One big change after becoming a parent is a far deeper connection to other people’s kids.

A bunch of nieces and nephews were there before. I loved them from day one. But now they gnaw at my heart like they’re my own.

My friend’s kids were there before. They were cute and nice. But now their health and safety and security feel terrifyingly tangible and fragile and fleeting.

I would have agreed that every baby deserves a clean diaper before. Maybe I even signed a petition. Now my heart aches and head hurts thinking about families choosing between food and diapers.

I stumbled across stories like Team Beans before. I knew it was bad stuff then, but the hardest I’ve cried after becoming a parent was following Beans’ journey in 2020.

I know I’m not alone. Other Dads have shared a similar sentiment.

The question is what do we with this newfound feeling of responsibility?

All things considered, it was not a great morning to cook up some banana pancakes.

The big kiddo woke up on the wrong side of the bed. The little kiddo didn’t really sleep at all. An outsider would see two tired parents floating through a cold, rainy, frazzled, Tuesday morning.

Despite all that, Courtney got to work busting out the ingredients and firing up the stove. We flipped on Jack Johnson and the whole thing turned into a big family activity.

The mood was changed. The morning was changed. She nailed it. Amazing.

We yield a tremendous amount of influence over our kids. One way to do that right is by showing them this morning is actually a perfect morning for banana pancakes.

One thing parents do every day is make a bunch of little decisions. The same is true when you’re growing a business or managing a team.

In the moment, these little decisions may not feel like much. Something needs to get done and a concise (ethical) choice is made on how to do that. By tomorrow, or the next hour, you’ve moved on to something else.

Sometimes a little decision matters to the big picture.

Sometimes it is completely detached from anything other than the present.

Sometimes you make a little decision knowing it may backfire later, but you do it anyway.

Sometimes you make a little decision unaware of the future consequences.

Sometimes you do it so fast you don’t even realize you’re actually making a decision.

Sometimes your little decision adds technical or relational or financial debt.

Sometimes your little decision is completely selfless, other times it feels selfish.

Your brain and body take a toll with so many forks in the road, so probably best to create some structure on how to even think about tomorrow’s little decision #1,326.

When the moment feels like a Have To and not a Get To.

When there are important things to do.

When you don’t feel great.

When the house is messy.

When patience is thin.

When you’re tired.

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These are usually the moments you hear them give a hint on what to do next:

Come play with me!

Let’s do sock skating in the hall!

Bounce me on the big ball!

I’m going to climb on you!

//

Take their hint. You won’t regret it.

Version 1: Lack of sleep

Your body needs sleep, but you aren’t getting enough.

This hits hard early and continues on for a while. It’s what people are asking about when they say “How’s the sleep going?” and “Getting any sleep?”

This version of tired is real.

Version 2: Wear and tear

The ups and downs. The tests of patience. Day in and day out. Raising kids is hard.

This crayon is the wrong color. There aren’t enough blueberries. Every waking moment is snack time. Skipped naps. The diaper need not be worn.

Version 2 is compounded by Version 1, but don’t confuse the two.

Version 3: Choose your own adventure

Staring at a screen. Sitting all day. Not exercising. Bad posture. Eating unhealthy. Not reading. Not saying I love you. Not being grateful for the little things. Not serving others. Blaming others. Woe is me.

Sure, you can let Version 3 be the norm, especially when Versions 1 and 2 are hitting hard.

But Version 3 is ultimately your call.

One weird thing about parenting is it’s an every day type of thing.

Even days when you feel a bit off the hook, you’re still on the hook.

Maybe that means helping your wife with a weird daycare situation from a business lunch at Buca di Peppo. Maybe that means worrying about all the usual stuff but from a hotel in Cleveland. Maybe that means just staring at photos of your kids on a flight home.

You’re off the hook. But really, you’re on. That’s just part of the deal.

6:59 PM and you’re working through an epic post-bath meltdown.

7:37 AM and tears are flowing about going to school and what’s in the lunchbox and which shoes to wear.

1:44 PM and any hope for your child to nap is diminishing as the crying gets louder.

August 19 and today is the day she leaves for college.

In the moment, parenting is so deeply personal.

This is my kid. These are our experiences. No one else is here to manage this meltdown. No one else feels our morning madness. No one else is here on the couch wishing the kid would just take a nap. No one else is sending my kid off to college.

Sure, this is all true, but don’t forget everyone else. All the other parents and kids and families working through their own versions of this stuff.

Someone, somewhere is managing a post-bath time meltdown right now. And every morning parents across your city are wrangling kids out the door to school. Every August, tons of parents grieve the next step of parenting with a kid at college.

Just like optimism, this perspective doesn’t solve all your problems.

But right now, this very moment, someone else is in it too.

A good friend told me a story recently.

His daughter was put in the middle of some unfair politics at high school.

Not the typical drama of dating and breakups and cliques and popularity contests. We’re talking about the adults in the room whose egos are yielding negative outcomes for the kids.

My friend’s daughter is smart. She is tough and mature for her age. She has a bright future.

This has been hard though. It’s unfair. She has cried a lot.

He capped off the story with “It’s a good reminder that my daughter is still just a kid. It’s easy to forget that.”

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I do that too. I forget my kids are kids.

It’s not like I expect Mazey to get a job or Anders to clean up after himself.

But moments of impatience? Or feeling like woe is me? Those are usually just a symptom of me forgetting my kids are just kids.

Don’t forget kids are kids.

Some days you just can’t find a pacifier.

There are seven in rotation, so how they all magically disappear makes no sense. The purpose of buying seven is to prevent this exact situation.

You check all the usual spots. Diaper bag. Jacket pockets. Dishwasher. Stroller. Car seat. Car door. Behind the crib.

You check all the weird spots. Above the refrigerator. Inside the refrigerator. Glove compartment. Sock drawer.

No luck. Bewildered. Annoyed.

But tomorrow? Tomorrow is a new day and things start to look up. You find a pacifier under the sofa. One in the soil of a potted plant. One in a shoe. Two in your work backpack. And so it goes until you find all seven.

The stakes are low with pacifiers, but there is something to learn from this rhythm of life.

Parenting is easy when it’s easy.

When the kids are healthy.

When they sleep through the night.

When they gladly let you change a diaper.

When they have no qualms about getting in their car seat.

When they color on the paper.

When they eat the delicious food you worked so hard on.

When they take a nap.

When they politely do what you ask.

When they don’t hit each other.

When they appreciate the expensive outing.

……..But what happens when everything is the opposite?

It’s easy when it’s easy but it probably counts the most when it’s not.