We came across this video on IG the other day. Two guys talking about what actually turns boys into men and men into stronger men. Not motivational fluff, not chest-thumping. Real stuff. The stuff you feel in your gut.

Scott Galloway, who talks like your brutally honest uncle who happens to teach at NYU. Chris Williamson, the ex-club promoter turned philosopher-podcaster who has made self-development cool without making it cringe.

Different lanes. Same take. Men grow through risk. The right kinds. The kinds we avoid as adults because life gets comfortable.

And as dads, this hit a nerve. Our kids are watching how we deal with risk. Not the big dramatic stuff. The daily stuff.

Watch the Video

Why This Conversation Matters for Dads

Somewhere between your first paycheck and your first kid, life gets padded. You stop doing things that scare you a little. You play for safe decisions, safe routines, safe circles. Before you know it, you are living the same year on repeat.

Galloway and Williamson basically say: that is how men shrink.

The fix is simple. Put yourself in places that stretch you. Not crazy risk. Just uncomfortable growth.

And your kids notice. More than you think.

The Big Idea

Galloway kicks things off with a strong hit. Young men should intentionally walk into rooms where they feel outmatched. Better schools. Better jobs. Better people. Go where you are slightly unqualified and grow into the version of you who belongs there.

Williamson adds that you really are the average of the five people closest to you. Not just your friends but also the voices you let into your earbuds.

For dads, this is a quiet reminder. Kids copy what they see. If you only choose safe rooms, they will too.

The Process: The Risks That Build Men

These are the hits from the convo. Think of them as reps you can actually do.

1. Get into rooms where you feel behind

Not because you like feeling behind. Because it forces you to level up.

2. Choose high-character friends

Not rich guys. Not impressive guys. Men you genuinely admire. The kind who make you want to be better.

3. Be the person who lifts others

There is a study in the video. Turns out high school popularity was about who made others feel good, not who had the best jawline or fastest 40. Appreciation is a superpower.

4. Train confidence like a skill

Compliments. Conversations. Taking small chances. Williamson calls it evidence. Confidence comes from doing the thing a little before you feel ready.

The Sauce

A few things the video hints at, even if it does not say them outright:

  • Initiate instead of waiting for permission

  • Surround yourself with men who sharpen you

  • Use podcasts, books, mentors as your “five friends”

  • Treat relationships like training partners

These are small, repeatable acts. They build character the same way steady workouts build strength.

The Takeaway

Risk is not a one-time act. It is a muscle. It grows from small, daily decisions. Every time you choose the harder conversation, the scarier opportunity, the uncomfortable room, you build a little more confidence.

Your kids do not need you to climb Everest. They need to see you stretch. They need to see you try. They need to see you get uncomfortable on purpose.

That is how men grow. And that is how dads raise kids who are not afraid of life. Be the kind of man who keeps walking toward the hard things. Not to show off. To grow. Your kids will feel that energy. They will copy it. And that might be the most important thing you pass down.

Every December, dads across America transform into a strange hybrid creature: part logistics coordinator, part gift-wrapping intern, part sugar-intake referee, part human fire hazard plugging in way too many lights.

It’s festive.
It’s chaotic.
It’s… a lot.

And here’s the kicker: despite the carols and cookies, the holidays are one of the most stressful stretches of the year for parents. Your sleep takes a hit. Your patience thins. Your gut feels like it’s been replaced by a Yule log.

But holiday stress doesn’t have to steamroll you. Most of the chaos is predictable — which means you can get ahead of it like the seasoned dad you are.

This is your Dad Bod Holiday Survival Playbook: simple, dad-friendly interventions to keep you steady, sane, and maybe even festive.

THE REAL REASONS DADS GET STRESSED THIS TIME OF YEAR

Let’s call out the culprits:

  • Sleep debt disguised as “late-night gift prep.”

  • Work deadlines that refuse to chill for the holidays.

  • Kids hopped up on peppermint bark.

  • A social calendar that requires four clones and one teleportation device.

  • Silent mental load items (“Did I move the elf?” “Where’s the wrapping paper?” “Do we have batteries??”).

It’s not that dads can’t handle stress — it’s that we try to brute-force our way through it.

