Ever had that moment when your child looks you dead in the eye and asks, “Are you even listening?” And you realize you’ve been nodding along to a conversation you haven’t actually heard? Yeah. Me too.

I have four kids, a full-time job, a newsletter, and a marriage I care deeply about. You’d think I’d be great at time management by now, but the reality is, I often find myself physically present but mentally elsewhere. And, unfortunately, my kids can always tell.

This article is about how I’m trying—really trying—to be a more present father. Not in a “I built my kid a treehouse in a single day with my bare hands” kind of way, but in small, meaningful, consistent ways that show them they matter.

And I’m going to be honest—this is hard. But if research tells us anything, it’s that being present with our kids isn’t just a nice-to-have; it’s crucial for their development, their sense of security, and our long-term relationship with them.

The Wake-Up Call: “Daddy, Are You Even Listening?”

The moment that made me rethink everything happened at the dinner table. One of my kids was telling me a long-winded story (you know the kind, where a single event somehow takes ten minutes to describe), and I was half-listening while thinking about work emails and my growing to-do list.

Then, mid-sentence, they stopped.

“Daddy, are you even listening?”

I panicked. Did I nod at the wrong part? Did they just ask me a question? Oh no…

I scrambled to repeat the last thing I heard, but my kid wasn’t fooled. They sighed, put their fork down, and said, “Never mind.”

Oof. That hit harder than stepping on a rogue LEGO in the middle of the night.

At that moment, I realized: I don’t want my kids to remember me as the dad who was there but not really there. My own parents did a fantastic job of showing up for everything. I think my dad only missed one of my events growing up, and I only remember it because he wouldn’t stop apologizing for not being there. I told him, ‘Dad, you’re at everything, always filming—it’s okay.’ And because of that example, I’ve made it a point to always be at my kids’ events too. I’m pretty stubborn about it. But what I’m realizing now is that while I show up for their big moments, I’m not always as present in the everyday, in-between moments that matter just as much.

Why Presence Matters More Than Time Spent

Like any modern parent, I did what we all do when we want answers—I Googled it. Turns out, it’s not just about spending time with your kids—it’s about the quality of that time.

A study published in Journal of Marriage and Family, titled “Does the Amount of Time Mothers Spend with Children or Adolescents Matter?” by Melissa A. Milkie, Kei M. Nomaguchi, and Kathleen E. Denny, found that the sheer number of hours parents spend with their kids isn’t the best predictor of positive outcomes. Instead, what truly matters is engaged, meaningful interactions—where we’re actively listening, responding, and participating. (NICHD Reference) 

Translation? You don’t need to spend all day with your kids. But when you are with them, you need to actually be with them—not thinking about work, not scrolling your phone, not making a mental grocery list.

So, I made a plan.

The “Be Present” Plan: How I’m Making Time for Each Kid

I realized I needed a system to make sure my kids get intentional, quality time with me. So here’s what I’m working on:

One-on-One Time Every Week

The plan is to schedule at least 30 minutes with each child, one-on-one. We will choose the activity together. It could be a walk around the block, baking cookies (or in my case, setting off the smoke alarm), a bike ride, running errands together (because even Home Depot trips can be bonding experiences), or fixing something in the house together (with four kids, something is always broken). The key? No distractions. No phones. Just them and me.

One Mini Adventure a Month

Once a month, I want to do something a little more special—not just a quick one-on-one activity, but an experience that feels different from our daily routine. This could be going to a trampoline park, visiting a local museum, trying out a new hiking trail, or going on a mini road trip for the best ice cream we can find.

One Big Adventure Per Year

This is the one I’m most excited about. Once a year, I want to do a one-on-one trip with each kid. Not a huge, expensive vacation—just something that’s theirs. A memory they’ll hold onto. It could be a weekend camping trip, a visit to a zoo or aquarium, a trip to a sports game, or a dad-and-kid getaway to a cabin. Again, the point isn’t extravagance—it’s making them feel seen and important.

What I Hope to See from This Change

I haven’t fully implemented this plan yet, but I’m excited (and, honestly, a little nervous) to see how it goes. Here’s what I hope happens:

  • My kids start looking forward to their one-on-one time.
  • I feel less distracted and more in the moment when I’m with them.
  • The sibling rivalry maybe dials down a notch (wishful thinking?).
  • I start to notice more of the little things—the way my kids think, what excites them, what makes them laugh.

I know it won’t be perfect. I’m sure I’ll mess up. I’ll probably forget an activity here and there, or one of my kids will say, “This is boring, can I go watch TV instead?”

But I’m committing to the process, because if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s this: My kids won’t remember how many emails I answered, but they will remember how I made them feel.

Final Thoughts: Your Kids Want You, Not Perfection

If you’re reading this thinking, I should probably be more present, you’re not alone. I’m still working on it, and I’m far from perfect.

But what I’ve learned is this: Your kids don’t need a perfect parent. They just need you.

Not you half-listening while on your phone. Not you distracted by work. You—fully there, even for just a little while.

So, if you’ve been waiting for a sign to be more present, here it is. Start small. Put your phone down. Listen. Ask them what they want to do. You might be surprised at how much they just want you.

And hey, if you need me, I’ll be at the trampoline park trying not to break an ankle.

The Focused Fool Newsletter – Growing as Men. Leading as Fathers.