I've recently started homeschooling my almost-five-year-old nephew. And when I say recently, I mean we've had two days.

Day one was amazing.

Day two was... educational. For both of us.

Let me give you some context. My nephew — let's call him Luke — is generally well-behaved. His mom is a single mom, and when she has him, she's incredible. Patient. Consistent. The kind of mom who teaches manners and follows through.

But his mom works, and while she's at work, our 73-year-old mother watches him.

And anyone who knows anything about grandmothers knows what happens next.

My mother is being raised by my four-year-old nephew.

He has learned — as children do — exactly who will hold the line and who will hand him another cookie. Grandma is not the line-holder. She is the cookie-hander.

So when Aunt Rene showed up with a curriculum and a plan, Luke came in with some assumptions.

Day two. We're working on letters. He's writing the letter S.

And then — mutiny.

He decided he was in charge. We were going to do things his way. He wanted to skip letters and jump to math. Then he wanted to skip math and just play. Then he wanted to argue about why his plan was better.

He threw every trick in the book. The tantrum. The demands. The endless negotiation attempts. The "but whyyyyy" on repeat like a very small lawyer who bills by the hour.

Now, 31-year-old me? With my strong-willed two-year-old daughter who made this kid look like a monk? I would have been at my wits' end. I would have questioned every parenting choice I'd ever made. I probably would have cried in the bathroom later.

But 49-year-old me has been through some things.

His tantrum met calm. His demands met pleasant, very firm boundaries. His arguing met a wall that didn't argue back.

"We're not doing math until we finish letters."

"I'm not playing until school is done."

"You can feel frustrated. The answer is still no."

Did school get completed? No.

Did he get his way? Also no.

We sat in the standoff together. Me, calm. Him, furious. And eventually — tired.

That night, he gave me a big hug and said, "I love you, Aunt Rene."

That made it all worth it.

Here's what I want you to know if you're in the thick of it with a toddler or a preschooler or a tiny human who has decided today is the day they take over the household:

You are not failing.

The fact that it feels out of control doesn't mean it is. The fact that school didn't get finished doesn't mean you lost. The fact that you're exhausted doesn't mean you're doing it wrong.

Stay calm, mama. Hold your boundaries. They don't feel like love to a four-year-old in the moment — but they are. Boundaries are what make kids feel safe and stable, even when they're screaming about them.

I know this because I lived through the two-year-old version with my own daughter. I didn't have the calm then. I didn't have the perspective. I felt like I was drowning every single day, and no one told me it would get better.

So I'm telling you.

It gets better. You learn things. You grow. And one day you're sitting across from a tiny dictator attempting a hostile takeover of your homeschool, and you realize — you've got this.

Not because you figured out some secret. Just because you've been through some things, and the things taught you.

The hug at bedtime. The "I love you." That's the fruit.

You'll get there. Keep going.

— Irene D.

Thanks for reading. If this encouraged you, I'd love for you to share it with a friend who needs it too.

— Irene D.