During a recent gathering at our local community center, I listened as a father of five shared his insights on parenting with a group of dads. His children ranged from ages 7 to 21, and while he covered various topics, one point resonated deeply with me: “Fellas, when you walk through that door after work, just drop your bag and let the kids climb all over you. It’s so important.” The moment was so emotional that he began to cry, which took us all by surprise—not from sadness, but from a place of regret.
I have three kids myself, aged 2, 7, and 9. When my eldest, Liam, was born, I was just 24 and balancing college with a part-time job. As he grew and eagerly awaited my return home, I often overlooked the joy of letting him climb on me. While he would cling to my leg with excitement, I frequently prioritized my own needs: grabbing a bite to eat, catching up with my partner, or diving into my phone. I believed that my commitments were for the benefit of my family, but in the process, I often pushed my young son away, and I regret that.
Fast forward to today, and Liam has entered the world of preteens. When I come home now, he’s usually glued to the sofa, absorbed in a video game. I crouch beside him, pull off one of his headphones, and ask about his day. He responds with a casual “okay” before returning to his game. In those moments, I can’t help but feel the gap that has formed between us, a gap that I unwittingly contributed to by not embracing him when I had the chance.
Reflecting on that father’s advice, I realized the importance of physical connection with my children. The day after our community center meeting, as I parked my car in front of our house, I found myself mindlessly scrolling through social media. Suddenly, a knock on my passenger window jolted me back to reality. It was my 7-year-old daughter, Mia, radiating excitement as she greeted me. She had been eagerly watching for my arrival, and there I was, distracted.
I set down my phone and opened the car door. Mia hopped into my lap, sharing the exciting news that her teacher was pregnant. We pretended to drive the car for a bit, and when we finally ventured inside, my 2-year-old, Lily, latched onto my leg, demanding my attention. I dropped my bag, crouched down, and welcomed her into my lap. Mia joined us, and we enjoyed a delightful snuggle.
Unexpectedly, Liam noticed the warmth of our family moment and approached us, smiling shyly before giving me a hug. After a long day, I often want nothing more than to retreat and relax, yet I realized how invaluable those moments of connection are. They remind me of the joy that comes from simply being present.
So, to all the working parents out there, I encourage you to embrace this practice. Make it a priority to let your kids climb all over you when you come home. It won’t take much time, but the warmth and connection you’ll foster will be worth every second. No regrets, just love.
If you’re interested in family planning options, check out our post on at-home insemination kits. For additional support in your journey, consider reaching out to experts like those at TFP Wessex Fertility or listening to informative podcasts such as the one from Cleveland Clinic.
In conclusion, the moments we share with our children are fleeting. Prioritizing those interactions not only strengthens our bond but also enriches our lives immeasurably.