How A Dead President Helped Me Become A Better Dad.
Timeless lessons on fatherhood that 99% of dads get wrong.
I adore my son.
Known for being the passionate, driven leader, who wears his heart on his sleeve. His cuddles make me feel like the most important person in the world.
But sometimes he is impossible to be around.
We’re cycling to school and he’s upset at me for going too fast.
“YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!”
His 8-year-old fists are bunched into tiny balls of fury. Eyes glistening red with rage. His bike disdainfully strewn across the footpath.
We’d started on the wrong foot when, running late for school, I tried to rush him out the door.
That never works. Especially when the 8-year-old in question is diagnosed with ADHD. When I finally got home I was exhausted from negotiating with this tiny terrorist.
With a steaming mug of coffee, I opened The Daily Stoic to a quote from Benjamin Franklin that floored me.
“An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”
I had done it all wrong.
Shame washed over me. It wasn’t Johnny’s fault. It was mine.
The titanic blowout on the way to school was entirely preventable.
I snapped out of the pity-party quickly. Dwelling on failure wasn’t getting me anywhere. My mistake wasn’t a personality flaw.
It was a design flaw.
Design for the way the world is, not as it should be.
Mornings with kids are mad. Especially with the injection of ADHD. But trying to impose perfect order is insanity.
Rather than becoming frustrated and impatient, expect resistance. Design for the rebellious heel-dragging and do something productive while you are waiting.
Being late is not the end of the world.
Now, rather than yelling upstairs to hurry, I do one of these things instead:
- Meditate in my office.
- Continue writing my next article.
- Prepare my next pot of coffee.
- Do a few push-ups.
Franklin’s famous phrase was originally a rallying cry for fire safety.
But it is equally potent at putting out parenting blazes.
Just don’t wait until the house is on fire to turn the hoses on.
This made me wonder what else the founding father has to teach me about raising good kids — and being a good dad.
So I went digging and found this wise nugget.
“Lost time is never found again.”
99% of parents get quality time completely wrong.
Up until recently, that included myself.
I love road-tripping with my kids.
We listen to podcasts, take turns choosing a song, and play who-would-beat-who in a superhero beatdown. It’s a chance to connect with the two people who matter most to me.
But I hate being stuck in traffic.
The morning after my blowout with Johnny, we’re driving to school. The traffic is bumper to bumper. A parade of frustrated motorists stretches as far as the eye can see.
“Should’ve ridden our bikes,” I grumble.
I’d become lost in the impatient mélange of tooting horns and creeping taillights — and I’m missing the point.
The traffic jam isn’t an inconvenience. It’s an opportunity.
We don’t need a carefully planned road trip to connect with each other. It’s the mundane moments where relationships are forged.
Stop spending quality time with your kids.
You don’t need to manufacture high-quality moments to bond with your children.
All time is created equal. Brushing your teeth together with bubblegum toothpaste can be just as fulfilling as the picnic planned weeks in advance.
Find that connection by being present in the unremarkable, everyday aspects of their lives.
- Playing competitive sock-matching while folding the laundry.
- In a traffic jam playing who can spot the yellow car.
- Having a trolley derby in the grocery store.
- Debating the best Avengers team roster over dinner.
- Ranking your least favorite Taylor Swift albums during an evening walk.
Moments like these are the spice of a parent-child relationship.
Don’t squander them.
Being a good dad is hard.
So much of fatherhood is about balancing fire hazards while savoring the mundane moments before they slip away.
You didn’t get to go to dad school. It doesn’t exist.
But that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone. Turn to the wisdom of those who have done it before.
Like Ben Franklin, I have my parenting flaws. But I’m also a devoted father who has been through the rollercoaster. My journey, with all the ups and downs, has led me to embrace fatherhood as the most noble pursuit a man could have.
Reach out man. I’d love to help.
“If you would be loved, love, and be lovable” — Ben Franklin.
👉 Ready to transform your life and become the dad you’re meant to be? I’ve walked the path through loss and separation, and become a kickass dad as a result. Now, I’m dedicated to helping other dads navigate their challenges and create a powerful, empowering identity as fathers. If you’re ready to start your journey, let’s connect and begin your transformation today. Reach out to me at hello@tonystevens.co.nz.
