Imagine having your four-year-old ask you this question…

“Daddy, why are you always on your phone?”

My oldest daughter asked me this last summer before this journey started.

This wasn’t asked in the middle of the workday.

It was asked during playtime.

On a Saturday.

Getting asked that question by one of your kids cuts to your core. Now, whether I wanted to admit it or not, the message I was sending was simple and scary:

This (whatever I was doing on my phone) is more important than you right now. The fact that I don’t even remember what ‘it’ was says everything.

Over the past year, I’ve lost track of how many people have commented to me about how they wish they had a better relationship with their phones. They recognize it’s a problem. This issue is not confined to a few places; it’s a pervasive phenomenon, from homes to parks to restaurants.

I don’t need to worry about gently bringing this to your attention because your kids have been silently screaming for it.

So, I’ll say what our kids can’t articulate.

Put. Your. Phone. Down.

I acknowledge the challenge of detaching from your phone.

Phone buzzes. Check the notification. Send one text. Reply to one more email.

One moment of distraction becomes two. Two becomes three. Three becomes five. Five becomes later today. Later today becomes tomorrow. Tomorrow becomes next week. Next week becomes next year. And then, in the blink of an eye, you realize they don’t live at home anymore.

Childhood, like these moments, is fleeting.

Imagine bringing your kids into a meeting at work and ignoring your colleagues. It’s unthinkable, right? Yet, we often bring work, mindless scrolling, or social media into our time with our kids, letting it intrude on our personal lives.

And then, we’re surprised when our kids act out in frustration and throw tantrums when all they want is for us to throw our undivided attention at them. It’s not just about their behavior but the emotional toll it takes on them when they feel neglected.

It’s a situation that can lead to regret.

This begs the question, “How important was that one email about that issue you don’t remember for work on that random Tuesday night?”

I’m not naive—I’m not saying disregard work. I understand the feeling of worrying that you might miss out on something from work. You should care about your job, but your kids matter more.

Your kids won’t remember that email, but they will remember the moments you shared—or didn’t share—with them.

Choose wisely. Be present.

The notifications can wait. Sending the text can wait. Replying to that email can wait.

Time with your kids can’t.

Because that time with your kids, those precious moments, are happening right now, and they’re slipping away.