This year? We’re doing it smarter.

via GIPHY

1. Go to bed when the kids go to bed — once a week.
Not forever. Just one night. It’s a hard reset for the system.

2. Take a 10-minute “movement break” in the living room.
Push-ups, a few air squats, a stretch that looks like you’re summoning ancient spirits. Whatever loosens the holiday tension.

3. Swap one doom-scroll session for an actual book chapter.
Doesn’t need to be deep. A thriller, a dad memoir, even a cookbook counts. Your brain will thank you.

4. Give the kids a “yes window.”
Ten minutes where you say yes to whatever reasonable thing they want to play. It weirdly lowers everyone’s stress — including yours.

5. Build a mini ritual: hot drink + 5 minutes of silence.
Tea, cocoa, coffee, whatever. You don’t need a full meditation practice — just one quiet moment that’s yours.

6. Step outside once a day — no phone.
Cold air + zero notifications = calm dad reboot.

7. Do one thing that makes Future You’s life easier.
Lay out tomorrow’s clothes. Clean the sink. Set the coffee pot. Tiny prep, huge payoff.

8. Plan a small family outing with a low bar for success.
A neighborhood lights walk. A drive with holiday music. A 20-minute park stop. Fun doesn’t need production value.

9. Give yourself permission to enjoy a holiday treat — guilt-free.
Cookies aren’t the enemy. Stress is.

10. Delegate one task you normally hoard.
“Hey, can you wrap two gifts?” “Can you grab batteries?” Hero dads don’t shoulder everything.

11. Text a friend you haven’t talked to in a while.
A simple “thinking of you” breaks the holiday isolation loop.

12. Rewatch something nostalgic with your partner.
Comfort TV is a mood-regulator disguised as entertainment.

13. Put your phone in another room for 30 minutes.
The fastest way to de-stress is to stop being a notification butler.

14. Volunteer somewhere.
Do some good this holiday season with your family. Give to a family in need. Make a meal. Show your kids the importance of giving back.

THE BIG IDEA: DON’T TRY TO “HAVE THE PERFECT HOLIDAY.”

The perfect holiday doesn’t exist. But the present dad does.

Your kids won’t remember how organized you were, how flawless the tree looked, or whether you baked the cookies from scratch or from a tube you panic-bought at 9 p.m.

  • They’ll remember the vibe.
  • The playtime.
  • The cozy moments.
  • The dad who wasn’t sprinting around like an overcaffeinated elf.

So this season, your mission is simple:

Stay steady. Stay human. Stay dad.

Everything else is decoration.

There is a special kind of courage required to do the holidays with your in-laws. Whether you’re packing up the kids and staying in their guest room or you’re hosting them in your house where the thermostat mysteriously moves on its own.

Not the “charge into battle” kind. More like the “stay steady while everyone has deeply held opinions about your turkey carving technique” kind.

But here’s the thing: every dad who has spent more than 72 hours in shared holiday space with in-laws knows a secret.

The in-laws aren’t necessarily the challenge. It’s the holiday machinery surrounding them.

It’s the perfect storm of expectations, personalities, traditions, and casseroles that should have been retired long ago.

So here’s your survival kit.

Step 1: Know the Mission Before You Deploy

Holiday gatherings are not just family time. They’re also diplomatic operations.

Your job is not to win the day. Your job is to get home intact without starting a generational feud.

Pick one mission:

  • Keep your partner happy.

  • Keep the kids from swinging ornaments like medieval weapons.

  • Stay away from political conversations.

  • Avoid being tricked into “a quick project.”

That is your priority. Everything else is noise.

Step 2: Become a Ghost When Necessary

Every dad deserves a strategic disappearance.

Bathroom break. Checking on the kids. Taking out the trash. Retrieving something from the car (which may or may not exist).

You are not hiding. You are resetting. A dad who resets is a dad who keeps the peace.

Step 3: Find Your Role and Lean Into It

Every family has roles. You do not choose them; they choose you.

You might be:

  • The Grill Guy

  • The Tech Fixer

  • The Kid Wrangler

  • The Heavy-Lifting Specialist

  • The Person Who Understands Wi-Fi

  • The Tupperware Organizer

Own the role. A man with a clear job gets left alone. A man without one gets recruited for every chore imaginable.

Step 4: Master Emotional Judo

Your in-laws will make comments. Not malicious. Just… comments.

