I Don’t Pray for My Kids to Be Extraordinary

I spent most of my twenties chasing “extraordinary.”

The ladder.
The titles.
The constant proving.
The being seen.
The being chosen.
The endless reaching for a version of myself that always stayed one rung out of reach.

And the wildest part?
Even when I got the things I thought would make me feel extraordinary… it never felt like enough.
There was always someone doing more, earning more, achieving more, sacrificing more.

It took motherhood and stripping my identity down to its simplest layers to realize I don’t want that life for my kids.

Not even close.

I don’t pray for extraordinary children.

I pray for children who feel safe in their own skin.
Who don’t need applause to feel worthy.
Who don’t chase achievement just to fill a void.
Who don’t crumble under the pressure of being “the best” at anything.

I don’t want them striving for stars they were never meant to hold.
I don’t want them feeling like failure because they didn’t become world-changing, brilliant, flawless versions of someone else’s dreams.

I want their life to feel soft.
Slow.
Effortless in the ways that matter.

I want them to be happy with simple things like sunlight through a window, dinner at the table, laughter that fills a room.
I want them to measure the quality of their life by how they feel, not what they achieve.
By the relationships they nurture.
By the confidence that comes from knowing they created a life they actually enjoy living.

The truth is:
Material things do not create lasting happiness.
Confidence does.
Connection does.
Purpose does.
Community does.

And maybe this is the part that feels full-circle for me:

Building my Etsy shop taught me this.

Not because it made me “successful.”
But because it gave me something that was mine. Something I built in the quiet corners of my life, during nap times and late nights, with reheated coffee and tiny pockets of time.

It gave me confidence I never had when I was chasing titles.
It gave me freedom I never felt when I was climbing ladders.
It gave me the ability to be both fully present in motherhood and fully myself.
It gave me simplicity.
It gave me peace.
It gave me joy that wasn’t tied to performance or perfection.

When I think about what I want for my kids, it isn’t extraordinary.

It’s exactly this:

A life that feels like theirs.
A life that feels enough.
A life that feels soft, steady, grounded, and deeply, quietly happy.

If I succeed at anything in this life, I hope it’s raising children who never feel like they have to be extraordinary to be worthy.

And if you’re a mom reading this who is caught in that quiet tug-of-war between wanting to feel valuable and wanting to be present...please hear this:

Being home raising babies is one of the most unrecognized, deeply extraordinary things you will ever do.
Not because you’re praised.
Not because there’s a paycheck or a promotion.
Not because anyone is clapping for you.

But because you are shaping the next generation of humans who will walk into this world with kindness, confidence, and groundedness that came directly from you.
Your work is invisible to the world, but not to the people who need you most.

And if you’re craving something that’s yours, something that brings back your confidence, your creativity, your identity outside of motherhood, there is space for that too.

You don’t need to choose between purpose and presence.
You can build something gentle, flexible, and meaningful right alongside raising your babies.

If you want a place to start, here’s my free Etsy Kickstart Guide. It was created for moms who want to build something of their own in the small pockets of time that already exist.

Download the Free Etsy Kickstart Guide