Starting the School Year with Good Habits
With the start of school and the changing of the seasons, the last days of summer are energized in a unique way. We admire our shiny new books (even if they’re only new to us), carefully pick out our notebooks, pencils, and other materials, and plan out how beautifully organized our days are going to be.
But if your family is anything like mine, the organization falls by the wayside as soon as illness or a major Feast (or an out-of-town friend or a big extracurricular activity, etc.) comes knocking.
by Mindi Popovich-Schneider
With the start of school and the changing of the seasons, the last days of summer are energized in a unique way. We admire our shiny new books (even if they’re only new to us), carefully pick out our notebooks, pencils, and other materials, and plan out how beautifully organized our days are going to be.
But if your family is anything like mine, the organization falls by the wayside as soon as illness or a major Feast (or an out-of-town friend or a big extracurricular activity, etc.) comes knocking.
I am decidedly not good at implementing new habits, so I have to work hard at making them stick. Here are a few things that have helped me, and will hopefully help you too.
Think of rhythms, not schedules.
I have noticed that my kids don’t do well without any structure, but at the same time, our days vary far too much for me to even attempt writing down a schedule. Some days we all sleep in, Papa gets to go into work a bit later, we need to spend more time cleaning the house, or we have liturgy for a special feast…and so on.
Instead, on the advice of a friend, I’ve started to think in terms of rhythms. “These are the things we do in the morning: prayers, breakfast, make beds/tidy, school/chores. They might vary in order or length of time spent, but that’s generally what we want to accomplish each day. These are the chores/school tasks we do on Mondays; this is what we do on Tuesdays, etc. Those things may not always happen at the same time each week, but that’s typically what we try to accomplish on that day.” Thinking in general terms helps us go with the flow, while still giving a loose shape to our days.
Start small.
If you struggle to get consistent with a habit, consider breaking it down into smaller components. For example, if you find it hard to fit exercise into your day, don’t go straight to adding trips to the gym or a three-mile walk into your normal routine. Start off with something much smaller that can fit more naturally into the habits you already have. Perhaps when you first go downstairs for the day, you can pause at the bottom of the stairs and do a few reps of stair-steps (i.e., up and down the bottom step a certain number of times). Or maybe you could have your family do some light stretching before everyone sits down to start their schoolwork. Then, once you’ve mastered that small habit, you can think of ways to add onto it, until the habit has become what you originally had in mind.
Another example: if you want to pray more, don’t go straight to trying to do an Akathist each week. Start by praying one or two rounds on your prayer rope. Once you have mastered that, add in one or two shorter prayers, and so on. When you do face some major disruption to your routine, you’ll know how to start over.
Create physical barriers.
Each morning, I feel a lot of pressure to get work done before my kids wake up for the day. That results in prayers–and especially reading my Bible–always getting pushed to the side. Recently, I’ve started putting my prayer rope and Bible on top of my laptop each night–meaning that I have to physically remove them before I can start work…and let me tell you, the guilt makes it very hard to move them aside without engaging with them!
Follow your natural inclinations.
It would be really great if my family (myself included) naturally always put their shoes and socks away in their rooms the moment they took them off. That just doesn’t happen. Instead of fighting it, I made room for a second shoe rack in our coat closet. Our “pop on” shoes can stay by the back door, but anything else goes into the closet, just a few feet away. Socks don’t make it up to the laundry basket? Boom, now there’s a laundry basket in the downstairs closet (yes, I do still constantly have to remind my three year old that’s where they go).
Going back to the goal of exercising more: a friend put a kettlebell in his kitchen so that when he’s between tasks making dinner, he can get in a bit of weightlifting. An added benefit is that if you have toddlers under foot, you can distract them by having them lift weights (or attempt to lift weights) when you have to attend to the food.
The oft-discussed habit stacking falls under this category too. If there’s a habit you already have (e.g., a cup of coffee every morning), add a habit onto it, such as doing squats or rounds on your prayer rope while the coffee brews (you might have to stare at the pot while you exercise/pray to make sure you don’t forget to do it!). My husband and I wanted to start saying prayers at the end of our meals but could never quite make it work, primarily because we and my mother-in-law always linger at the table to chat before we start cleaning up. My oldest kiddo always finishes eating before everyone else and must ask to be excused, so we attached praying to that instead of to when the adults were ready to leave the table.
Don’t try to change the way your household functions; instead, find ways to shape new, good habits to the way your family already naturally works.
Do it together.
I find that I enjoy doing most things ten times more when I’m doing them with my family–plus, getting my kids involved means they’re developing better habits too. Instead of making my kids clean up before bed–or waiting until they’re asleep to just do it myself–we’ve started cleaning up as a family. Sometimes we’ll put on music and blitz-tidy as long as the song plays. (Yes, of course my kids still complain, but I have more fun!)