  • “He looks tired.”

  • “She’s very energetic.”

  • “We never did that with our kids.”

  • “Are you sure that’s how you do it?”

Old you tightens up. New you redirects the energy.

Smile. Nod. Say “Interesting.” Move on.

Peace preserved. No emotional bruising.

via GIPHY

Step 5: Use the Kids as Shields, Assets, or Distractions

Kids are your all-purpose social tools.

Need to exit a conversation?
“She wants to show you something!”

Need a moment alone?
“We’re going to check on the toys.”

Need to leave early?
“We’re approaching meltdown o’clock.”

Use the chaos wisely.

Step 6: Build Allies in the House

There is always someone running the same internal monologue as you.

The brother-in-law who’s also trying to survive. The cousin with a dry sense of humor. The aunt who hands out snacks and honesty. The dog.

Find them early. Form a silent alliance. You’re stronger together.

Step 7: Remember Why You’re There

This is the grounding moment.

Holidays are messy. Families are complicated. Someone will absolutely comment on your parenting.

But your kids are watching how you handle it.

They’re learning how to be part of a family. How to show up with grace. How to be steady when things get weird. You’re not just surviving the holidays. You’re modeling adulthood.

That’s the whole point. Godspeed.


Trying to raise good kids without losing your mind? Same.

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Because nothing says “holiday bonding” like a pile of blankets, hot cocoa, and a film that keeps the kids smiling and lets Dad stay awake past the first act.

Not all Christmas movies are created equal. Some are pure magic. Others feel like punishment for sins you didn’t know you committed.

This is the Dad Day shortlist — films that deliver nostalgia, laughs, heart, and just enough chaos to feel like your actual living room in December.

1. Home Alone (1990)

The gold standard of Christmas chaos. Kids love the traps. Dads love imagining what they’d do with that kind of real estate and free time.

2. Elf (2003)

Will Ferrell in an elf suit = a perfect movie. One of the rare “everyone actually enjoys this” holiday picks.

3. The Polar Express (2004)

A Christmas serotonin boost engineered by Tom Hanks. Kids don’t notice the uncanny faces. They’re too locked into the magic.

4. The Santa Clause (1994)

Ah yes — the Tim Allen classic. The moment Tim Allen puts on the suit, you know you’re in for peak ’90s holiday comfort. A certified Christmas must-watch — and one that actually gets better as you get older.

5. How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000)

Jim Carrey at full throttle. Loud, weird, colorful, and somehow still deeply wholesome.

6. Klaus (2019)

A modern masterpiece. Beautiful animation + big heart + genuinely smart writing.

7. The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)

The best version of Dickens. Yes, better than the “serious” ones. Michael Caine acting like he’s in a Shakespeare play while surrounded by puppets = cinema.

8. Arthur Christmas (2011)

The most underrated Christmas movie of the last 20 years. If Santa had a logistics department, this is it.

9. A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965)

Slow, simple, classic. A perfect wind-down film after the sugar-high chaos of December.

10. The Christmas Chronicles (2018)

Kurt Russell as Santa. A Santa who looks like he lifts and owns a motorcycle jacket. Kids love it. Dads respect it.

Bonus Picks for “One More Before Bed?”

  • Frosty the Snowman

  • Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

  • Jingle Jangle

  • The Star (for younger kids)

The Dad Day Takeaway

Christmas movies aren’t just movies this time of year. They’re memory-makers. Couch-pile moments. Affordable holiday magic at a time when everything else costs triple.

And that’s the real gift.

Growing up, my dad had a handful of sayings he’d repeat to us before school, parties, or big events. Whether it was “read the damn problem” before a test, “proper planning prevents poor performance” before a speech or game, or “the hurrier I go, the behinder I get” when we rushed through something and made it worse — they were endless.

And, in my adolescence, admittedly annoying. But one that’s always stuck with me is: “Remember who you are, and where you came from.” That one usually came out before dates, going to a “friend’s house” (aka party) in high school, or leaving for college.

It was my dad’s simple reminder that our actions reflected not just on us, but on our family — and that first impressions are what reputations are built on.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to see that phrase differently. Whether it’s in a job search, finding a spouse, or becoming a dad, the best thing you can do is know who you are, be proud of that, and stick to your values. When something doesn’t sit right, have the courage to speak up — but also the humility to listen and respect a different perspective.

