We work hard to nurture and grow their emotional intelligence.

Daniel Tiger’s music is silly and catchy, but gets straight to the point.

Stuff like this:

When you feel so mad
That you want to roar
Take a deep breath
And count to four

And this:

Keep trying until it works for you
You get better, yes it’s true
Then what do you know, you’re doing fine
Because practice makes you better all the time

And this:

You can be a big helper in your family
Big helper in your family

And this:

Enjoy the wow that’s happening now
Look for the wow that’s happening now
Be thankful for all the things that are happening right now
Find the wow that’s happening now

And this:

When something seems bad
Turn it around
And find something good

But turns out, maybe it’s us adults who really need to listen to Daniel Tiger’s wisdom?

Optimism won’t solve all your parenting struggles.

It’s not a great tactic for magically getting a child to sleep.

It doesn’t clean up a messy house or make dinner for the family or find the missing library book.

It won’t cure exhaustion and can’t put you in two places at once.

And with all that said, there doesn’t seem to be a better option than staying optimistic. It’s good for you and even better for the family.

Everything falls somewhere on a spectrum of Have to or Get to.

• Taking him to the ball game
• Bathtime
• Dirty diapers
• Dance recitals
• Going in at 11:12 PM because she won’t stop crying
• Going in at 2:58 AM because she won’t stop crying
• Going to the playground
• Shuttling them between practices in traffic on an empty stomach
• Bedtime routine
• Hard conversations
• Going for a walk
• Cleaning up vomit

If we’re honest, the fun stuff might feel like a Have to on some days. And for whatever reason, cleaning up vomit is a Get to on another day.

Of course, it’s all in our head.

Where anything lands on the spectrum is entirely up to you. No one else gets to decide. Not your spouse. Not your kid. Not your friends. Not the guy who cut you off in traffic or a rude coworker.

Every time you show up is a decision. Do I Get to or Have to?

It’s your call. Choose wisely.

It’s wise to recognize when two competing ideas or feelings or facts are both true at the same time.

A good person can do bad things.

The other side is right.

My side is wrong.

A place can be inspiring, beautiful, and vibrant, and also frustrating, ugly, and dark.

Sad moments can be happy moments.

Excitement and fear can occur simultaneously.

Hard situations are good for us.

I’m a mess but forgiven.

What if my family talks about this stuff and really embraces it? And what if we start early? And what if that continues as kids grow up and encounter a really complex world?

Imagine the margin we could find in our communication and relationships and politics and mental health.

Somehow two things are both true at the same time.

Thing One

I know Mazey really, really well.

I can predict her next move.

I can tell how she is feeling. I can tell when she is sick.

I can reasonably assume what her babbling words actually mean.

I know how to get her excited.

I know what makes her laugh and I know when the joke is over.

Thing Two

I have no idea who this child is or where she is headed.

I’m surprised every day.

I underestimate her, then overestimate her.

I guess wrong. I miscalculate.

I’m baffled when she gobbles black beans today but refuses them tomorrow.

I have no clue where she will be or what she will be doing in five or ten or twenty or fifty years.

—

This dichotomy in Thing One and Thing Two is exhilarating.

A shared parent goal is to be present around their kids.

It’s unclear if this term and idea – being present – is a fancy new age parenting ideal, but it sure feels new age amplified.

I told some friends recently “I think I’m actually doing a decent job at this being present thing. Perfect? No, definitely not. But maybe actually pretty good? Or at least not bad? Like maybe I would probably give myself a good grade?”

After mopping the humble brag vomit off the floor, I figured out what’s going on in my head:

• I think about this stuff constantly because the stakes feel so high.

• The high stakes vibe is driven by an endless internal dialogue.

The dialogue bouncing around sounds like this:

• Today is the only July 29, 2022 you will ever, ever get with Mazey and Courtney.

• You will never, ever get this afternoon with Mazey in the park back again.

• Hearing Mazey yell Dada! tomorrow morning when I walk in her room means one less time it will ever happen.

• Mazey or Courtney or both could be gone at any moment.

This stuff is on loop in my head non-stop. It’s not just a passing thought. I say this stuff to myself word for word. I stew on it.

• And what’s beneath it all is a realization that time is speeding up.

• And what’s beneath that is a scary reality that everything is happening too fast and ending too soon.

Tonight was a Dada and Mazey bedtime. We had a blast. Unfortunately, that means one less bedtime ever for us. A July 29, 2022 bedtime will never, ever happen again. Tomorrow’s Saturday Morning Snuggles™ in bed with Mama and Dada means one less time it will ever happen.

That’s both terrifying and a good reason to get serious about the whole be present thing.

I noticed a feeling after meeting Courtney and spending time together. It was specific, happened fast, and seemed important.

Sure, there are lots of big feelings in those early stages. I felt excited. I was having fun. I felt more secure and confident. I felt good.

All that’s great, but this thing was more nuanced.

You know all the weird fun stuff in relationships? The stuff like making plans and meeting new people and cooking and hosting parties and buying weird furniture from weird people on Craigslist and going to Target at 11 pm for jello shot ingredients?

Or all the hard stuff? Like deaths in the family or friends moving away or work frustrations or awful current events?

Or the disagreements or spats?

No matter the circumstances. No matter the fun or the hard or the bad. I always felt like Courtney and I were on the same team. I didn’t just feel it, I knew it.

