. But all we had was a small porch, a few salvaged pots, and kids willing to get their hands dirty. So we started anyway. This is what it looks like to grow something real in a space that wasn’t built for…

  • I Didn’t Refuse Help. I Didn’t Feel Safe Accepting It.

    When I turned down Early Intervention for my daughter, it wasn’t because I didn’t love her. It was because help didn’t feel neutral. It felt like exposure. For poor parents, the line between support and scrutiny is thin.

  • Parenting Through Presence, Not Perfection: What My Kids Taught Me About Co-Regulation

    There were mornings I could feel myself going offline. Not dramatic. Just done. My patience thin, my nerves shot, my thoughts moving faster than I could hold them. Sometimes I would sit on the bathroom floor just to breathe and let the moment pass. And quietly, my kids would follow. They wouldn’t ask for anything.…