Now, as a new father, that saying hits even deeper. It makes me think about how I want my kids to remember me — how I make them feel. I want to be the kind of supportive dad mine was: someone they can come to with anything.

And while discipline has its place, love and understanding should always lead the way. For others, “remember who you are and where you came from” might mean something entirely different — maybe it’s a promise to never return to a painful place or mindset. And that’s just as meaningful.

In the end, that phrase can mean many things to many people — and that’s the beauty of it. But I do believe it’s one of the most important lessons we can pass down to the next generation.

Childproofing hits different once you’ve stepped on a rogue Hot Wheels at 2 a.m. or watched your toddler sprint toward danger with Olympic confidence. This guide is the dad friendly, no fluff version of how to actually make your home safer without bubble wrapping your entire life.

Childproofing isn’t about paranoia. It’s about knowing where the real risks hide so your kid can explore without you having a mini stroke every five minutes.

Start With the Big Picture

Most parents start with the cute outlet covers and ignore the stuff that can really cause harm. You’re not most parents. You’re a dad who reads checklists. Respect.

Here’s how to get the house ready for a tiny human who believes gravity is a suggestion.

The Dad Day Childproofing Checklist

1. Anchor Everything

If it can tip, it will. Kids pull up on furniture, climb drawers, and test IKEA like it’s American Ninja Warrior.

Must haves:

Do this:

  • Anchor dressers, bookshelves, and TVs

  • Skip the cheap straps and buy metal brackets

  • Check for wobble monthly

2. Lock the Cabinets That Actually Matter

You don’t need to lock every cabinet. Just the dangerous ones.

Recommended:

High priority:

  • Cleaning supplies

  • Medications

  • Tools

  • Liquor cabinet

  • Under sink anything

Let them destroy the Tupperware drawer. It builds character.

3. Gate the Danger Zones

Kids only want to go where they shouldn’t. Gates help you fight physics.

Best picks:

Gate these:

  • Stairs

  • Kitchens

  • Laundry rooms

  • Fireplace areas

4. Protect the Head Bonk Zones

Toddlers walk like drunk pirates. Corners and edges do not care (learned this the hard way).

Gear:

Focus on high traffic collision points. Skip foam padding your entire house.

5. Secure All Doors

They will figure out doorknobs. It is inevitable.

Helpful tools:

Bonus: Put a bell on the front door. Cheap early warning system.

6. Handle Electrical Like a Pro

Outlet covers are the entry level move. Level up.

Recommended:

7. Hard Floors and Soft Falls

Kids fall constantly. Harden the house, soften the impact.

Useful items:

8. Kitchen: The Danger Buffet

The kitchen is a carnival of accidents waiting to happen.

Add:

Use back burners, turn handles inward, keep hot mugs off edges.

9. Bathroom Safety Is Non-Negotiable

Bathrooms are slip factories.

Set up:

Lower water heater to 120 degrees for safety.

10. Make a Safe Zone

Kids need one space where they can go feral.

Build it with:

It’s not a prison. It’s controlled chaos.

Final Sweep: The Dad Day 60 Second Reset

Before bed or leaving the house, run this:

  • Close and latch cabinets

  • Pick up small objects

  • Check stove knobs

  • Unplug unnecessary appliances

  • Quick scan for cups, coins, or tools left out

The Takeaway

A childproofed home isn’t about removing every risk. It is about eliminating the predictable dangers so your kids can explore, topple, grow, and bounce back without a trip to urgent care.

Real dads don’t overprotect. They prepare the environment and let their kids learn inside it.

I never set out to become an expert in health insurance. I just wanted to take care of my family and not feel like I was lighting money on fire every month. If you’re self-employed, you know the drill. Every year it’s the same dance: compare plans, fill out forms, get hit with a number that makes you say, “There’s no way that’s right.”

For years, I paid over a grand a month for coverage that somehow didn’t cover anything. I’d get bills that made no sense, sit on hold for hours, and still end up paying for stuff I thought was included.

It’s the one part of being a dad and a business owner that always made me feel helpless. No matter how hard I worked, this one system had me beat.

