This phone gives me so much. But I’m starting to realize there are things I want more.
It connects me to everyone I love. It gives me endless hours of entertainment. Videos, games, anime, social media—it can fill every empty space in my day. And for a long time, that’s exactly what I wanted.
But now I’m a dad. And I’m starting to realize that the things that used to fill my day aren’t necessarily the things I need anymore. I need something different. I need memories with my boys.
The Dad Battery
I’ve started thinking about it as my dad battery.
My phone has always been an easy way to recharge my brain. A few minutes of a video. A game. Scrolling. Something interesting whenever I felt bored, tired, or overwhelmed.
But I want to learn how to recharge that battery in a different way. I want to get my dopamine from building a blanket fort with my boys, taking them outside when it’s cold just because we can, finding a cool stick on a hike, or throwing a ball around the backyard. From hearing one of my sons yell, “Dad! Come look at this!”
Those moments don’t always feel as immediately rewarding as picking up my phone. But they last longer. And someday, they’re the moments I hope I’ll remember.
The Moment I Looked Up
The moment that really got me wasn’t something my son said. It was something I realized myself.
I put down my phone and looked around. My wife and my boys were together, having fun, laughing and enjoying each other. And I was in another room watching a video on my phone.
A video about something I probably won’t even remember tomorrow.
Something I will forget in less time than it took to write this sentence.
My family was making a memory, and I was watching something that would disappear from my mind almost immediately.
And I thought, what am I doing?
That’s not the dad I want to be.
I’m Not Trying to Become a Phone-Free Dad
The hard part is that this isn’t just an ADHD problem. Phones are designed to keep us coming back. Even adults without ADHD can find themselves automatically reaching for their phones whenever there’s a quiet moment.
So I’m not expecting myself to suddenly become a phone-free dad. I’m not throwing my phone away, and I’m not going to pretend entertainment is bad. I’m trying to change what happens when I have a choice.
When I reach for my phone because I’m bored, can I sometimes reach for my boys instead? When I have ten free minutes, can I spend them playing? When we’re outside, can I leave the phone in my pocket? When my boys ask me to come see something, can I put the phone down and actually look?
I’m going to fail. I’ll catch myself scrolling. I’ll lose an hour. I’ll choose the easy dopamine sometimes. But that’s okay.
I’m Choosing Presence Over Perfection
This isn’t about becoming a perfect dad. It’s about becoming a more present one.
Maybe the goal isn’t to stop using my phone. Maybe it’s to start recognizing when my phone is giving me something temporary while my family is giving me something I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.
I’m trying to recharge my dad battery with something that won’t disappear when I close the app. I’m trying to fill my days with things my boys and I can remember together.
The Dad Takeaway
Your kids don’t need a perfect dad. They need a dad who is actually there.
Because someday, they’re going to grow up. And I don’t want to look back and realize that I spent their childhood watching a screen when I could have been watching them.
So I’m going to put the phone down. I’m going to look up. I’m going to go make some memories.
Dads, let’s go.



