The Hardest Goodbye: Why I Left the Classroom to Be Home With My Children
Leaving teaching wasn’t because I stopped loving my students. It was because I realized there wasn’t enough of me to give to both my classroom and my family. This is the story of the hardest decision I’ve made and the new chapter I’m creating.
LIFE & LESSONS
I always wanted to be a teacher.
Long before I understood what teaching really involved, I was the little girl who insisted on being the teacher whenever my younger sister and I played school. We had a small whiteboard, and I confidently taught her lessons that were probably full of incorrect information, but I loved every second of it.
Teaching wasn’t just a career I chose. It was the dream I had for as long as I could remember.
After high school, I attended Wright State University, where I was directly admitted into the Middle Childhood Education program. I graduated with my master’s degree and teaching license, excited to finally begin the career I had dreamed about for years.
Learning What Teaching Really Looks Like
Like many new teachers, though, I quickly realized there was a big difference between learning how to teach and actually becoming a teacher
My first few years in education were anything but predictable. I taught in multiple districts, switched grade levels, taught both ELA and math, navigated COVID, taught online, and often felt like I was constantly starting over. Every year brought a new curriculum, new expectations, and new challenges.
There were parts of teaching that I absolutely loved.
I loved building relationships with students. I loved watching the lightbulb moments when something finally clicked. I loved designing engaging lessons, discussing literature, celebrating growth, and helping middle schoolers realize they were capable of more than they believed
Those moments reminded me of why I became a teacher.
What surprised me, though, was how little of my time was actually spent doing those things.
Teaching wasn’t just teaching...
It was grading. Lesson planning. Parent emails. IEP meetings. Data meetings. Documentation. Attendance. Making copies before the copier broke. Answering hundreds of questions every day. Team meetings. Preparing for the next day before I’d even finished the current one.
I wasn’t overwhelmed because of my students.
I was overwhelmed by everything surrounding the teaching.
Then I Became a Mom
Everything changed when my daughter was born.
Returning to work after maternity leave was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
I was pumping at work, rushing home to an eight week old baby,
and trying to be fully present for both my family and my students.
No matter how hard I tried, I always felt like I was falling short somewhere.
My students got about 60% of me.
My daughter got about 30%.
My husband got whatever was left.
I wasn’t giving 100% to anyone.
I remember sitting on the couch with my laptop grading essays while my daughter walked over carrying one of her favorite books, Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?
She climbed up beside me, ready for me to stop what I was doing and read with her. Instead, I looked at my screen and said, “Just one more minute.”
One more minute to finish grading.
One more minute before I closed my laptop.
One more minute before I gave her my attention.
Looking back, I couldn't tell you what those essays were about.
But I remember telling her to wait.
Evenings became grading sessions instead of family time. Weekends became lesson planning sessions instead of making memories. By the time I got home, I was exhausted, not because I didn’t love teaching, but because there simply wasn’t enough of me to go around
I found myself relying on worksheets more often than I wanted because I didn’t have the time or energy to create the engaging lessons I knew my students deserved.
That was one of the hardest parts.
I knew the teacher I wanted to be.
I just couldn’t be that teacher while also being the mom I wanted to be.
My Twin Pregnancy Changed Everything
When I became pregnant with twins, life became even more complicated.
Toward the end of my pregnancy, I left work early because of appointments and increased monitoring. During my leave, another teacher stepped into my classroom.
At first, that was difficult to process.
Then I realized something important.
Schools keep going.
They have to.
Students continue learning.
Another teacher steps in.
That’s exactly how it should be.
But my children only get one mom.
That realization stayed with me.
I remember sitting in my classroom during my planning period, surrounded by papers to grade, lessons to plan, emails to answer and a to-do list that never seemed to get shorter.
But instead of thinking about what needed to be done, I found myself wondering what my babies were doing at daycare.
Without even thinking about it, I opened the daycare app on my phone.
There was a picture of my babies eating lunch.
I stared at that picture longer than I should have.
I hated that a photo was the closest I got to being part of their day.
That was the moment I realized something I had been avoiding for months.
I didn't want to be there.
I wanted to be home. I wanted to hear their laughter, not just about it later. I wanted to be the one reading books before nap time, making lunch, and celebrating milestones that only happen once.
The surprising part? Becoming a stay at home mom was never part of my plan.
Choosing a new path
Leaving the classroom wasn’t something I planned.
In fact, it became one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made.
I avoided telling my principal for as long as I could because saying it out loud made it real.
I’ve always been someone who gives my all to my job. I hated taking days off. I hated needing substitutes. I wanted to do my best for my students every single day.
When he finally asked if I planned to return, I admitted the truth.
No.
He was incredibly understanding, and I’m grateful for that conversation.
Between the cost of daycare for three young children and my desire to be home with them, I knew it was time to walk away.
Financially, it was scary.
It still is.
But my husband supported me every step of the way. He reminded me that our family would figure things out together and encouraged me to choose what felt right for us.
And for our family, time together became more valuable than another paycheck.
Do I Miss Teaching?
Absolutely.
I miss the conversations.
I miss watching students grow.
I miss helping reluctant readers discover books they actually enjoyed.
I miss the laughter, the inside jokes, and the moments when students realized they were capable of more than they thought.
I didn’t leave because of the kids.
I left because I no longer wanted to feel divided between two roles I cared deeply about.
And while I miss teaching, I don't miss bringing work home every weekend.
I don't miss feeling guilty no matter where I was.
A New Chapter
If you had asked me years ago what I wanted to be, I would have told you I wanted to be a teacher.
If you had asked me whether I’d ever become a stay at home mom, I probably would have laughed.
Life has a funny way of changing our dreams.
Today, I’m still teaching… just differently.
Instead of teaching in my own classroom, I create resources that help teachers save time and spend more energy doing what they love most: teaching their students.
At the same time, I'm getting to be present for the three little people who need me most.
Leaving the classroom wasn't giving up.
It was choosing something else.
And for me, that choice was worth it.
Because while my students had many teachers throughout their education…
My children only get one mom.
For me, that made all the difference.
If you've ever left a career you loved, or are considering a major life change, I would love to hear your story. Sometimes our dreams don't disappear; they simply evolve.