One afternoon, I was sitting at the kitchen table doing that dreaded math again. Premiums, deductibles, out-of-pocket limits, and whatever else they can think up to confuse you. I just thought, this is insane.

I’d rather take that money and buy peace of mind somewhere else.

That’s when I found CrowdHealth.

At first, I figured “community health” was just another gimmick. It sounded like one of those vague startup ideas that disappears in six months. But I started reading, watched a few interviews, talked to a couple of members, and it just made sense. It was simple, transparent, and cheaper.

So I joined.

Within a month, my costs dropped by about 40 percent. My family of four went from paying $1,000 to under $600. And if something major happens, my max out-of-pocket is $500.

That’s it. No fine print. No “actually, that’s not covered.”

I still remember talking to my wife after that first month and saying, “I think this might actually work.”

The biggest game changer has been the virtual care.

With two little kids, someone is always coughing, sneezing, or breaking out in a rash. Now, instead of packing everyone in the car for urgent care, I just open the app, hop on a call, and talk to a real doctor. Usually within minutes.

They take their time, ask real questions, and if we need a prescription, it’s handled right there. It’s easily the most dad-friendly system I’ve ever used.

(And just to be clear, if it’s an emergency, you go to the ER. No question. This just covers everything else that makes parenthood a constant game of “Is this serious or just Tuesday?”)

But what really sold me wasn’t the cost or convenience. It was the community.

A few months back, I got an email from CrowdHealth about a woman who lost her husband unexpectedly. Members could chip in to support her as she faced life grieving an unimaginable loss while taking care of two little boys. My wife and I sent a little bit through Venmo.

It wasn’t much, but it felt right.

When was the last time your insurance company asked you to help someone instead of sending you another bill? That moment made it feel less like a system and more like a circle. Real people helping each other out.

I don’t usually write stuff like this, but switching to CrowdHealth has been one of the best calls I’ve made. Not just for our budget, but for my sanity. It’s simple. It’s human. And it doesn’t make me feel like I’m getting hustled every month.

I used to think traditional insurance was the responsible thing to do. Now I think being responsible means finding something that actually works.

So yeah, I’m not going back.

“Peace of mind shouldn’t cost more than your mortgage.”

Being a dad means protecting your family. Sometimes that means finding a smarter way to do it, even if it means walking away from the system everyone else says you need.

Editor’s Note:
Yep, we use CrowdHealth ourselves here at Dad Day. It’s been a game-changer for our own families, which is why we’re comfortable sharing this story.

If you want to give it a try, you can use our code DADDAY for a 3 month discount on your membership.

I’m assuming most of the dad’s out there had a pretty similar experience to learning as I did growing up. From elementary school to high school and any schooling thereafter, they all had a certain rhythm—the teacher or professor gives a lesson, you take notes (or, like me, you don’t), maybe you ask a question or two (or, like me, you don’t), then there’s a quiz to check progress, and finally The Big Test to see what you’ve learned. 

It’s predictable—you study, you prepare, and you take the test. In theory, you know what’s coming (or, like me, you don’t do any of these and simply hope your guessing game is on point on test day). 

But fatherhood? Oh man, fatherhood completely rewrites that playbook. 

  • In school, you learn the lesson, then take the test. 
  • In parenting, you get tested and then learn the lesson. 

There’s no syllabus for this parenting thing. No heads-up before a pop quiz. No cramming for The Big Test. 

In school, there’s consistency. Two plus two equals four, every time. The War of 1812 happened in 1812 every time (right?). 

But parenting? Every child and situation is slightly unique and hardly anything is consistent. It’s almost impossible to prepare or know what’s coming and when. 

Rarely, if ever, are two similar situations even remotely the same when you’re dealing with kids’ personalities, temperament, age, etc. When it’s time to take a bath, one kid may throw a temper tantrum while another may happily sprint to the bath to play in the water. That could all be completely different the next day. 

There’s no consistency. 

One day you’re coasting, thinking you’ve finally figured out this whole dad thing and the next, your toddler is having a meltdown in Target because you picked the wrong color of sippy cup. 

Test administered. Lesson pending. 