Those early days were a long time ago but the feeling never left. Actually, it’s even stronger and cooler now.

I don’t like giving advice to new Dads. Probably because I was annoyed when people tried to give me advice (pride, ego, etc) and/or I’m not qualified.

This one seems important though.

Be on the same team as your spouse when raising a child. No matter the good. No matter the bad. No matter the fun or sad or exhausting. Be on the same team.

You both need it, but your kid needs this even more.

One non-parent observation about parenting might sound like this: “Hey it seems like there is a ton of stuff to do all the time and most of that stuff doesn’t look very fun but no offense?”

And maybe if we’re honest that observation isn’t really that crazy? Most parent’s days and weeks and months and years are spent doing stuff people avoid.

Stuff like cleaning pee off the floor. Cleaning food off the floor. Cleaning bottles. Cleaning pump tubes. Laundry. Laundry with pee involved. Picking up toys. Vacuuming dirt. Vacuuming sand. Organizing. Laundry with poop involved. Installing a car seat. Tightening the car seat. Packing stuff. Packing the car. Unpacking the car. Unpacking stuff.

Turns out, all the seemingly non-fun stuff that takes up a lot of time and most people try to avoid is actually parenting in itself.

Turns out, choosing the right posture for all the stuff really matters. Don’t just do the stuff. Embrace the stuff. Love the stuff. It’s much more fun that way.

Stuff happening for the first time is a big deal for parents.

• First moments outside the womb
• First time in a car seat
• First time being introduced to {family, friends, coworkers, our landlord, the mailman}
• First time in a crib
• First belly laugh
• First time sleeping through the night
• First time in the pool
• First time holding a bottle on their own
• First time on an airplane
• First words
• First birthday
• First steps
• First time pointing to {toes, belly, ears, nose} upon request
• First time going poo poo and pee pee in the big toilet.
• etc

Some of these feel natural, like words and steps. Others are family specific and environmental, like getting in a pool or flying on an airplane.

We (collective “we”) document these firsts with photos and memories and notes. We share fun updates with family and friends and strangers and landlords and the mailman. We’re happily surprised some days and patiently waiting most of the others.

Guessing milestones is an understood tradition when parents talk with each other. It’s that carnival game where you give someone money and they guess your weight by looking at you. “What is she….10 months? Ohhhh I bet you’re taking steps soon aren’t you?!??”

I think about these firsts a lot. Not just Mazey’s, but some innate, collective focus on our children’s firsts.

Why do we all care so much?

Reason 1: Pride

“Mazey turned one” pops a tiny sense of pride every time I hear it. The same goes for her first steps and words. Parents use milestones as a proxy for the joy in seeing kids grow up, but also the satisfaction in figuring this whole thing out as we go.

If you’re talking to a parent and they seem excited about milestones, be happy for them. Even for the ones that seem mundane. They’re probably trying their best.

Reason 2: Gratefully Dad

Exercise: Reread the bullet points at the top of this post.

Now consider if (a) your child has done these things and (b) the circumstances in which a child would not have these firsts.

If you’re like me and (a) is true, then it’s probably worth being grateful for our time so far.

Reason 3: Time is a flat circle

A friend of mine poetically declared “time is a flat circle” after having his first kid. I think he is right, but only to an extent, because the onslaught of firsts eventually shatter the flat circle continuum.

We course correct from a slow, flat circle of time to a warp speed, linear sense of time. It all just goes so fast, partially because we accumulate firsts to use historical reference points so quickly.

Hi Mazey,

Today is your first birthday. That’s a special occasion. Enjoy it. You should be proud of the last year. I am too. Our little family of three worked hard to get here.

I’ve been working on this letter for months. Frantically scribbling notes and journal entries. Snapping mental photographs. Talking out loud to your Mom. And you. And myself. And the wall.

It’s not a masterpiece but I think that’s OK. There is some symbolism in there. I’m learning every day that you don’t really need a masterpiece. You just need us and that’s really great.

Your luck

You are lucky. So, so lucky.

You have two parents in the home. Grandparents, great grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends are all cheering for you.

You have a roof, food, toys, books, and clean diapers. Other families can’t say the same.

You are healthy and growing.  You spend time every day outside in Golden Gate Park. You swing and climb and play. Other children don’t get these luxuries.

Your future is completely open to possibility. Society will give you the benefit of the doubt when others don’t get that chance. The cards are stacked in your favor.

Our goal as a family is to never take this for granted and live up to the responsibilities this great fortune bears.

My luck

Everything above? That’s my luck too and it’s totally unfair. I don’t deserve this.

Time

Sigh. It’s feels clique to talk about how fast the time goes. I might as well have started with a quick check in on the weather today (warm, sunny, not foggy). But every new parent says the same thing. I’m no exception. Seriously, where did the last year go?

Wasn’t it just yesterday Mom gave me an early Valentine’s Day card that said her pregnancy test was positive? And then I left the next morning for a work trip in Las Vegas?

Wasn’t it just yesterday we sat in the park in Hayes Valley and ate pizza and opened an envelope that said you were going to be a girl?

Wasn’t it just yesterday the doctor recommended we pack up early and get to the hospital? And we stopped at Safeway to grab snacks and I bought a big bottle of conditioner because it was half-off?

My life is now split in two — before you joined us and after.

On love

You are loved. So, so loved. More than you know.