Oh the middle school years. You hear such intimidating things about these parenting during these years and I get why. There is something about this season that feels… tender.
Not in the soft baby-cheeks-and-bedtime-books way. Not in the sticky-fingers-and-playdates way. But in a stretching, shifting, becoming kind of way.
Parenting middle schoolers is different. And what’s surprised me most is how different it is not just from the early years — but how different it is for each of my own children.
That has been one of the biggest lessons for me lately.
The Season of Parenting Middle Schoolers
It’s So Different for Each Child
I naively assumed that once I “figured out” middle school with one, I’d have it down.
Ha.
One needs reassurance before trying something new.
One needs space to process and then quietly circles back with thoughtful questions.
One thrives with structure and clear expectations.
One blooms when given flexibility and ownership.
It has reminded me (again) that parenting is less about mastering a phase and more about staying curious about the child in front of you.
.
They Need Me More… But Differently
In some ways, they need me more than they did in elementary school.
But not for hovering. Not for fixing. Not for orchestrating every detail.
They need me nearby.
Available.
Calm.
They need gentle recommendations when a new challenge pops up — navigating friendships, managing time, handling disappointment, figuring out who they are becoming.
Sometimes it’s just a well-timed, “Have you thought about…?”
Or, “What do you think would happen if…?”
Less directing. More guiding.
I’m learning to feel out the times they want and need me close and times they’d prefer more of an independent attempt first. And I’m learning that restraint — not rushing in to solve — is often the harder, but better, choice.
They Are Watching More Than Ever
This part has me doing a lot of evaluation of my own habits and daily structure.
I feel like I need (and genuinely want) to be more plugged in to our day-to-day life right now. Because they notice. They are watching how I spend my time.
Not in an obvious, critical way. But in a quiet, unconscious mirroring way.
If I prioritize moving my body, they want to move theirs.
If I step outside for fresh air, they follow.
If I find the positive, they do, too.
If I read, they curl up with a book.
If I sit and scroll… well, they see that as well.
It’s a reminder that the rhythms I create in our home matter more than any lecture I could give.
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Watching Confidence Grow (and Wobble)
There are moments that make my heart swell.
And moments that make it ache.
It’s hard to watch them navigate situations where they aren’t instantly confident. I see how wonderful they are — their humor, kindness, talent, creativity — and I want the world to see it too. I want them to walk into every room fully aware of how absolutely amazing they are.
But confidence doesn’t grow because I tell them they are.
It grows when they try.
When they risk.
When they stumble.
When they recover.
Sometimes that means I sit back and let them feel awkward. Or unsure. Or disappointed.
That part is not easy.
But I’m realizing that my job isn’t always to clear the path — it’s sometimes just to walk alongside them as they learn to navigate it themselves. As a fixer, that can be hard for me.
The Emotional Swings
Whew.
There can be big emotional swings in this stage and again, it surprises me how the degree of it all can be so very different for each child.
Big joy. Big frustration. Big tears. Big laughter.
Sometimes all in the same afternoon.
I’ve learned not to overreact to the highs or the lows. Feelings move through quickly if I don’t panic and try to control them.
What they often need is steadiness.
A soft place to land.
Someone who doesn’t take the mood personally.
And when the clouds pass? They are so much fun.
Truly.
They are witty and insightful and capable of conversations that surprise me. They can debate ideas, share opinions, and bring up perspectives I hadn’t considered. We laugh deeply and we connect in new ways.
It feels like getting a little flashes of the adults they are slowly on their way to becoming and I’m so humbled and grateful to get to be their mom through this season.
Am I Teaching Them Enough?
This question sneaks in more than I expected.
Am I teaching them enough academically?
Are we covering what we need to cover?
Are they prepared?
But beyond school —
Am I teaching them enough about life skills?
About managing money?
About cooking?
About relationships?
About the world beyond?
The responsibility can feel heavy if I let it.
But then I remind myself: learning is not a checklist. It’s a rhythm. It’s layered. It’s ongoing. It’s modeled just as much as it’s taught. And it doesn’t have an end date.
And maybe the most important things they’re learning right now are less about facts and more about formation.
How to think.
How to respond.
How to regulate.
How to recover.
How to be kind.
How to work hard.
How to try again.
This Season Feels Sacred
Parenting middle schoolers feels like standing in the in-between.
They are not little.
They are not grown.
They still reach for us — but differently. (Well, I have one that still reaches for me the same and wants constant snuggles and I’ll soak that up for as long as I can!)
It’s a season that asks for presence, guidance, and modeling over control or perfection.
It stretches me in the best ways. And even with the emotional swings, the questions, and the moments of doubt — I genuinely love it. I am so grateful for this season.
If you’re in this phase too, I’d love to know: what has surprised you most about parenting middle schoolers?
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