Curious what The Midlife Sabbatical is all about? [Here’s the backstory.] I’ve previously written about how your sabbatical affects those around you—but I kept coming back to the conversations I’ve had with my own kids. So this one’s for the parents.
Last week was my birthday (it’s my last year I can say I’m in my 40s!). In the card from my oldest child, he wrote:
“I’m inspired by the way you’re going after it.”
That one line made me stop.
Not just because it’s a big thing for a 14-year-old to say to a parent, but because of what it represents.
When you take a sabbatical—and come out the other side—there’s a good chance the way you were previously living no longer applies. Your pace changes. Your choices change. Your energy shifts. And your kids notice.
They notice the small stuff: that you’re around more. That things don’t feel quite as rushed. That you say yes to the after school event on a Tuesday without two weeks of planning. But they also notice the harder stuff: That the family’s spending has changed. That you’re not “working” in the same way. That you’re figuring it out, too.
The First Time I Felt It
I was four months into my sabbatical. It was the start of summer break. We were standing in the kitchen making lunch when my oldest said, “Mom, it’s really nice having you around more.”
Just like that. No prompting. No big moment. Just a side comment that cracked me open.
I remember trying to keep it together. Because when your 12-year-old says something like that, you don’t push (even if you desperately want to). You just let it land. I took a breath and said, “Yeah—it is nice being around more.”
It was.
But it was also disorienting. We had traded a high-speed lifestyle for something slower, less certain. We were eating in more. Buying fewer things. Choosing differently. For a kid, those changes aren’t always easy to understand—even if they’re ultimately good for them.
Having the Conversation
Because of my kids’ ages—10 and 12 at the time—I had the chance to talk with them about my sabbatical. Not just in a “Mom’s not working right now” kind of way, but really talk about what I was doing and why.
I told them:
That I had worked really hard for a long time.
That I needed rest—not just physical rest, but brain rest.
That I wasn’t sure what was next, but I was figuring it out.
That I wanted more time with them and their dad, and more time with myself.
Like most big conversations with kids, it didn’t all happen at once. It came in pieces. On car rides. During walks. Over cereal. It came through their questions:
“Are you going to get another job?”
“Does this mean we can’t go on vacation?”
“What do you do all day?”
I answered each one honestly, even when I didn’t have a perfect answer. I let them see the in-between.
What They’re Learning
You don’t have to sit your kids down for a formal explanation of your sabbatical. You’re teaching them just by living it.
Here’s what I hope mine are learning by watching:
That adults don’t always have it figured out—and that’s okay.
That you can change your mind.
That being present is powerful.
That you can design a life, not just run on autopilot.
One of the great gifts of this experience is that they’re not just hearing me say “you can do anything”—they’re seeing me make big, uncomfortable choices in real time.
And even if they don’t fully understand it now, they’re internalizing something important: that agency and alignment matter more than appearances. That it’s okay to pause. That you can want more and less at the same time.
If You’re Planning to Talk to Your Kids
Here are a few prompts you can use to start the conversation, depending on their age:
“Have you noticed anything different since I’ve been home more?”
“Do you have any questions about what I’m doing right now?”
“What would you do if you had a few months off from school or work?”
You don’t need to make it profound. Keep it honest. Let them in.
Your sabbatical isn’t just a break from work. It’s a window into a different way of living. One that your kids may one day need for themselves.
And maybe, years from now, they’ll look back and say:
“I’m inspired by the way you went after it.”
You’ve got a perceptive kid there!
You are offering more to your children than you probably realize as you walk through this in their sight. The intangible assets in which you’re investing - time with your children, resting your body, mind and soul, pausing your career to reevaluate your path - are more valuable than tangible assets in the end. I applaud your choices and honest communication!