TLDR: I’m not a parenting expert. I’m a dad of three daughters who is figuring it out in real time like everyone else. But there are a handful of small daily habits that consistently make me a better version of myself in that role, and none of them require more time than I actually have.
Being Present Is a Skill, Not a Default
Before I had kids I assumed being a good parent was mostly about showing up. You’re there, you’re engaged, you love them. That’s the job.
It took me longer than I’d like to admit to realize that showing up physically and actually being present are two completely different things. I could be in the same room as my daughters for an entire evening and spend most of it mentally somewhere else. Thinking about work, scrolling, half-watching whatever’s on TV, telling myself I’d really connect with them after I finished this one thing.
The habits I’ve built around parenting aren’t about being a more patient person or a more creative dad or any of the things that sound good on paper. They’re about closing the gap between being in the room and actually being there. That gap is where most of the damage happens and where most of the good stuff gets missed.
The Habits
Phone goes in another room when I get home. Not face down on the counter. Not in my pocket. In another room. This is the single highest-leverage habit on the list and the one I resisted the longest. The argument I made to myself was that I might need it. The reality is that I never need it as urgently as I think I do, and the difference in what I notice about my kids between phone-in-hand and phone-in-other-room is not subtle. They notice too, even when they don’t say so. Kids are very good at knowing when they have your full attention and when they have a fraction of it.
Ask one real question at dinner. Not “how was school.” That question has never once produced a useful answer. I mean something specific: “What was the weirdest thing that happened today?” or “Who did you eat lunch with?” or “What’s something you learned that surprised you?” One real question, asked with actual curiosity, consistently cracks open more conversation than twenty minutes of general check-ins. It also models something I want my daughters to absorb: that you get more out of people when you’re actually interested in them.
Say yes to the small things more often than feels natural. This one is hard when you’re tired. Can we play a game? Can you read one more chapter? Can we stay up a little later? My default when I’m depleted is no, because no is easier than yes and I’m already running on fumes. But I’ve noticed that the moments my kids bring up years later are almost never the big trips or the planned events. They’re the random Tuesday nights when I said yes to something small and it turned into an hour of genuine connection I wasn’t expecting. I try to pause before the automatic no and ask whether the real reason is that I actually can’t, or just that it’s easier not to.
Get my own stuff done before they wake up. This one is about me, not them, but it directly affects them. When I’ve already trained, had coffee, and done at least one focused thing before the day starts, I show up to the parenting part of my day with more patience and more energy than when I’m trying to squeeze my own needs in around everything else. A 5:30am run is not always appealing. But the version of me who got that run in is noticeably easier to be around than the version who didn’t.
Narrate the apology. I get things wrong as a parent. I lose patience, I say things the wrong way, I get distracted at the exact wrong moment. What I try to do, and don’t always manage, is apologize to my kids the same way I’d want them to apologize to someone else. Not a vague “sorry I was grumpy,” but a specific acknowledgment of what happened and why it wasn’t okay. Three daughters who are watching how I handle being wrong is three daughters who are learning what accountability looks like. That’s pressure I’m not going to pretend isn’t there.
Why These Fit My Life
I train like an athlete, I work full time, I play hockey and rugby, I’m building a blog in whatever time is left over. My life is not going to suddenly become less full. The habits that work for me as a parent have to fit inside the life I actually have, not the quieter, more spacious version of it I might have in theory.
None of the habits on this list require a significant block of time. They require presence, intentionality, and a willingness to make the right choice in a small moment instead of the easier one. That’s doable even on the hard weeks. Maybe especially on the hard weeks, because the hard weeks are exactly when the people in your house most need you to be actually there.
What Gets in the Way
Exhaustion, mostly. There are days where I’ve done a hard workout, worked a full day, and still have three kids who need dinner and homework help and someone to listen to them. Those are the days when the phone stays in my pocket and I ask “how was school” and I say no to the extra chapter without really thinking about it. I don’t have a clean solution for those days. I just try to have fewer of them than the good ones.
Travel is the other one. When I’m away for work or a race, the physical proximity is gone and most of these habits don’t translate to a FaceTime call. What does translate is showing up to those calls without distractions, asking real questions, and being honest with my kids about where I am and when I’ll be back. The habit underneath all the other habits is just: be actually present for whatever form of contact is available.
How to Start
Pick the one that feels most honest for where you are right now. Not the one that sounds best. The one where you already know, if you’re being straight with yourself, that you’ve been leaving something on the table. Start there. One habit, done consistently, will change more than five habits done sporadically.
Try This First
Tonight, when you get home, put your phone in a different room for the first hour. Not because you have to, because you want to see what’s different. Pay attention to what you notice about your kids that you usually miss. That’s the whole experiment. Run it once and see what it tells you.
Take what’s useful. Leave the rest.