Rewriting the Rhythm of Back to School & Birthday Season.

The start of school is around the corner, the second half of the year is here, and the shifting of energy is happening. Can you feel it? Every year around this time I get both excited for the school year to start—for the rhythm, the structure, to see the kids grow and discover a new tribe for the year, to refocus my energy—and I equally brace for impact. The lazy mornings are closing, and the energy shifts into prep mode. Fall is our busy season, especially late September and early October. After-school activities are in full swing, and it’s birthday season in our house.

This year I wanted to feel differently about September and October. They’re two of my favorite months. And yet, they give me anxiety—and not the cute kind. The mama monster kind. By the time October wraps and the last birthday is done, I feel like a shell. Declaring, yet again, that next year I’m taking September off.

So with the kids off at Pop and Bam Camp (aka camp at the grandparents) and with the help of my coach, the soul whisperer Julia Henning, I got to work reframing what I had dubbed “go time”—aka September—and began prepping the house (and myself) for a return to the fall schedule.

The first step was “The Edit.” What needs to physically go to clear space for what’s coming? Starting with a space that felt intentional and tied to my goals, I opened the playroom closet and went to town. Old games—bye. Outgrown puzzles—see ya. Crusty Play-Doh—gone. I love that closet because it gives the kids a space to create without needing help, but sometimes, you can’t even see what’s possible in the chaos. Also, this playroom is our Career and Life Journey Gua. And if you haven’t noticed, I’ve been steadily building the foundation for Chasing Lions since January. The fall is where I’m ready to add structure to the fluidity that is the business. So this wasn’t just about better flow—it became a place to intentionally leave space for growth. Instead of editing the closet to be full-but-not-full, I left literal space on the shelves for new opportunities to land. For me. For my partner. For our paths forward.

Later in the week, I added the garage (our Helpful People and Travel Gua) to The Edit. It was looking a little encampment-y after a recent camping trip, and it was dirty up in there. So, cleaned she was. This area helps us call in the right people at the right time—and who doesn’t want that kind of magic?

The edit continued: digitally, in my calendar, and emotionally. I journaled. I set boundaries. I unsubscribed from a ton of emails. And it all felt good. Therapeutic. Restoring. What started as “I think I need to edit” turned into “Wait, I have been editing.” My calendar, our things, the closets, the feelings—it’s been happening all year. I thought I was still becoming a new version of myself, but turns out, I already am her. Breakthrough moment.

With The Edit complete, I started thinking about the flow of our days and where things break down when school’s in full swing. How can we move through those times with ease instead of raw-dogging it? (My partner loves that phrase, and I know he’s reading this, so—hi babe.) Drop-off and backpack chaos were up next. That time of day is crunchy. It needed to be smooth peanut butter.

So I rearranged the playroom, made a backpack landing zone, and created a little prep station to gather items for the next day—maybe even remember the water bottles. This summer has been about independence, so that lens has been fresh on my mind. What can be lowered so the kids can reach it? What do they need permission to do on their own? What can we show them so they feel empowered? The backpack drop is our back-to-school version of the independence we’ve been building all summer.

When the kids get home, we’ll turn our attention to their rooms. We’re not buying new stuff, but we are curating their spaces to support their school-year goals. That might look like moving art around, lowering tack boards, or giving them full creative control over their beds and Squishmallow placement. It’s so important to give kids freedom of expression in their rooms. They control almost nothing else in life—so let them make their nests the way that feels best for them as they head back to school.

Now, I can’t promise I won’t fully clench when September hits—but I will notice when I do. And I’ll be able to relax. Because I’m actually prepared. We’re prepared. And maybe—just maybe—birthday season will be a breeze. With relaxed butts.

The backpack drop.