Putting It Down
There are some weeks where the hardest thing isn’t carrying the work.
It’s putting it down.
Not because it’s finished.
Not because it’s resolved.
But because if I don’t, it will consume every open inch of my headspace.
This week was one of those.
Work has been loud. Persistent. Demanding in a way that makes it feel like everything matters right now. Honestly, the real problem isn’t the workload itself. It’s how easily my mind keeps running through scenarios, plans, and next steps, even when I’m supposed to be off the clock.
So tonight, I’m choosing to put all of that down.
Not permanently.
Just intentionally.
Presence this Friday looks simple.
It looks like being in the same room.
Sometimes doing things together.
Sometimes just sharing space.
My daughter is going to her first school-friend birthday party as a thirteen-year-old. That sentence alone feels like it should slow time down a little. After that, she might go skating with her best friend, which means unexpected time with the boys — the kind of time that doesn’t get scheduled but ends up mattering.
Those moments count.
Each of the kids seems to be landing this week in their own way.
Jacob has been quieter. Needing space. Wrestling with something internal — maybe growing up, maybe that perfectionist streak we’ve always seen in him. Giving him room hasn’t been easy, but it’s been necessary.
Asher, on the other hand, has been all-in on dad time. The hugs come faster. They last longer. He’s reminding me how much presence can be felt, not explained.
David keeps shining in his own way, surprising us with what he can do and doing it quietly, without any fuss.
And Zoey… Zoey feels more settled. She seems more aware. She’s still very much a teenager, still a bit spacy in her own way, but she’s more at peace than she has been in a while.
Watching all of that at once is a lot.
But it’s also grounding.
Earlier this week, I noticed myself choosing presence instead of momentum in a very real way.
I took Tuesday off.
Not because it was convenient. It wasn’t.
Not because work could pause. It didn’t.
But because my family needed me. My wife needed a husband. My kids needed their dad.
So I stepped in. Breakfast. School runs. Homeschooling the younger two. Housework. Lunch. Pickups. Dinner. Nighttime routines. All of it.
Nothing flashy.
Nothing resumable.
Just showing up where I was needed most.
I’m ending this week still wound tight.
The stress is there, like a tattoo on my brain. I know it’s there. Others can see it. And I haven’t shaken it yet.
But I’m also aware enough not to scream into the wind.
The wind doesn’t hear you.
It doesn’t care.
It just throws everything back in your face.
So instead, I’m choosing a reset.
Tonight includes family time, however it naturally unfolds, and later, time with friends. Watching Rale on stream. Logging in with the core group. No agenda. No expectations. Just the familiar comfort of people who help lower your stress just by being there.
They’re friends who feel like family, even if we’ve never been in the same room together. Sometimes, that connection is exactly what helps steady the week.
This isn’t an escape.
It’s maintenance.
It’s how I make sure I’m still myself when Monday comes back around.
This is where I’m ending the week.
Still a dad. Still figuring it out.
Choosing presence over progress, at least for tonight.
Much love. Stay safe. Wash your damn hands.
I’ll see you next time.
