🦋 Homeschool + Entrepreneurship: The Real Story Behind Our Teen’s First Business

I would like to welcome you to a new series coming Thursday called the Guys Corner by Charlie and David of C&D Honey-Do’s where we share 🦋 Homeschool + Entrepreneurship: The Real Story Behind Our Teen’s First Business in my family with you your family and friends. If you have information that can help other parents, please leave me a comment and we will share the information as soon as possible.

Homeschooling and entrepreneurship look cute on Pinterest, but let me tell you the truth from my porch: it’s not cute, it’s not tidy, and it’s not always inspiring. Some days it’s chaos. Some days it’s grit. Some days it’s me screaming into a pillow because nobody in this house seems to understand that I am one woman with two hands and a business to run.

But this is the story parents need to hear — the real story not the one you see online. The story where homeschooling on a budget didn’t just teach Charlie academics. It taught life. It taught responsibility. It taught C how to think for himself, even when he didn’t want to. And it taught me that raising a teen into a man is not soft work. It’s hard, holy, exhausting, beautiful work. With a lot of screaming and cussing at times and even throwing things as I wanted to beat my head against a wall.

People love to say, “Oh, C started his first business at five!” like it was a magical moment. No. It was messy. It was loud. It was trial and error. It was me trying to teach math while David needed help with a repair, and C was in the corner building something that may or may not have been safe. It was real life — and real life became the curriculum.

There were days C wouldn’t get out of bed. Days he argued. Days he pushed back. Days Charlie wanted to quit. Days Charlie wanted David to talk to his boss for him because he didn’t want to handle a hard conversation. And I said no. Absolutely not. Because in a real job, you don’t send your dad. You show up. You speak for yourself. You ask your own questions. You get clarity on your hours, your pay, your responsibilities. That’s adulthood. That’s entrepreneurship. That’s life.

And then there were the days when David had a list of honey‑dos longer than the state of Texas, and he needed help and C was in bed and wouldn’t get up or gaming couldn’t wait or so Charlie liked to believe more times than I can count.

So I put my business on hold to help him, and then I got behind, and then I had no one to help me catch up. That’s the part nobody talks about. The part where the mom running the homeschool, the home, the business, and the family is stretched so thin she could snap. But she doesn’t. She keeps going. Because that’s what moms do.

C learned entrepreneurship not because we had money or a perfect plan, but because life forced him to grow. He learned that if you don’t get up, you don’t get paid. If you don’t show up, someone else will take your spot. If you want to be a man, you act like one — even when you’re tired, even when you’re mad, even when your friend can’t go with you.

And speaking of friends — let’s talk about that. There was a season where C thought his friend should go everywhere with him and it still happens today and Charlie is 18. Work, projects, errands, everything. No. Friends are not your security blanket. Friends are not your alarm clock. Friends are not your business partners unless they earn that role. If you want to work, you need your own plan. Your own tools. Your own lunch. Your own phone and they need their own phone. Your own way to get there. And if you don’t drive, you better have a backup plan that doesn’t involve me rearranging my entire day. Don’t expect your friends to camp out in my house eat my food and not do a damn thing.

Trash doesn’t take itself out, Dishes don’t wash themselves and Potato need peeled and it isn’t going to kill you. Don’t expect to eat her get a job and bring your own food. I didn’t take your friends to raise and neither did David.

Because here’s the truth: I run a job. I run a business. I don’t have time to get you up, pack your lunch, find you a way to work when you have a bike and a scooter and walk all over at night, then come home and try to catch up on everything I put on hold. If I have to manage your entire workday, then you owe me a paycheck and so does your friend. That’s the real world. That’s the truth.

David taught the hard skills — tools, repairs, car maintenance, home repairs and responsibility. He didn’t sugarcoat anything. He didn’t coddle C. He didn’t baby him. They butted heads. They argued. They disagreed. They walked away mad. But they always came back. Because that’s what men do.

I taught the emotional labor — the scheduling, the planning, the teaching, the holding‑everything‑together even when I was falling apart. I was the glue. The one who made sure the homeschool kept moving, the house kept running, the business stayed alive, and the family didn’t fall apart. And some days I wanted to quit. Some days I wanted to scream. Some days I did scream. But I kept going. Because that’s what moms do even thought my depression would set it and panic attacks would happen.

And through all of it — the fights, the fails, the lessons, the late nights, the early mornings, the “get up or get left,” the “figure it out,” the “no, your friend can’t go,” the “you need to talk to your boss yourself,” the “I can’t do everything for you” — C learned how to be an entrepreneur.

Not the cute kind. Not the Instagram kind. The real kind.

The kind who shows up. The kind who takes responsibility. The kind who learns from mistakes. The kind who figures things out. The kind who grows even when it’s uncomfortable.

That’s what Guys Corner is about. Not perfection. Not pretending. Not polishing the story until it sparkles.

It’s about telling the truth — the porch‑truth — so other families know they’re not alone. So other parents know it’s okay if their homeschool doesn’t look like a catalog. So other teens know that growing up is hard but worth it. So other moms know that the chaos, the cussing, the crying, the pushing, the praying, the trying again… it all matters.

If C can grow through the mess, the lessons, the hard days, and the real‑life work — your teen can too.

With a little hard work, grit faith and a few Prayers thrown in my circus and these Monkes survived and helped me keep the circle unbroken.

Thank you,

Glenda, Charlie and David Cates