Dear Younger Fred… your family will continue to grow!
And you will have no idea how much that will reshape your meaning of success.
For years you'll follow the default software:
Hit the goals.
Earn the money.
Climb the ladder.
Push harder.
But the truth is… you didn't really know what you were doing and who you were doing it for — you just thought you did.
Then you hold Matthias, and the world goes quiet.
Everything you used to chase doesn't disappear…
it just stops defining you.
Because suddenly, success isn't measured by how high you climb…
but by who reaches for you with their tiny hands at the end of the day.
And almost overnight, the definition of "important" changes forever.
Important becomes:
– being home for dinner, not just in the room
– 6am cuddles and snuggles before leaving for the day
– choosing patience when you're exhausted
– realizing your child doesn't care about your accomplishments…
they care if you sit on the floor and play
You won't realize how powerful these moments are
until you almost rush past them.
You'll still overwork.
Still overcommit.
Still promise yourself, "After this quarter, things will ease up."
You'll check emails during nap time…
take calls in the driveway before walking in…
miss a few firsts you thought you'd never miss.
Then one day, it hits you:
Your kids won't measure your worth by your productivity…
but by your presence.
They won't remember what you provided by working late...
but they'll remember who tucked them in.
And just as you begin finding your balance, life expands again —
as you and Madelaine prepare to welcome your second child in February 2026.
Another reminder that success isn't something you chase…
it's something you notice, embrace, and protect.
This is the shift…
You start guarding time the way you once guarded deadlines.
You choose connection over convenience.
You realize the moments that slow you down
are the moments that grow you.
You learn:
Presence is the real promotion.
Peace is the real wealth.
And the greatest ROI is the childhood your kids get to experience with you.
I used to think legacy was what you leave behind one day.
Now I know it's how your children experience you today.
One bedtime.
One meltdown.
One scraped knee.
One "Dada, come play."
Every one of them counts.
And here's what you need to hear, Fred:
Your children won't remember your achievements —
they'll remember how deeply they felt loved.
And that truth will evolve how you work, how you lead, and how you live.
Baaaam. That's it for today.
See you next Thursday.
Stay curious,
Fred
