Managing life with teens isn’t easy.
I should know, I have two under my roof, with two tweens close behind, and a little one bringing up the rear.

After a deep conversation with my oldest, followed by another with my husband, something hit me: The way we handle things now can either set us up for success with the younger four or create patterns that continue to hurt us all.

At 44, I’ve long accepted that perfection is a myth. Even on our best days, we’ll mess up. We’ll say the wrong thing, hurt feelings, and cause chaos we never meant to.

But what comes after the mistake? That’s where our true character shows.

Our actions, not just our words, reveal what we really believe.
They hold us accountable. Or expose our hypocrisy.
Sometimes both. Because life—especially life with teens—is messy.

Still, my deepest hopes remain:
That our children will grow up loving us.
That they’ll love each other.
That the cycles of abuse and leaving that I grew up with will finally break.
That when they have the choice on a Sunday afternoon or a random Thursday night… they’ll choose us.

Even now, when they roll their eyes at family game night, I hope someday they’ll pull out Family Trivial Pursuit or Cards Against Humanity (Family Edition) and say, “Let’s play.” And then they’ll begin roasting me because I am the worst to play games with and that’s what makes it so fun! 

So when we hit hard conversations, and there have been plenty lately, I’m doing my best to encourage them to stay.
To talk it out.
To listen before defending.
To stop trying to figure out who’s “right” and instead ask: “How do we move forward when we can’t change the past?”

As parents, how we show up in those hard moments matters more than we sometimes realize.
Our response can prove our love or prove our power. Only one of those opens the door to real connection.

Which will our kids remember?
Which will make them feel safe enough to ask for help?
Which will they carry into their own relationships someday?

These are the questions that stay with me.

Like so many families, we’ve walked through trauma and chaos. And some days, moving forward feels impossible.

But keeping the end in mind—the hope of lasting love and connection—grounds me.
It keeps my butt planted.
It keeps my mind calm.
It keeps my heart open.
It keeps our love growing deeper and truer through the hardest parts.

No, we don’t have it altogether. We still feel pain. We still have hard seasons ahead. (And believe me, I try not to think about how much harder it could get!)

But this I’m learning:
Even when we’re “right,” we can still be wrong because the words we say and how we stay matters. 

What we do next always matters. It shapes our relationships with our kids, and it shapes how they’ll relate to the people they choose to love.

In the end, what we do next—especially after the hard stuff—is what imprints on their hearts.
And in this role of “Mom,” how I help my family navigate life through the storms continues to shape not just their futures….

But ours, together.