The Forgotten Laptop — and the Presence I Gained

Friday was supposed to be a productive one — it had to be.

Friday has become my regular work-from-home day — the one where I usually take my boys out somewhere fun to burn energy while I catch up on emails or knock out tasks from my laptop. It’s become a bit of a rhythm: they play, I work, and everyone gets something done.

Heading into the long weekend, I had mentally stacked a full slate of work — emails to return, strategies to finalize, loose ends to tie up before everyone logged off. So I packed my bag, threw on some sunscreen, and took the kids to the pool.

That’s when I realized: I didn’t have my computer.

The anxiety set in almost immediately. My mind raced: “I could be working.” “I should be working.” I felt behind before the day had even started.

And then I looked up.

My kids were already splashing into the first unofficial day of summer, wide-eyed and beaming with joy. I sat poolside — fully dressed (because, of course, my suit was also in my laptop bag), dry, and mentally somewhere else. I hadn’t even planned to get in the water. I brought my bag — not with towels or swimsuits for me, but with my laptop. I was going to sit nearby, crank through emails, and catch glimpses of summer through the corner of my screen.

But life had other plans. And in that moment, I realized the opportunity wasn't to catch up — it was to slow down.

That morning, I was reminded that not all productivity is professional. Sometimes, showing up — fully and without distraction — is the most valuable thing you can do.

The Work That Can’t Wait vs. the Moments That Won’t Return

There’s a difference between urgency and importance.

Work feels urgent. Deadlines, deliverables, expectations — they demand our presence. But our families? Our personal lives? They deserve our presence.

I wasn’t just choosing how to spend an afternoon — I was modeling how to be in one. My kids won’t remember what I didn’t finish at work. But they will remember that I was there, watching, smiling, and cheering them on.

Swallowing the Anxiety: A Mini-Playbook

Here’s what helped me move from panic to presence that day:

• Breathe before reacting: One deep breath at the poolside helped me recognize that my stress was just a signal — not a sentence.

• Mentally reschedule, don’t cancel: I told myself, “The work will wait.” I didn’t ignore it, I just deferred it with intention.

• Choose presence on purpose: I committed to watching my kids — really watching them — not through the lens of guilt, but through gratitude.

What I Almost Missed

Without a screen in front of me, I saw things I would’ve otherwise overlooked — my son’s dive attempts turned belly flops. I noticed their togetherness, their laughter, and their trust that Dad was there, cheering them on.

That was the real to-do list for the day.

Final Thought

The things we think can’t wait often can. The moments we think can be postponed often can’t. So here’s to the unplanned disconnections. The tech mishaps that become mindful pauses. The busy Fridays that turn into memories your kids will talk about for years.

Presence isn’t always planned — but it’s always powerful.

What moment have you almost missed… and were grateful you didn’t?

Rating each other's last jumps