To you, it’s twinged with a little bit of dread. Or exhaustion. Or obligation. Or you just plain take it for granted.
Because you’re tired. Because it’s your day-to-day reality. Because you’re just trying to survive. Because it’s really hard. Because you’re not thinking about what it would be like to not have these things or to not get to do these things.
In Morgan Wade’s haunting and beautiful song “Hardwood Floor” (you can listen to her on the Daily Stoic podcast here) she sings from the perspective of someone trying to have a baby. She feels sick seeing the baby aisle at the store. She actually smiles when she sees her nephews and nieces throwing a tantrum. She dreams of having to quietly close a nursery door, the one you grouchily lectured your spouse for not doing quietly enough. She wishes she could hear ‘little feet on the hardwood floor’—the same feet that perhaps just recently you were frustrated to hear because they’re supposed to be in bed.
It’s easy to forget how many people would love to be in your position, who are dreaming of the opportunity to have what can so often feel like a burden or a struggle. Those people going through IVF, those people grieving, those people whose kids have moved out…they wish they had what you have. They wish they could deal with the mundanity, the responsibilities, even the fatigue. They wish they could hear those little feet on the hardwood floor.
Remember this.
Take a breath and think about it when you’re getting frustrated at your kids during bedtime or when they’re interrupting your conversation or the next time you have to pay some expensive tuition bill. Think about how lucky you actually are. About how fleeting this beautiful time is. About how some people wish to be parents but never will be, or are trying very hard to make that dream happen. Be present and think about what you have. Don’t take it for granted.
One of my favorite ways to practice gratitude and save memories or thoughts about parenthood is journaling. I take time, usually in the evenings, to write a few lines about something funny my kids did or said, an issue that came up, a parenting challenge my wife and I may have faced, or something that I want to remember. And any of us can do this—just swapping out 5-10 minutes of scrolling each night can open up that precious time for it.
We created the Daily Dad Five Year Reflection Journal to help you do this. It’s already been a welcome addition to my own journaling practice, and it’s a structured, easy way to reflect and create lasting memories for you and your family.
Each day of the journal presents a thoughtful question about parenthood. You’ll write a brief response in the first of five entry slots. Next year on the same date, you’ll answer the same question in the second slot. The questions won’t change, but you will. Your children will.
And five years from now, you’ll hold in your hands not just a journal, but a map of the journey—proof that during these overwhelming, exhausting, extraordinary years, you were present. You paid attention. You did the work.
Get your Daily Dad Five Year Reflection Journal and start your practice today!
