I think I’ve officially passed the honeymoon phase of homeschooling. You know that first year or two when everything feels exciting and new? When you call every trip to Target a field trip and count baking cookies as math and science? That was fun. But we’re way past that now. It’s real over here. *send help*
My oldest is in upper elementary, and things just feel different. It’s not that it’s less fun. We still laugh a lot, we still take field trips, we still follow rabbit trails, but the stakes feel higher. When your kids are little, it’s easy to brush off a missed day or two. You take a nature walk, you go to the museum, you count that as school, and keep it moving. But when your kids start getting older, that little voice creeps in: Am I doing enough? Am I harming my child academically? What if I’ve missed something important?
It’s a quiet kind of panic that sits in your chest. And if you’ve been homeschooling long enough, you know exactly what I mean.
Having a curriculum that doesn’t work isn’t just inconvenient at this stage. It’s a big deal. When something falls flat, you can’t just toss it and move on because that means you have to start over. And when you start over, it feels like you’ve lost time. Everyone likes to say that no homeschooled child ever gets left behind, but if I’m being honest, that’s not completely true. I do think there should be some kind of standard we hold ourselves and our kids to. Does it have to be as rigid as public school standards? I don’t think so. But should there be something in place? Absolutely.
There’s so much incredible curriculum out there. I know because I’ve used it, reviewed it, shared it, and recommended it. Some of it is truly amazing. But the truth is, even the best curriculum wasn’t created with your specific child in mind. That’s where it gets complicated.

When “Good Enough” Isn’t Good Enough
Placement tests are supposed to help, but they’re honestly all over the place. Each company has its own version of what mastery looks like. You can test into one program perfectly and be completely lost in another. Sometimes a curriculum works right out of the box, sometimes you need to supplement or skip around, and sometimes, like for us, you end up tossing the whole thing and just building something yourself.
That’s what happened with math. Last year was rough for one of my kids. Nothing clicked. Every day was a ride on the struggle bus, and I could see the confidence slipping away. I tried different programs, I adjusted lessons, and nothing worked. So I did what I always do when I hit a wall: I started researching. And then I started experimenting.
I began using AI (yes, I know *gasp*) to help me map out a plan based on state standards, my child’s learning style, and what we actually needed to focus on. Before anyone rolls their eyes, I didn’t let AI teach my child. I used it like a creative partner. I’d give it prompts like: “Create a 5-day lesson plan for division that connects to real life using food or play.” Or “Write a story-based math lesson that introduces fractions through sharing.” Or “Make a word list of nonsense words with vowel teams for phonics practice.” From there, I’d tweak, simplify, and add our own spin. Sometimes I’d ask for hands-on ideas, games, or short stories to go with the lesson. Then I’d build it out myself.
And it worked. Math went from being the subject everyone dreaded to the one they actually ask for first. I’m not exaggerating. It’s the subject that used to cause meltdowns, and now it’s the one they prefer over language arts. The lessons are tailored to them. They can see themselves in it.
DIY Doesn’t Mean Disorganized
People hear “DIY curriculum” and assume chaos, piles of worksheets, Pinterest overload, and random unit studies that go nowhere. But when you do it right, it’s actually the opposite. It’s intentional. You’re building something that fits your family rhythm, your kids’ interests, and your real-life schedule.
For example, we’ve been diving into ancient African civilizations this semester. When I first started planning it, I didn’t even know where to begin. I had this loose idea of wanting to teach world history in a way that felt connected and story-driven. So I sat down, opened ChatGPT, and started small: “Create a 6-week unit study on Ancient Civilizations for ages 4–8 that focuses on hands-on learning and storytelling.”
Then we broke it down week by week. We explored how trade shaped ancient Ghana, how the Nile made life possible in Egypt, and so on. We added map work, timelines, art, and short readings. Nothing fancy, just consistent. The kids love it because it feels alive, and I love it because it’s flexible. If we get curious about something, we pause and dig deeper. If something doesn’t work, we adjust. There’s no pressure to stay on a curriculum schedule.

The Real Work Isn’t the Lessons, It’s the Connection
The biggest thing I’ve learned through this DIY journey is that connection matters more than curriculum. You can have the most beautiful planner, the best reviews, the perfect layout, but if your child feels disconnected, it won’t work. When I started creating lessons myself, I found that my kids leaned in more. They knew I wasn’t just reading from a teacher’s guide. I was building something for them. They felt seen.
And when they struggled, I didn’t feel helpless. I could change things on the spot. I could say, “Okay, let’s try it this way.” I wasn’t locked into someone else’s structure. That’s the part no one tells you. Creating your own curriculum isn’t just about customizing education. It’s about deepening the relationship between you and your child. It’s saying, “I see where you are, and I’ll meet you there.”
I Am the Teacher
There’s something empowering about realizing that. For so long, I doubted myself. I thought I needed experts, checklists, and pre-made plans to be legitimate. But through all the trial and error, I’ve learned something that changed everything: I am the teacher. I know my kids better than anyone else. I see how they think, how they learn, what lights them up, and what shuts them down. That’s not something any placement test can measure. I’m capable. And so are you.
Creating your own curriculum doesn’t mean you have to reinvent the wheel. It just means you get to design a wheel that fits your road.

If You’re Thinking About Trying It
If you’ve ever thought about creating your own lessons but feel overwhelmed, start small. You don’t have to plan an entire year. You don’t even need to plan a month. Start with one unit study. Maybe Ancient Egypt, weather, simple machines, or fairy tales from around the world. Start with something that feels doable and fun.
Pull a few books from the library. Watch a short video. Ask your kids what they’re curious about. Then build around that curiosity. It doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s homeschool. It just has to make sense for yours. And if it flops, that’s okay. You adjust and you learn.
The Beautiful Mess of It All
I won’t pretend it’s always easy. There are still days when I question everything. Days when the lessons aren't that great, when the kids push back, when I wonder if public school might be easier. But then there are those moments that remind me why we do this. When they connect an idea from math to something in history. When they light up after finishing a project. When I hear them explaining something to each other using words we practiced together. Those are the moments that make me sure.
Sometimes you don’t need to buy the perfect plan. You can build it. And when you do, it will fit your family in a way nothing off the shelf ever could.

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