Same Kid Energy. Bigger Budget.

Let’s start with a formal apology.

So… apparently my last blog was “an attack with extreme prejudice.” My wife and her friends didn’t love the part where she complained about a woman who acts like her (at times) and I, being the supportive husband I am, turned it into a case study. I’d like to apologize for the misunderstanding, I just thought we were all doing self-reflection together… turns out only I was.

Just kidding, she actually knows about or reads everything I put about beforehand, except last week’s blog lol.

Being a parent is just cool. A different type of cool one that is real and just fun as hell. Like when your kid claps because you fixed their iPad, or when they proudly say, “My dad can do anything.” Okay I don’t know if my kids have actually said this, but I am making a point. 

Parenting’s not perfect, but it’s packed with the kind of energy that is hard to describe at times. We have the chance to retry, rediscover, and rewrite little parts of our own story through theirs.

Childhood with Better Budget

There’s something surreal about walking down a toy aisle as an adult. I used to walk through those aisles as a kid, broke af, debating what to steal. Now, I walk through with my kids and suddenly those toys all have the potential to come home with us. It’s no longer that we can’t afford them. Now it’s about whether my kids have them already or if they have been well behaved enough to deserve them.

Sometimes I catch myself saying, “Damn, I always wanted one of these!” and I see my child’s eyes light up. Not because of the toy, but because I lit up first. They absolutely love hearing about what I used to love when I was a kid.

Of course, I remind myself all the time, we can’t force them to relive our childhood. I can introduce her to Mario Kart, but I can’t make her love it the way I did. She might prefer Minecraft or some Cocoa Bocoa thing I can barely pronounce, and that’s okay. I get to show her what once filled my world and then step back to see what fills hers.

I used to see parenting as a time-machine but now I would compare it more to being a tour guide. You revisit old levels, but this time, you get to point out the secrets and get the bonuses you missed the first time through.

Passing Down the Classics

One of the best parts of being a parent is introducing your kids to the stuff that made us excited as a kid. The day I showed my daughter Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, she was way more interested if there was a pink one than the fight scenes,  but still she sat there while I quoted lines I hadn’t said out loud in 25 years. Or the time I played Sonic the Hedgehog and she asked, “Why is he so angry?” (I never realized how mad he looks.) These are the moments that remind you, you’re not just raising them, you’re also reconnecting with the kid version of yourself who used to think pizza-loving turtles and Sonic was the peak of storytelling.

Then there are the nice little surprises like The Nightmare Before Christmas. I worried she might be too little for it, but she was fascinated. She was half creeped out but still interested. Watching her watch it was like rediscovering the movie for the first time. That’s one of the coolest parts of parenthood; every time you share a piece of your past, it transforms into something new through their eyes.

Hobbies

If you ever want to understand how pure love works, watch a kid copy what you do. It’s both adorable and terrifying. When I’m washing the car, she’s sitting inside it pretending to steer, throwing up her hands like I do during brief fits of road rage. When I’m gaming, she’s right next to me coaching me on what to do but occasionally says “Awww, the game got lucky.” Everyone knows when you win it's due to skill, but when you lose the other player/game just got lucky.

Kids don’t really care what you’re doing. They just want to be with you. That is not even some huge secret, we all know it. I admit it’s hard sometimes slowing things down or explaining your hobby to a child.  It’s not about crafting the perfect “Dad-and-me” activity. It’s about letting them into our world.

Even the small stuff matters. Let them hold the wrench while you change the oil. Let them “help” fold laundry. Let them pick a car wash song. These little things don’t feel like memories in the making, but they are. 

I Do it for the Applause

You haven’t truly lived until a 6-year-old cheers for you because you brought all the groceries in one trip. Or until you beat a video-game boss and hear a full-on round of applause like you just saved humanity.

Their joy is exciting and real. They celebrate everything, even the things we’ve stopped noticing. I walk kind of fast? Dada everyone else is so slow compared to you (My son has said this several times and it's super embarrassing). I hit the gas too hard? Dada you're a race car driver!

They’re cheering for the effort, the presence, and your energy. More importantly, they are cheering because you are acknowledging their presence. 

So if they can give us that kind of grace, we owe it right back. We’ve got to clap for their wins, the small ones especially. When they tie their own shoes or remember to say thank you, that’s when they need to see us cheering. That’s how they learn that effort is beautiful, not just achievement.

The applause isn’t about ego. It’s about encouragement, and it goes both ways.

Nostalgia and Now

Parenting is one long balancing act between yesterday and tomorrow. We want them to experience the freedom we had being outside until dark, hanging out at the creek, basically the kind of boredom that builds imagination. But we also want them safe and supported.

It’s tempting to make them love what we loved: the same cartoons, the same music, the same games. Sometimes it works, sometimes they look so confused and can’t understand why we like this boring game or movie.

Put it simply, my goal isn’t to recreate my childhood, it’s to pass down curiosity. To show them what wonder looks like. If I show her that storytelling in games can move you, maybe she’ll find her own art that moves her. If I let her see how I take care of things like my car, fitness, our home; maybe she’ll learn how to care for her own world one day.

Hard Wired

Obviously we don’t always know which moments stick. It might not be the big family trip or the carefully planned weekend outing. It might be something tiny, the way we say good bye, or how we treat our kids when we get mad at them. Those little moments become part of their wiring.

Our kids are watching the movie of our lives on repeat. Every gesture, every laugh, every eye roll becomes part of the story they’ll tell themselves later about what love looks like, what effort looks like, what parenthood looks like.

The Save Point Moments

Sometimes life slows down just enough to hand you a checkpoint, a moment that you just know will be a SavePoint. It’s that quiet “I love you” at bedtime. The giggle that turns into a belly laugh. The small hand grabbing yours when they get scared. 

Those are the memories you can return to when the levels get tough. They’re proof that you’re doing something right.

Parenting is the longest game you’ll ever play, but it’s also the most rewarding. It’s messy, unpredictable, hard af, and yet somehow, it works. Because every time you think you’ve seen it all, your kid says or does something that completely throws you off guard.

Closing Credits

Every post I write here at SavePointDad.com it is a small checkpoint, a pause in the chaos where we breathe, laugh, and remind ourselves why we play this game at all.

So here’s to the parents replaying childhood with better snacks and higher emotional intelligence. Parenting is hard. Parenting is hilarious. But more than anything,  parenting is just plain cool.

Thanks for reading.

-SavePointDad