Jacob started crying in the car when I picked him up from school today (“pajama day”) and it left me momentarily speechless. As I gathered myself, I slowly began to probe. Apparently, some kids were making fun of the PJs he wore, calling them a baby’s. 

As a parent, it’s my nature to hang on to my kids. When something threatens their safety, I pull them in. When I want to provide for their needs, I pull them in. When I want them to know how much I love them, I pull them in. These are all good—and necessary—but I need to get comfortable with letting them go.

Approximately 80% of Americans have a sibling and the sibling relationship is the longest relationship most people will have in their lives because parents pass on and spouses and kids come later. Our boys are 26 months apart and watching them interact at this young age has its moments that both warm and ache our hearts. 

Building inroads into our kids' hearts take time, both in the duration of days-months-years sense and the number of minutes spent each day sense. Bringing a life into the world is a beautiful thing, but just because we do this part doesn't mean we'll automatically have a deep and meaningful lifelong connection.

The other week Jenny and I started looking for a bunk bed for our boys and ended up going to Ikea. We’ve all walked through similar showrooms and plopped ourselves down on one of those sofas before. As I sat there in that pseudo living room, everything looked really nice but it was so evident that something was desperately lacking: warmth. 

These are my boys, Jacob, 5, and Christopher, 3, and they steal my heart every day. After 11 years of marriage and two kids, I’m convinced even more that the home is the most important place of personal formation and incubator of potential on Earth. I’ve been teaching/leading people of all ages for the past 20 years and one thing is clear: change doesn’t happen easily. 

Yesterday, it rained and all our boys could think of was going out to play and all I could think of was why that was a bad idea. It got me thinking of my childhood and how I used to love jumping in puddles and not having a dry inch on my body. That got me to ask a question: When did I start trying to avoid the rain?

All children are dreamers. The challenge is to remain one into adulthood. Let's always give space for our kids to experiment, make mistakes and rise again. Tell your children (and yourself), "NEVER STOP DREAMING!"

We work hard to advance in our careers and provide for our families. When the stresses and responsibilities mount, sometimes we just need to hold those we love close to us to remind us why we work so hard.

All the parenting books and mentorship helped when we had our first child but, even then, we didn't have a clue 😂. We're learning as we go and we are better parents, not despite our mistakes, but because of them, for it was the mistakes that gave our love a deeper meaning. Let's strive to be loving and learning parents, not perfect ones!

The words we consistently use and the attitude we regularly portray to our spouses, children and significant people in our lives have powerful influence in sculpting their futures.

Home is our genesis and benchmark. We spend our energy trying to erase or enhance what happened there.

Tell them what they are, not what they're not. Tell them what they can do, not what the cannot.