I started DadForge because I think we've made fatherhood way more complicated than it needs to be.
You don't need t o be a perfect dad.
You need to be present, capable, intentional, and willing to keep getting better.
Here's what DadForge is about 🧵
@jackdcoulson I’ve never been much of a drinker, but lifting has always been one of my best ways to deal with stress.
Especially now with kids. I want to come home better, not just less stressed.
@TheMattViera That’s awesome. Our scale maxes out around $68,000. I Coach 3 sports and am pretty maxed out at $80,000.
We are lucky to get above a 1% raise. I teach in a very rural area though.
@flabbytofit99 This is something I’m realizing more and more.
Taking care of yourself isn’t selfish when you’re a dad.
Sleep. Training. Eating better. Having some margin.
That’s how you make sure your family gets the best version of you instead of whatever is left at the end of the day.
Your kids don't need more toys.
They need a dad who's not exhausted by 6pm.
You're running on fumes trying to show up for them.
Out of shape. Sleep deprived. No energy left after work.
Then you wonder why you snap at small things.
THE SOLUTION ISN'T COFFEE
How to fix your foundation:
SLEEP 7+ HOURS
You can't be patient when you're exhausted.
Every night under 7 hours is borrowing patience from tomorrow.
Your kids deserve the well-rested version of you.
LIFT HEAVY 3-4X PER WEEK
Lifting will actually give you more energy.
When I'm consistent in the gym? More patience with my kids.
When I skip workouts? Everything irritates me.
EAT ACTUAL FOOD
High protein. Real meals. No snacks right before bed.
Your body can't regulate emotions when it's running on garbage.
Low blood sugar = short fuse with your kids.
PROTECT YOUR MARGIN
Stop saying yes to everything.
When you're constantly depleted, you have nothing left for what matters.
Your calendar should have white space.
Your evenings should have buffer time.
Bottom line:
Your kids aren't more difficult than other kids...you are just too tired to handle normal kid behavior.
Fix your body. Fix your schedule. Fix your energy.
Then watch how much easier fatherhood becomes.
Your kids need a dad who isn't running on empty when he's around.
As an empty nester, I’ll tell you this…
Your children eventually build lives that don’t revolve around you.
They grow up.
They build careers.
They fall in love.
They make their own friends, routines, traditions, and families.
And that’s exactly what you raised them to do.
But while you’re helping them build a life of their own, make sure you’ve built one that doesn’t revolve around them.
Keep your friendships.
Take care of your relationship.
Have hobbies that belong to you.
Learn something you’ve always wanted to learn.
Travel when you can.
Set goals that have nothing to do with your children.
Because one day, the house may become quieter.
They may call less often.
They may spend holidays somewhere else.
They may need your advice less than they used to.
That doesn’t mean you’re no longer important.
It means you succeeded in raising someone who can stand on their own.
Parenthood is a chapter of your life—not the entire book.
Love your children deeply.
Be there for them.
But don’t put your entire identity, happiness, and purpose inside their lives.
They need a life of their own.
And so do you.
Share your opinion ..............................
@jackdcoulson This is the goal.
I’m slowly building out a home gym in my garage, and honestly, having my kids see me use it might be more important than anything I put in it.
I want them to see taking care of your body as normal.
Your child getting an A is great. Winning the game is great. Getting the trophy is great.
But eventually the grades disappear. The trophies collect dust.
What lasts is who they became.
If you don’t exercise, your kids likely won’t.
If you don’t eat well, your kids likely won’t.
If you don’t prioritize quality sleep, your kids likely won’t.
List goes on.
Don’t expect your kids to make healthy choices if you aren’t making them yourself.
You're going to mess up with your kids.
But it's not the rare, catastrophic moments that shape them. It's the ordinary, forgettable ones; the ones you don't even register until they come back to you twenty years later.
Because the memories that stick are usually small. A look across the dinner table when they wanted to talk and you weren't there. A question you answered without lifting your head because it was buried in your phone.
So the goal isn't to be flawless. The goal is to be there.
My kids won't remember every game I went to.
But they'll remember if I was watching, or if I was scrolling X in the stands.
They won't remember every meal.
But they'll remember if I was interested in their lives, or if I spent the whole thing lecturing them.
They won't remember every gift.
But they'll remember if they could come to me when everything fell apart and feel safe instead of braced.
I've got it wrong more times than I can count, so now I run one question through my head. Will this build them up, or tear them down?
Making them go to bed on time? Builds. Screaming that they're being ridiculous? Tears down.
Getting them to apologise to their brother? Builds. Telling them they're always the one starting it? Tears down.
I won't get it right every time. Not even close.
But if they grow up knowing they were loved, heard, and safe with me, then I've done better than most.
And so can you.
Watching my kids meet their new baby sister for the first time might be one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.
The smiles. The excitement. The “Can I hold her?”
My heart is pretty full right now.
When my kid messes something up, my first instinct is usually to tell them what they should have done.
I’m getting better at asking, “What do you think you could have done differently?”