How One Homeschooling Mompreneur Turned Chaos into Creativity, and Made a Life She Loves
By Katrina Ashburn
I always knew I wanted the ‘Game of Life’ car—the one packed with tiny pink and blue pegs that barely fit. I joke about it, but I truly meant it.
Even as a little girl, I dreamed of a home filled with the noise, joy, and delightful chaos of children. And honestly, I think the seeds of my entrepreneurial spirit were planted back then, too, right alongside my childhood dreams of motherhood.
I always knew I wanted the ‘Game of Life’ car—the one packed with tiny pink and blue pegs that barely fit. I joke about it, but I truly meant it.
The Turtle That Started It All
I’ve been an entrepreneur since I was small. I remember sitting in the front yard with paper drawings of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle face I’d sketched over and over again, trying to sell them for ten cents each. A true art gallery of turtle expressions. I didn’t sell a single one —not even to a pitying neighbor—but that didn’t stop me. That early determination to create and share something of my own never left.
When I became pregnant with my oldest, my creativity found a new outlet: jewelry-making. I sold handmade pieces wherever I could—craft markets, festivals, and yes, to a few kind people who probably just wanted me to stop talking about jump rings. My husband, my forever supporter, built my wooden display booth by hand and sat with me for hours at shows, chatting with customers while I nervously rearranged earrings for the tenth time.
Creative Roots and Coast Guard Moves
After high school, my husband joined the United States Coast Guard, and we spent a few years in Michigan before moving back to Texas in 2007—me, newly pregnant again, and armed with a fresh degree in Graphic Design with a Fine Arts emphasis. Every bit of that education has shaped my work over the years, from branding to product design.
“Any wild hair I get for a business idea—he’s usually holding the measuring tape or keeping the kids entertained.”
I grew up with a mom who could sew anything, but I didn’t truly appreciate that skill until our second baby arrived. Suddenly, I wanted to make tiny dresses like the ones I wore growing up. That led to a handmade clothing line—and because I needed photos, I rekindled another old flame: photography.
Hence, I opened Junkyard Studio Photography. Soon, I was shooting family sessions and client work in between nap times and snack negotiations. Even today, I’ve been blessed to work with so many beautiful families, first newborn moments, and more.
Business by Hand and Heart
Fast forward to 2022: I felt pulled back to my hands-on crafting roots and launched The Rustic Wolf Trading Co (www.therusticwolftradingco.com). There, I create hand-sewn clothing and housewares, heirloom crochet pieces, and hand-poured soy candles. It’s the kind of work that lets me honor the beauty of childhood and tradition. My heart has always been about capturing childhood and holding it close, but also giving parents the joy of gifting their children something meaningful. Something to be remembered. Something they might one day pass on to their own children. There’s a deep, quiet honor in creating—one that reflects the heart of our Creator.
God, in His infinite imagination, designed a world full of beauty, texture, and life. When I sew a dress, pour a candle, or shape something with my hands, I feel a small glimpse of that divine spark. It’s not just about making things; it’s about joining in the sacred rhythm of creation. Whether I’m stitching heirloom pieces or crafting something simple at the kitchen table, I’m reminded that to create is to worship—to echo the One who made us in His image, full of potential, wonder, and the ability to bring beauty into the everyday. “I’m not just making clothes or candles—I’m stitching together memories and caffeine-fueled dreams.” Somehow, in the midst of all this, I found myself teaching at our local high school. That brief season stirred something unexpected: the desire to homeschool.
The Scariest Yes
I didn’t grow up in a homeschool family. I was a public school kid—the talkative one, always doodling, never great with grades, but endlessly curious. I remember wishing I could study what I actually loved. Those memories stayed with me. I knew that if I ever homeschooled, I’d want to nurture that spark—the kind that can’t always be graded but matters just as much. I’ve always been the type who, if I don’t know how to do something, I’ll figure it out. If I can’t do it the first time, I’ll try again (possibly with tears and snacks, but I’ll try again). That grit is something I believe God placed deep inside me.
Still, the idea of homeschooling my own kids terrified me. Like, big-time scared me. What if I failed them? What if my kids ended up learning long division in their twenties because I taught it wrong? What if I couldn’t figure out fractions (again)? But the nudge wouldn’t go away. Last fall, I finally said yes. My two younger kids officially started homeschooling, and in October, my oldest—now a senior—chose to come home too. I will never forget our first day at the kitchen table. Books spread out. The house filled with questions and answers, laughter and silence. I was terrified… and also amazed. No one cried. Not even me.
There’s a deep, quiet honor in creating—one that reflects the heart of our Creator.
Rhythms, reroutes, and Real Life
Let me be honest, though—I’ve bought curricula I never finished, researched learning styles like I was writing a thesis, and had Pinterest-fueled ambitions that quietly disappeared under piles of laundry. This first year has been a journey, and my kids have gracefully ridden the waves with me. One of the most beautiful surprises has been discovering how differently each of them learns. Our days have become a rhythm that feels like ours—we bake, we craft, we take field trips, and we rest when we need to. It’s different from anything I ever imagined, and yet more fulfilling than I could’ve hoped. I see the fruit not just in their education, but in our relationships. We’ve discovered how differently each of them learns and built a rhythm that works for us, not some perfect Instagram version of homeschooling.
“I can’t tell you how many heartfelt ambitions have gently been swept under the rug… usually along with LEGO bricks and mystery crumbs.”
A Life Woven Together
Looking back, I see God’s hand in every step. Every failed business idea, every risk I hesitated to take, every moment of fear or doubt—He’s used it all. Our life now feels woven together. Not perfect, but purposeful. My kids have seen it all. I can’t count how many times they’ve sat in the car with snacks and a tablet while I ran into a photography session, or helped pack candle orders, but most importantly, watched me pivot more than once with adaptability and determination. They’re learning that creativity isn’t always tidy. That success takes grit. That failure is just another version of learning. Being a mompreneur isn’t always glamorous—it’s late nights, glitter explosions, printer errors, and starting over (again). But they’ve seen it all. They’ve seen that entrepreneurship is not just about success—it’s about resilience, adaptability, and faith. “We’re not just building businesses. We’re building a life—messy, faith-filled, and full of turtle drawings and ten-cent dreams.”
This article first appeared in the Fall 2025 (September) issue of Texas Homeschool Magazine.
Our print and digital subscribers receive full issues first, along with early access and exclusive content.
Katrina Ashburn
Hi, I’m Katrina — wife to my high school sweetheart of 21 years and mama to four incredible kiddos. I’ve spent the last 17 years capturing the tender, fleeting moments of childhood as a newborn and family photographer, and I pour that same heart into everything I do. I’m a small business owner, crocheter, children’s clothing designer, and freshly minted homeschool mom learning as I go (with lots of coffee and grace). With a degree in graphic design and a deep love for Jesus, nature, and handmade everything, I believe beauty is found in the little things — muddy gardens, messy art tables, and a cultivated love of learning.