There’s No Study Guide for Fatherhood

Fatherhood is a lifelong series of pop quizzes and surprise tests. You don’t know when they’re coming or what subject they’ll be covering. Some are small—like realizing too late that nap time is sacred and should never, ever be disturbed. Others are bigger—like figuring out how to stay calm when your child says something hurtful or when your teenager makes a mistake that genuinely scares you. 

These tests don’t come with a study guide. You can’t tell your toddler mid-tantrum to hold still for a second while you review the lesson plan for Tantrums In Target. And, unlike school, there’s no clear right or wrong answer. Sometimes you get it right by instinct, and sometimes you don’t. 

So, as you’re standing in the middle of Target and after the tantrum finally gets to be too much, you lose your patience and say something you shouldn’t have, and you inevitably feel the sting of guilt afterwards. 

Test failed. 

Or, you get tested in a different way, one that on the surface seems like an easy A—your child is having a problem and you fix it. I mean, you’re Dad, right? You’re the parent who tries to fix every problem for your kids. That’s great until you realize later on that in order for them to succeed, they need to stumble a bit on their own. Although you had good intentions and a soft heart, you ended up taking the accomplishment away from them. 

Another test failed. 

(I’ll be the first to admit that this test is difficult for me to pass.) 

In both cases, unlike school, the lesson is learned after the test. 

You can’t mentally prepare for every situation because rarely will it happen how or when you thought it would. You just experience them as they happen, mess up, and grow from them. 

Failing The Test Is Okay 

Not all failure is equal. 

In school, failure feels like a fixed trait. You bombed the test, your grade drops, your confidence takes a hit, and you live the rest of your days believing that History just isn’t your subject (or mine, in this case) and never will be. But in fatherhood, failure doesn’t feel so final. If used properly, it feels more like growth. It’s like you already know failure is part of the deal; it’s part of the curriculum. You’re expecting it but just hoping you don’t fall on your face too hard. 

You fail, you reflect, you repair, and that is the learning. 

You learn patience by losing it. You learn empathy by forgetting to show it. You learn the power of words by saying the wrong ones.

The test comes first. Then the lesson. 

Who Needs a Study Guide Anyway? 

As I’ve been on this dad journey for nearly two years now, I’m slowly realizing that this backward way of learning may actually be better. School prepared me to get the right answer. Fatherhood is teaching me to keep trying even when I don’t have it. 

So, if you’re feeling like you’re constantly being tested and don’t have the right answers and are failing the tests—it’s okay. With each failure, you’re learning how to pass the next time. 

And remember, we’re all learning as we go. Nobody has this dad thing figured out beforehand. 

Oh, and don’t forget to suck up to the teacher (read: your spouse). If you do it right, it can help improve your grades (read: your life).

I can’t believe I’m even writing this. Seven years ago, I was holding a newborn and wondering how anyone does this whole “dad” thing. Now, my wife and I are getting ready for our third. It goes fast.

Everyone tells you that, but you never really believe it until you look up and realize your baby is riding a bike, correcting your grammar, or asking questions that make you pause before answering.

Seven years in, here’s what I know for sure.

1. It Goes Way Too Fast

You blink and they’ve changed. The nights feel long, but the years? They vanish. I still remember thinking I’d never sleep again, that my life was permanently on pause.

But now my seven-year-old is sixty pounds and half my height, and I honestly don’t know when the last time I carried him was. No one ever tells you when the last backyard game with your neighborhood crew happens. It’s the same with holding your kids. One day it’s just… the last time, and you don’t realize it until much later.

Don’t rush through the hard parts. Don’t wish for the next stage. Soak in the one you’re in, even if it’s messy, loud, and exhausting. Because it’s quietly slipping away while you’re busy trying to survive it.

what I've learned from 7 years of fatherhood

2. Kids Are Amazing Teachers

I thought parenting was about what I would teach them. Turns out, it’s the opposite. Kids are little mirrors. They reflect your best traits and your worst habits. They remind you to slow down, to laugh at dumb jokes, to actually watch the sunset instead of just snapping a picture of it.

They’ll humble you, test you, and somehow make you better without ever saying a word.

3. Change Comes From Wanting, Not Needing

I’ve changed, not because I was forced to, but because I wanted to. Kids don’t demand perfection. They demand presence (a lot of it). And that quietly forces you to grow up in the best way possible.

