As a parent, our relationship with our children evolves constantly. Recently, I’ve found myself drawn back to blogging, and the reason is deeply connected to this ever-changing dynamic with my kids. Sorry, Dear Reader. It has nothing to do with you. I once heard Tim Ferriss say one should write a book if it can help one person. For me, writing my blog was about helping three people – Avery, Gabe, and Owen.
The Road of Parenthood
Parenthood, to me, has always felt like driving down a road — one that starts narrow and protected but eventually opens wide. In the beginning, when my kids were young, I was firmly in control of the car. I drove, ensuring the path was safe and steady. I kept them on the road, flanked by concrete barriers on either side, like the bumpers they use in bowling. Those barriers were non-negotiable and unmovable. I made sure my kids could not veer off and could not make mistakes that would lead them into dangerous territory. I was there to shield them from every wrong turn and misstep.
As they grew older, though, I loosened my grip on the wheel. They began to take control, but I kept the barriers up — still ensuring that, no matter what, they stayed on the road. Over time, the road widened. The concrete barriers slowly transformed into something softer: a shoulder. They needed a little more room to maneuver, space to make decisions—sometimes even bad ones—but still with a safety net in place. These were not rigid walls anymore but margins where they could explore, learn, and correct course, all while staying safe.
Then, gradually, the barriers weakened further. They became guardrails — strong but flexible. Guardrails are there to keep you safe, but unlike concrete, they are not absolute. They allow for mistakes, impact, and learning while still preventing you from crashing too hard. My kids were now making more decisions, and I was stepping back, letting them feel the consequences of their choices while still being close enough to guide them if they veered too far off course.
Eventually, the guardrails disappeared altogether. Now, the road is open, and my kids are in the driver’s seat, fully responsible for where they go. They are carving their own paths, even if that means going off-road, onto trails I might never have chosen for them. But that is exactly what I have wanted for them all along. To take control of their own journey. To navigate their own roads. I am no longer the one steering; I am just a passenger now, offering advice when they ask but no longer driving the direction of their lives.
In brief, at each stage, we transition from control and protection to hoping we taught them well to make the right decisions for them (not us!):
- Infancy: We are in full control, driving the car with concrete barriers on both sides.
- Early Childhood: The barriers remain as children start to “drive,” but we ensure they stay on course.
- Adolescence: We add a shoulder to the road, allowing for some margin of error in decision-making.
- Young Adulthood: Concrete barriers become guardrails – still protective, but less restrictive.
- Adulthood: The guardrails come down. Our children take full control, free to chart their own course – even if it means going off-road.
This progression is natural and necessary. The ultimate goal is for our children to determine their own path and navigate it independently.
Why Blog Now?
All three of my kids are adults now. They are fully in control of their own destinies, deciding where to drive and what paths to take. And while I am here for them when they ask for advice, I know there will come a time when I might not be around to give it. I worry about the day when they will need my thoughts or perspective, and I will no longer be here to provide it. Almost every blog post I write is for them, a way to leave something behind that they can always come back to. If they ever wonder, “What would Dad think about this?” they will have these writings to turn to.
Blogging has forced me to take fragments of my thoughts and bring them to a more complete version. These entries have gone through drafts, revisions, pauses, and re-starts, but now I see the importance of moving them forward. They are my legacy in words — something concrete I can leave behind for my kids.
But here is the funny thing: I am also on the receiving end of this exchange. My daughter Avery has started writing her own blog at averymadison.com (Read it. She is a better writer than I am!), and through her writing, I have learned so much about her. Her blog is like an open road to her inner world, and every post I read teaches me something new — not just about her but about myself as a parent. Even though I have been the one who has been guiding them all these years, I find myself still learning from them.
That is why I am back to blogging. Mostly not for the general reader but for my kids. I want them to see how I think, understand my perspective, and maybe even get a glimpse of me in ways they have not before. I want them always to have a part of me, even when I am not around to give it. It is a way to leave a legacy, to continue parenting even when I am not physically present, and to keep learning and growing alongside my children. It’s a journey that never really ends, and I’m grateful for every step of the way.
This road we are all on continues forward, and I am grateful to leave behind these milemarkers for my children to revisit whenever they need to. And in the process, maybe we will all keep learning from each other.