The same applies to other chores as well. When my son was two, we made up a silly game involving folding socks to occupy him while we put away laundry. It very naturally segued into him folding and putting away his own clothing.
I know none of these concepts are particularly revolutionary, but I do hope that as you prepare for the new liturgical year and school year, they will serve as motivations to grab those habits you’ve been wanting to implement–without feeling pressure to do too much or to be perfect. May God bless you, your family, and all you undertake in the upcoming year!
Masculinity, Femininity, and the Search for Meaning
Modern culture often speaks about masculinity and femininity with uncertainty. At times, the differences between men and women are treated as insignificant, while at other times they are reduced to stereotypes, performances, or struggles for power.
by Londyn, SEM Intern
Modern culture often speaks about masculinity and femininity with uncertainty. At times, the differences between men and women are treated as insignificant, while at other times they are reduced to stereotypes, performances, or struggles for power. Many young people grow up surrounded by conflicting messages about relationships, careers, and purpose. Yet beneath this confusion, there often remains a quieter longing that modern culture can never satisfy: the desire for love, stability, family, and a meaningful life shared with others.
Orthodox Christianity approaches masculinity and femininity not as competing identities, but as complementary expressions of the human person. Men and women are created in the image of God and share the same spiritual dignity and calling toward holiness. At the same time, they often express love, sacrifice, responsibility, and care in distinct yet complementary ways. The Church does not see these differences as limitations or social constructions, but as part of the beauty and order of creation itself.
Modern society frequently presents fulfillment as radical independence. Success is often measured through personal achievement, status, wealth, or freedom from obligation. Yet despite these promises, many people still feel deeply lonely, restless, and uncertain about what lasting happiness actually looks like. A longing for marriage, family, rootedness, and faithful community has not disappeared. If anything, it has become more visible precisely because modern life often feels fragmented, temporary, and disconnected.
Growing up in a family with seven children deeply influenced my understanding of these things from an early age. Life is rarely quiet, and our days are filled with constant movement, responsibility, conversation, and shared routines. Yet there is also a warmth and steadiness within it. Family life teaches people to think beyond themselves. It forms patience, forgiveness, sacrifice, humility, and loyalty in ordinary ways that often go unnoticed. Shared meals, laughter, helping care for younger siblings, and simply living closely with others create a sense of belonging that cannot easily be replaced by modern individualistic pursuits.
At the same time, I do not believe masculinity or femininity require rejecting education, ambition, creativity, or experiences beyond the home. This summer, before beginning college, I will be studying abroad in Denmark for a month, and last winter I traveled to Germany with my parents. Traveling changes the way a person sees the world. It teaches humility and attentiveness. Seeing unfamiliar places, hearing different languages, and encountering other cultures broadens the mind and deepens appreciation for beauty. Interestingly, the more people experience the restlessness of modern life, the more many begin to appreciate the goodness of permanence, tradition, and home.
For many women, modern culture often presents two equally unsatisfying extremes. On one side, femininity is reduced to appearance, attention, or performance. On the other, domestic life, marriage, and motherhood are sometimes treated as lesser than professional success or radical independence. Yet many young women still feel drawn toward a quieter and more rooted vision of life: one centered around faithfulness, love, family, and the desire to create a home filled with warmth, peace, and stability.
Orthodoxy understands this desire not as weakness, but as a profound form of vocation. Homemaking, in its deepest sense, is not merely the maintenance of a household. It is the cultivation of an environment where souls are nurtured through patience, discipline, tenderness, forgiveness, and love. Such work may appear ordinary from the outside, yet it quietly shapes future generations and forms the spiritual atmosphere of family life. At the same time, the Church also honors women through many different callings — motherhood, scholarship, service, monasticism, hospitality, teaching, and countless other forms of faithful living.
Masculinity has also become deeply confused within modern culture. Online culture often reduces manhood to status, wealth, physical appearance, domination, or control over others. Yet these images ultimately leave many men isolated and dissatisfied because they mistake strength for aggression and confidence for vanity.
The Orthodox understanding of masculinity is far deeper and more demanding. A good man remains faithful, dependable, disciplined, and willing to sacrifice himself for others. He protects and provides not out of pride or the desire for control, but out of love and responsibility. His strength exists not for self-glorification, but for service. Masculinity requires humility, courage, steadiness, patience, and self-control. It asks a man to remain trustworthy even when life becomes difficult, exhausting, or painful.
Likewise, true femininity is not passive, shallow, or intellectually narrow. It requires deep emotional and spiritual strength. A woman often creates the atmosphere of family and community life through attentiveness, wisdom, compassion, endurance, and steadfast love. Both masculinity and femininity therefore involve sacrifice and self-giving. Neither is centered on self-fulfillment alone. Instead, both find meaning through communion, responsibility, devotion, and love directed toward God and other people.
