Finding the Balance: A Principal, a Mom, and the Beautiful Chaos in Between

As an assistant principal at a high school of over 1,500 students in grades 10 through 12, there is no such thing as a “slow season.” Right now, our spring play is in full swing, spring sports are buzzing, and every hallway seems to carry the energy of a school that never truly sleeps. I’m supervising events fairly consistently, helping seniors navigate their final push toward graduation, and juggling the day-to-day unpredictability that comes with this job.

And when the final bell rings? I’m off to coach my daughter Bexlee’s softball team, cheer for my son Kixsen from the sidelines of his latest soccer or baseball game, or help with math homework at the kitchen table. Bexlee is 8, Kixsen is 7, and both are involved in more activities than I can count. My husband, Cameron, is also an assistant principal—at the middle school that feeds into my high school. Between the two of us, we juggle two demanding careers, two active kids, one chaotic shared Google Calendar, and a home that’s never quiet—but always full.

I’ve come to deeply understand something I used to only talk about in theory: the importance of work-life balance.

It’s easy in education—especially in leadership roles—to let work creep into every corner of your life. There’s always another email to answer, another supervision assignment, another student or staff member who needs you. It’s fulfilling, meaningful work. But if we’re not intentional, it can consume us.

I’ve learned (often the hard way) that creating boundaries isn’t selfish—it’s necessary. I’ve learned to say no to certain things, so I can say yes to the most important ones. I’ve learned that missing a meeting to make it to my daughter’s game isn’t just OK—it’s essential. I’ve learned that taking time to be a mom, a wife, and even just me, makes me a better assistant principal.

What I’ve also discovered is that our students benefit when we model balance. They’re watching us. When they see us prioritize family, health, and rest, they learn to do the same. When I talk to students about managing stress or making healthy choices, I want to speak from a place of authenticity—not burnout.

There’s no perfect formula, and I certainly don’t have it all figured out. Some weeks feel like a whirlwind, and I rely a little too heavily on drive-thru dinners and coffee refills. But I also see the joy in a student taking a bow on stage, the pride in my daughter’s face after a great hit, and the sleepy hug from my son after a long day. Those are the moments I treasure.

So to my fellow educators, parents, and busy professionals: give yourself permission to unplug. Protect your peace. Be present where your feet are. And remember—balance isn’t about doing it all; it’s about doing what matters most.

And to the students and families we serve: thank you for allowing us to be part of your village. You’re a part of ours, too.