For the last eight summers, me and my daughters have taken a Daddy-Daughters-only trip together to someplace fun and interesting. The first trip was to Utah, two weeks before school started. Our longest was 32 days in Longboat Key, Fla. Last year, however, that all changed when, during a trip to Lake Travis in Austin, Texas, my oldest daughter asked me for a favor.
“Dad,” she said, standing in the kitchen of the lakehouse at 9:39 PM, “Can we not do a Daddy-Daughter trip this year? This is my last summer of high school and I want to spend it [hanging out with] my friends.”
My first thought was, “Whew! Thank goodness I didn’t pay the deposit for the two-week trip to Montana.” My second thought was to tell her how great the cabin was in Montana, talk about all the fun we’d have, and nudge (that is, guilt) her into going. However, her next words to me resonated.
“Dad, we will go on many more Daddy-Daughters trips when I’m in college.”
I knew that was a fact. I also knew that she had a great group of amazing friends who were like sisters to her, and she wanted to spend as much time with them as possible before they head off on their separate paths after high school. Most importantly, I knew my time was limited.
It all changed that day
When she headed to bed, I pulled out my iPad and plugged some dates into the Timeanddate app. Up popped 1,045. That is, 1,045 days until both daughters left home. (My youngest graduates high school in 2025, mere days after I’m termed off Southlake City Council.)
In an instant, the things that mattered to me changed. Gone was any compunction to do those things that did not have a long-term ROI. I was singularly focused on one thing: What will I regret not doing when my daughters leave home?
This led to some tough decisions, but I have never regretted it.
Priority buckets
Things you need to do
Things you want to do
Things you should do
What that looked like before summer 2022
Before the summer of 2022 realization, I was Mr. Everywhere. If there was a party or gathering or meeting of any sort, I was there to show my support, and I enjoyed it. While I never, ever made these activities a priority over being there for my family, I realized that, going forward, my focus would be on my girls and my wife at the exclusion of any conflicting events. Specifically, I would be most focused on three key areas:
Supporting my wife and her career,
Supporting my oldest as she prepared for college, and
Supporting my youngest daughter, who is active in STEM (Robotics & Rockets), Mandarin, and Track & Field.
In the last year, I rejiggered my focus to be in line with my goals, and I have not regretted it. I eliminated the should do bucket in favor of the need to do and want to do buckets.
My current priority buckets
“True focus and true luxury is eliminating the should bucket,” said Scott Galloway, NYU professor, podcaster and writer, during a recent podcast. “You clear out all the shoulds and focus on ‘what do I need to do?’”
The results
As expected, I’ve had several conversations with folks asking “Where have you been? We don’t see you anywhere anymore”
I’ve been honest: I’m focused on being where my feet are. That means more time with my family.
The last year has been one of clarity. Killing the should do bucket means I have made more time to do those activities that yield the highest ROI. (Besides, there are no participation trophies. I love being there for others; however, my kids and wife have but one Dad and husband. I’m spending the lion’s share of my time where it matters most.)
As my oldest counts down the days before she heads to UT Austin, I’m happy I made the right decision in 2022. I still have 700-plus days before my youngest leaves home for college. I’m making every one of those days count—including via silly games.