It’s not just about giving something fun or educational; it’s about giving a gift that connects. When you give a picture-smart child a design kit, you’re saying, “I notice your eye for beauty.” When your logic-smart child gets a puzzle or STEM science kit, you’re saying, “I value the way you think.” And when your body-smart kid gets a new soccer ball, you’re saying, “I get what makes you come alive.”

How do we, who are often juggling our own deadlines and caffeine levels, create a morning rhythm that builds connection and confidence without overwhelming ourselves?

Character age is the real-world metric for readiness. Your child might be 16 and technically allowed to drive, but if they’re impulsive and irresponsible, it’s not safe. The same goes for phones, freedom, and even friendship circles.

Fewer kids are reading. According to recent data, nearly 1 in 3 thirteen-year-olds say they never or hardly ever read for fun. That number was only 8% in 1984.

It may be helpful for us as parents to stop measuring holiday “success” by smiles and small talk and instead to measure it by how we’re preparing and equipping our kids on what to expect by affirming their strengths and giving them courage and confidence for the unpredictability of real relationships.

The word “thankfulness” originally came from the word “thinkfulness.” Isn’t that beautiful? Gratitude begins when we slow down enough to think clearly.

The next time your child pushes back and says, “You don’t trust me,” you can say gently, “It’s not just about you. It’s about all of us. And it’s because I do trust you that we’re walking through this together.”

Our kids don’t need all the answers. But they do need the courage to ask good questions and the confidence to wrestle through them. When we slow down, show up, and push them to think, we’re not just teaching skills; we’re shaping identity.

Reading isn’t just for school. It teaches focus. It builds empathy. It helps children hold onto ideas, rehearse what’s true, and develop a view of the world that goes beyond the scroll of a screen.

You may not hit 100 affirmations a day. But you can hit one that matters. Your words have power, speak life, shape identity, and help your kids grow up secure in who they are and Whose they are.

Parents often tell their kids, “Put your phone down and go outside.” But inside many homes, the glow of screens reflects something deeper: our children are learning their tech habits from us.

“Kids come home with a full heart and a full head,” says Dr. Kathy Koch. “They’ve talked all day, followed rules they didn’t make, sat through subjects they didn’t choose. Then they walk in the door and we immediately ask for more words.”

Even if families seem unaffected, children notice tone, tension, and shifts in their routines. In these moments, parents become the first line of security, not by solving every crisis, but by being steady when everything else feels unpredictable.

dDn’t just drill, connect, repeat, and wonder. When Dr. Kathy Koch read the study, she smiled big.

Every parent wants their child to succeed, but we forget that kids learn to walk by falling. We don’t see them tumble and say, ‘Well, I guess they’ll never walk.’ We cheer, because every fall is part of progress.

For many, success looks like good grades, hard work, and confidence. Those are good things. But if we stop there, we risk raising kids who know how to achieve but not how to live.

Gaming isn’t evil; it’s a mirror. It shows us where our kids are finding their worth. Even the rich young ruler struggled with this. His sense of self came from what he could control and achieve. Jesus offered him freedom through surrender.

A recent study published by the Journal of the American Medical Association found that children ages 9–13 who spent more time on social media performed significantly lower on tests of reading, memory, and vocabulary than their peers who used little or none.

Math is more than memorization or mastery; it’s discipleship in order. When kids learn math, they’re practicing the discipline of faith: believing there’s structure, beauty, and truth even when it’s hard to see.