I care more about patience now (and the pursuit of it). About legacy. About how I show up. Parenthood doesn’t rewrite who you are; it refines it.

4. The Connection Takes Time

It took me until my kids were around two to feel like a real dad. The love was always there, but the connection changed. At first, it’s survival mode. You’re tired, confused, and mostly wondering if you’re doing any of it right. But then one day, they say “Daddy,” or reach for your hand, or tell you they love you out of nowhere, and it clicks.

It’s not instant for everyone, and that’s okay. The bond grows with time, not just proximity.

5. Some Days Are Really Hard

There are days when parenting feels like the heaviest weight in the world. You’ll lose your patience, question yourself, and wonder what happened to the version of life that felt simpler. And that’s normal. Sometimes I look back at life before kids, not out of regret, but curiosity. Who was that guy who had time to think, sleep, and shower in peace?

Here’s the truth: life didn’t get easier, but it did get richer. Every hard day is still a day with your kid in it. That perspective helps.

6. Take a Breath. They’re Clueless.

Kids don’t know what they don’t know. They’re figuring it out as they go, just like we are. When they spill, cry, lie, or melt down, it’s not personal. It’s human.

Take a breath. Remember they’re learning how to be people. And we’re learning how to be parents. Grace goes both ways.

7. It’s an Honor

Parenting isn’t just a job. It’s an honor. We get to shape these tiny humans. We get to model how to love, how to fail, how to get back up. That’s heavy, sure, but it’s also incredible.

Our kids won’t remember every toy or trip. They’ll remember how we made them feel. That’s the real work.

The Takeaway

Seven years in, I don’t have all the answers. Some days I feel like I’m crushing it; others, like I’m one tantrum away from a breakdown.

But I do know this: fatherhood isn’t about being perfect. It’s about wanting to be the best dad you can be. So take the photo. Read the book twice. Be the calm in the storm.

It’s going fast. Don’t miss the good stuff trying to get to the next thing. Easier said than done, but definitely something to strive for.

I have a picture of Ham Porter in my boys’ bathroom. He’s standing there, pointing to the outfield, mid-smack talk, big grin on his face. Every time I take care of business in their bathroom, I’m reminded of something simple: The Sandlot gets it right.

That movie isn’t just about baseball. It’s about friendship, courage, and figuring out who you are. Pretty much everything that matters in life, especially for dads raising boys.

Here’s what that movie keeps teaching me.

1. Every kid just wants a team

Scotty Smalls moves to a new town. No friends. No skills. Total outsider. But when Benny invites him to play, none of the other kids care how bad he is. They just want to know if he’ll show up tomorrow. That’s the secret to fatherhood too. Your kid doesn’t need the perfect dad. He needs the one who shows up. The one who picks up the glove and plays catch, even when he’s tired.

2. Let them get dirty

That sandlot field was a wreck. Uneven dirt. Rusty fence. Half the gear probably stolen from a garage. But it worked because the kids made it theirs. We’ve turned childhood into a safety seminar. Hand sanitizer, supervision, rules for everything. Kids need dirt. They need bumps and bruises. That’s how they figure out what they can handle.

3. Every kid needs a Benny

Benny “The Jet” Rodriguez saw something in Smalls before Smalls saw it himself. That’s the blueprint for being a dad. Your job isn’t to control the game. It’s to see the spark in your kid and fan it until it catches. Let them dream. Let them try. Be the guy in their corner saying, “You got this.”

4. Let them chase the beast

The boys spend half the movie running from that dog. Then one day they stop running. That’s the moment they grow up. Courage isn’t about being fearless. It’s about doing the thing anyway. As dads, our job isn’t to protect our kids from every fear. It’s to teach them how to walk toward it.

5. The game ends, but the story doesn’t

By the end, the field is gone. The boys grow up. Smalls calls games from the booth. Benny steals home. Different roles. Same team. That’s the goal for all of us. Our kids won’t need us forever, but if we do it right, they’ll still want us around.

The takeaway:
Every time I see that picture of Ham pointing to the outfield, I think about how simple it really is. Show up. Let them get dirty. Teach them to chase what scares them. Believe in them when they don’t yet believe in themselves.

That’s fatherhood.

Go outside. Throw the ball. Talk some smack. Laugh a little. Those moments build more than memories. They build men.