Social etiquette quiz: How far into January can you wish others a “Happy New Year”?
Some, like Curb Your Enthusiasm’s Larry David, put the greeting’s statute of limitations at three days. “And by the way,” he adds, “everything doesn’t have to be happy.”
While I often agree with Larry on life’s trivial matters, I fall into the other camp here. I really need all of January to make the full transition. It’s going to take me until June to write the date correctly, so I think I should get some flexibility on the New Year’s cheer. I like the idea of starting fresh—celebrating another year that was and learning from the mistakes I’ve inevitably made over the past 12 months (side hustle of reselling Labubus on eBay included).

What I really struggle with, though, are resolutions. Rigid mandates tied to fundamental behavior changes during high-stress times of the year don’t generally produce the results we’re looking for—but I might be wrong. Listen, I’m all about improving and becoming a better version of myself, working toward healthier routines and lifestyles. I’ve stressed over SMART goals, gotten sick going cold turkey, and opted out of more seven-day free trials than I’d like to admit. Despite the best efforts of my inbox and social media feeds, I’m retiring resolutions for good.
PUT THE PHONE DOWN
No surprise here. These pocket parasites consume us, both for better and worse. Our lives are managed and controlled through a few taps and swipes, and these incredibly powerful tools let us email our boss, order dinner, and find the closest bathroom for my six-year-old who just drank her weight in apple juice. But they’re also addictive—constantly fighting for our attention with pings, notifications, and alerts that actually keep us more disconnected from real life.
I used to live the untethered life, not needing every sports score or news update, and that was cool. And frankly, a little less stressful. My kids understand phones are part of life, but I have to show them there’s more fun stuff to do off the screen.
LET KIDS BE KIDS
My biggest flaw: I forget my kids are kids. Because they can walk, talk, and sort of put on their own clothes, I assume they can also reason, analyze, and make responsible (read: dad-approved) decisions. If anything, I need to be a safety net for them—giving them the ability to mess up and understand it’s all OK.
I’ve realized that making mistakes has taught me far more about life than medals or awards. I don’t have many of either, but I’d imagine that’s the case. I can’t sweat the small stuff, whether or not it takes me 25 minutes and two rolls of paper towels to clean up.
BE PATIENT
The concept of time really changes as a parent. Where I once controlled my daily schedule through time-management skills and realistic expectations, I now must ride the whims of toddlers and soon-to-be tweens who want just one more Bluey episode or one more scooter lap in the driveway before we head off to school.
A simple task becomes five times longer than it should be, and it takes every ounce of me not to take over and move on to the next step. I struggle with this every day, but that feeling when they finally figure something out? Total dad pride.
CELEBRATE EVERYTHING
As time goes on, I realize that the little moments in life—car rides to school, shooting hoops in the driveway, trying to unwind my daughter’s hair from the axle of a Thomas the Train toy—are where the real magic happens. Too often, I focus on the destination, stressing over the details and detours of the journey.
It turns out my favorite memories aren’t the posed photos or scripted Saturdays—they’re the in-between snapshots that make me smile. What it mostly amounts to is taking nothing for granted, eac0h and every day. How do I do that? I have no idea—but wish me luck.