Real Estate Meets Real Life: A Dad in the Middle of It All

They say there’s a window — just a few years — when your kids want you around more than anyone else in the world. When your voice is the one they’re listening for, your presence the one they count on. And then, just like that, they grow up. They pull away. They start to need you less.

The problem is, those years show up at the exact same time life demands the most from you.

Right now, I’m building a real estate business that doesn’t slow down. I’m trying to grow something real — something that can support my family and stand the test of time. And I’m doing it from home, with two little girls underfoot: one six, one not even two.

There are moments when the lines blur completely. I’ll be reviewing an offer or answering a call, and suddenly I’m also trying to figure out why Minecraft isn't working, or why the baby’s upset, or how I’m going to cook dinner and make a meeting in ten minutes.

It’s chaos. Good chaos, but still chaos. And most days, I end up feeling like I’ve given half of myself to everything — my work, my wife, my girls — and none of it feels like enough.

But then last night, just before bed, my oldest daughter handed me a folded piece of paper. No fanfare. Just a shy smile and, “I made this for you.”

Inside, she’d written in big, careful letters:
“You are the dest dad.”

I’ve closed big deals. I’ve hit goals I was proud of. But nothing has come close to what that crooked little card meant to me.

Because I know how much it took to get to that moment. I know how many days I’ve questioned whether I was doing enough, whether I was dividing myself in too many directions, whether they could feel how much I love them even when I’m tired, distracted, pulled a little thin.

I think most dads in this season feel it. That pressure to build and provide while also being present. That tension between ambition and availability. You want to give your kids everything — not just the roof and the food and the clothes, but your actual self. Your time. Your attention. Your steadiness.

But life doesn’t stop just because you want to slow down. The bills come. The business moves. The expectations pile up.

And still — there’s that window. Just a few years. And when it’s gone, it’s gone.

So I’ve been trying to find the quiet in the noise. To look them in the eyes when they talk. To kneel down and see what they’re building. To say yes when they ask for another story. Not every time. Not perfectly. But more often than I used to.

Because one day they won’t ask.

And when that day comes, I don’t want to wonder whether I gave them the best of me — or just what was left over after work and worry had taken their share.

If you're a dad trying to do right by your family while carrying the weight of everything else too, you're not alone. It’s not easy. It’s not neat. But it matters.

So I’m holding onto that card. The one that says I’m the “dest dad.”
I think I’ll keep it on my desk.
To remind me what success really looks like, in this fleeting, impossible, beautiful season of life.