As my oldest rang in her birthday last week, I was reminded of just how far we’ve come in the past 11 years. Two kids, a dog, renovations, new businesses, new sports, new friends, more new businesses, new schools. New, new, new.

With each passing year, I can recall adventures and experiences that have helped shape the family we are today. And as I watched my daughter blow out the candles on her cake, I couldn’t help but think about all those moments of growth that came as a result of having her in my life.

Being a father is undoubtedly what makes me most proud in this life. Do my children frustrate me? Cause me grief, annoyance, and even anger some days? One million percent yes. But there is a love beyond compare for them that makes all of that other stuff rather meaningless, really. For every little meltdown or explosion, there are countless joyful moments and memories that push the other stuff out of mind.

From the moment she was born, 11 years ago, my priorities, mindset, focus, and understanding of love changed forever.

I was sent a video/podcast recently wherein the speaker was explaining the ways in which to succeed in business and, in their words, therefore life. They discussed the importance of being present at work. Showing up as your best self through how you dress, exuding confidence, and taking control of the room.

They went on to explain that, in order to not only be successful but to be taken seriously, you need to understand and recognize your priorities. Most notably, they explained very pointedly that the “kids’ play, soccer game, baseball practice, or recital do not matter in the grand scheme of things.”

It is better, they suggested, to miss those events if it means you can make another meeting in your calendar or demonstrate your willingness to stay late and go the extra mile.

Now, I’m not saying that mindset and approach are wrong. For some, that may align with their core values and help them achieve their goals. I’m not here to judge any of that, but I will certainly state that it’s an approach unequivocally not for me.

There was a separate podcast I tuned into that discussed parenting, our time here on earth, and the surprisingly limited amount of time we realistically get to spend with our children.

It shared two rather startling estimates:

• By age 12: Roughly 75% of the total lifetime time spent with our children has already passed.
• By age 18: That number rises to approximately 90%.

Now, I can’t speak to the scientific accuracy of those numbers, but I can certainly speak to the feeling they left me with.

My daughter being 11, that 75% statistic freaks me out!

What’s more, when I think about my time remaining, something like 50% of it will likely be spent working. And with that in mind, there’s no way I’m willingly going to miss one of those precious moments just to squeeze another meeting into my calendar.

Granted, I understand these numbers don’t represent everyone. I’ve seen firsthand how parent-child relationships can continue to flourish and grow later in life, but there’s nevertheless a shift in how that time is spent.  And not for the wrong reasons, either.

We’re supposed to grow up, become independent, and experience adventures of our own. There are wonderful things ahead, and I wish every one of them for both of my children as they continue to grow. For right now, however, I’m going to take what I can get, when I can get it.

From our Monday evening rock climbing to our weekly movie nights, I’m grateful to have dedicated time with both of my kids in different ways. And it’s been wild to think about how much things have evolved, even in the short time between 10 and 11 years of age.

Our conversations have matured. Her questions are thoughtful, poignant, and deep. We’ve gone from discussions about toys and cartoons to boys and becoming a teenager — topics I’m eternally grateful she’s willing to discuss with me.

We’ve moved from G and PG to PG-13, exploring more mature themes and subject matter. I won’t deny there’s even the odd small cup of coffee in the morning.

Growing older for her is also growing for me.

I don’t know what school is like anymore. I don’t know how to navigate the horrors of social media teasing, bullying, and pressure. She can tell me more about the impacts of AI, environmental concerns, residential schools, and gender equality than I ever would have learned when I was in Grade 6.  In fact, those weren’t even subjects or topics we knew to ask about!  And so, as much as I’m trying to help her understand the world, she’s helping me understand it too.

Eleven years old may not be one of those traditional ‘milestone’ years. In fact, I think it gets rather lost and overlooked between the excitement of hitting double digits and the anticipation of becoming a proper teenager.  But that doesn’t make it any less significant or important in terms of development.

It’s an age, I think anyway, where there’s still fun and innocence, but with a deepening understanding of the world at large. There’s still imagination, play, and discovery. It’s just that those things are slowly moving away from dolls and toys and towards hair dye and ear piercings. And while there’s a part of me that would love to slow it all down, there’s an even bigger part that’s excited to see who she’s becoming.

I’m proud of my daughters.

I’m proud of us as parents.

And if that 75% statistic is even remotely accurate, I’m going to do everything I can to make the remaining 25% count.