The Orthodox Church presents Christ as the perfect image of humanity itself. In Him, strength and humility exist together completely. Christ reveals that greatness is found not through domination, but through sacrificial love. The Church also honors the Theotokos as the highest example of human faithfulness and spiritual beauty. Her humility was not weakness, but profound strength rooted in obedience and trust in God. Together, Christ and His mother reveal the fullness of what humanity is meant to become.
Though I am only eighteen and just beginning adulthood, I find myself increasingly drawn toward a life centered around faith, education, friendship, family, and service. I look forward to college, learning, traveling, and experiencing the wider world, yet I also hope to marry, raise children, and build a home of warmth, devotion, stability, and love. That desire does not feel restrictive to me. Rather, it feels deeply meaningful because family life touches something enduring within human nature itself.
Modern society often encourages constant reinvention and independence from all obligation. Yet beneath the noise and movement of contemporary life, many people still long for permanence — for homes filled with laughter, children raised with care, friendships rooted in faithfulness, and lives ordered toward something greater than personal success alone. Perhaps this longing endures because it reflects something fundamental within the human soul. Even in a restless age, the quiet beauty of faithful love, family, sacrifice, and communion continues to endure.
Motherhood is not a Job
Lately, I’ve noticed a trend that I find a little troubling–what I can really only call “the commodification of parenthood.” As far as I can tell, this trend started with very good intentions, springing from the idea that stay-at-home moms in particular are undervalued, as evidenced when comparing their workload to a full-time job. Over the past year or so, however, I think this discourse has gotten out of hand. I can’t count the number of posts that are recommended to me across social media channels that feature comments about dads “solo parenting” while mom is running errands, moms calling themselves “HR manager,” or parents “clocking in for the closing shift” before putting kids to bed.
by Mindi Popovich-Schneider, Saint Emmelia Ministries Assistant Director
Lately, I’ve noticed a trend that I find a little troubling–what I can really only call “the commodification of parenthood.” As far as I can tell, this trend started with very good intentions, springing from the idea that stay-at-home moms in particular are undervalued, as evidenced when comparing their workload to a full-time job. Over the past year or so, however, I think this discourse has gotten out of hand. I can’t count the number of posts that are recommended to me across social media channels that feature comments about dads “solo parenting” while mom is running errands, moms calling themselves “HR manager,” or parents “clocking in for the closing shift” before putting kids to bed.
If I had to guess, I would say that there are two sources of this language trend. The first is that, thanks to social media, everything is commodified. If something can be described in corporate language, it almost certainly will be—probably because of the way that the minutiae of everyday life has become an income stream for content creators. Of course that would trickle down into the parenting corners of the internet: these influencers are making money off of documenting their “work” as parents. Second, I think this trend indicates a general lack of purpose in parenthood. Without clear goals, of course the natural end is to commodify parenting: there is nothing that sets it apart from any other use of our time, and our time is most valuable in the language of money.
To be clear, I think there can be positive applications of this type of language: as moms (especially stay-at-home and homeschooling moms), there can be a lot of guilt around feeling tired or burnt out. Comparing homemaking and parenting to a 40 hour job might help with that guilt. Or it might help ease tensions around mismatched expectations between spouses or in-laws. I’m not saying we need to totally do away with this language. I do think, however, that it might be doing some damage to our relationship with the concept of motherhood–and indeed, parenthood more broadly.
The reality is that motherhood is not a job. It’s something deeper. It’s biological. Despite the cute TikToks or Instagram Reels that suggest otherwise, you can’t clock out to go do a Target run. You don’t work shifts. You can change your profession, but you cannot change that you are a parent. You are a mother (or father) all the time. Your responsibilities don’t disappear because your kids are not with you in a given moment.
Our goal is to raise children who love and serve Christ and therefore those around them. That means that even when we are not doing the direct work of parenting, like feeding, cleaning, or disciplining children, we still have work to do. In the times that we are not with our children physically, we still have a spiritual responsibility–a responsibility to direct every moment of our lives towards service to God so that we are better-equipped to teach our children to do the same. Then, we should be praying for our children in every moment possible.
Household chores can feel like a mundane, neverending task, especially for someone like me, who is not very domestic or naturally maternal. But they are all in service of the job that we can never clock out from: helping point our children to heaven and trusting Christ to get them–and us–there.
So, what’s the point of saying all this? It is, I hope, to encourage you in the same way that I myself often need to be encouraged. Even when motherhood feels like a slog, even when it feels like you’re “clocking in” to clean the kitchen or wash the same clothes that you washed two days ago, remember that this is not your job. This is your holy work. This is your gift of sanctification.