March 31, 2025
Let’s be honest: balancing work and raising kids is messy, exhausting, and sometimes feels impossible.
It’s also the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
That’s the beautiful contradiction of being a dad that nobody fully explains to you beforehand.
I live in the constant tension between building a business and building a family—neither one waits patiently while I focus on the other.
Some days I nail it. Many days I don’t.
But I’m learning that the struggle itself might be the point.
Even on the hardest days, I wouldn’t trade this journey for anything.
The joy makes the chaos worthwhile.
The Invisible Weight
There’s not enough conversation about how heavy the mental load is for modern dads.
We’re expected to provide, be emotionally available, pick up slack, and still succeed professionally—but society gives us very few outlets to talk about the weight of all that.
With Logan (13), Henry (12), and Sophie (9), I’ve had to learn most lessons the hard way.
The hardest realization?
That compartmentalizing work and family doesn’t really work.
Everything bleeds into everything else.
That used to frustrate me, but I’ve learned to make the blend intentional rather than chaotic.
I’ve noticed that in our current era, there’s no real community around fatherhood like there was fifteen or twenty years ago.
Most dads I know are just trying to figure it out alone.
There aren’t natural gathering spots or easy ways to connect over shared experiences.
The isolation can be intense—especially when, like me, you’re trying to raise a family while building things that are not just economically sound, but meaningful and purposeful too.
The Advice I Give (That Nobody Wants)
I recently had a conversation with a client who’s expecting his first child in a few weeks.
I started by acknowledging that when everybody gives you advice, it’s really freaking annoying.
But there are some truths worth sharing, even if they’re hard to hear.
Here’s what I told him:
You have three weeks till you have a baby. I know you spend a lot of time with your wife, right?
But go out, overdo it right now. Overdo the amount of time that you spend together doing things that you take for granted.
Going out to dinner, walking down the street, going to a movie, impromptu things that, frankly, you’re probably not going to have the ability to do for the next eighteen years.
It’s blunt, but true.
The transition to parenthood transforms your relationship in ways you can’t fully anticipate.
The spontaneity largely disappears, replaced by a beautiful but demanding new reality.
One thing I don’t take for granted is having a partner who’s deeply in tune with me, not just emotionally, but philosophically.
Julie and I may play different roles at different times, but we pick up slack for each other constantly.
When I’m stretched thin, she steps in. When she’s overwhelmed, I do.
We support each other in the chaos, in the quiet moments, and in the figuring-it-out-as-we-go.
That kind of alignment makes a huge difference—not in making things easy, but in making them possible.
Finding Connection in the Digital Noise
One of the biggest challenges I see is how everybody hides behind screens now.
The effects are visible everywhere—kids would rather play Roblox than bike in the streets the way we used to.
It’s simply easier to communicate through digital means than to engage face-to-face.
I’ve found that micro-moments of connection often matter more than grand gestures.
Those little spontaneous outings or one-on-one times cut through the noise in ways that planned “family time” sometimes can’t.
Some approaches that work for my family:
- I’m the only one in the house without a lightsaber. I’ve learned to dive into their worlds rather than always expecting them to adapt to mine.
- We play guitar together—not with any formal lesson in mind, just to explore and enjoy the moment. There’s no set goal, but what comes out often sounds surprisingly good. And it’s amazing what kids will share when you’re sitting side by side making music, rather than sitting across from them trying to have a “talk.”
- Spontaneous escapes change everything. I’ll come home and, on a whim, say, “let’s go out.” Sometimes I’ll leave my wife home so she can do yoga, and I’ll take the kids out for Mexican. It completely changes the dynamic because at home, they just want to fight.
- I bring my work world into theirs. We own a chocolate company in one of our private funds, and I’ll bring the kids to visit. They see how the product is made, priced, packaged, marketed, and sold. It’s amazing to watch them absorb those lessons and connect the dots in their own lives.
One of my biggest beliefs is that kids learn best when they do life with you—not when you give them lectures, but when they experience things by your side.
The Book I May Never Write
One item on my bucket list is writing something for my kids—something that captures the lessons I’ve picked up about life, family, money, and relationships.
I don’t have the time right now, but the desire is always there.
I want to pass on what I’ve learned, not in a preachy way, but as a collection of observations that might help them navigate their own paths with fewer stumbles than I had.
Time is the biggest constraint, of course.
Between running a business and raising three active children, finding moments for personal projects is challenging.
But the desire to leave something meaningful remains strong.
No Neat Conclusions
I don’t have this figured out.
Every day brings new challenges as a dad and a leader, and what works for my family might not work for yours.
But I’ve found that approaching parenthood with the same intentionality I bring to business decisions has served me well.
For me, success isn’t about mastering fatherhood or business—it’s about being intentional, showing up fully in both worlds, and forgiving myself when I fall short.
Some days I get it right; others I don’t.
But the effort to balance these two central aspects of my life continues to be the most important work I do.
If you’re a parent trying to build something meaningful while raising children who don’t turn into psychopaths, know that you’re not alone in finding it challenging.
The struggle is real, but so are the moments of connection that make it all worthwhile.