Letting Go of Parent Guilt: What Time at Home with My Kids Taught Me

In 2019, I had a motorbike accident that changed my life.

I suffered a brachial plexus injury and broke several bones. It left me with limited use of my right arm. I couldn’t drive for a long time. I had to be careful with what I could physically manage.

I went from full-time Police Officer to full-time stay-at-home dad overnight.

Piper was still small. Phoebe hadn’t arrived yet. After years of IVF and egg donation, just having them in my life felt unbelievable.

But even with all that love, I found myself carrying something I didn’t expect:

Guilt.

I was at home every day. I was there.

But I still felt like I wasn’t doing enough.

There were limits. I couldn’t always lift them both. I couldn’t take them out in the car. Some days I was just too tired or sore.

Even when we played, I’d second guess myself. Was it enough? Were they missing out?

I think a lot of parents feel that way. Whether you're at home full-time or just trying to get through the weekend, it’s easy to feel like you’re not measuring up.

But over time, something shifted.

I realised I didn’t need to do it all. I just needed to be there.

The moments that stuck weren’t the big, planned ones. They were the small, quiet ones:

• Sitting next to Piper as she built towers

• Watching Phoebe chase the dog and laugh

• Drawing pictures on scrap paper and sticking them to the fridge

Kids don’t need perfect days. They need real ones.

They remember who was with them, not how much you did.

When I had the energy, we made things together.

We painted boxes.
We glued tissue paper to cardboard.
We made animals out of felt and googly eyes.

It wasn’t about the finished result. It was about the time we spent.

Those little crafts gave us structure. They filled slow days with something to share.

Later on, that time became the seed of an idea, the one that grew into what is now The Busy Box. But back then, it was just about staying connected.

Looking back, I’m grateful for that strange season of life.

It wasn’t easy. But it gave me something rare.

I got to see my daughters grow day by day.
I was there for the little things, first words, first drawings, first big questions.
I didn’t just hear about them. I lived them.

That time taught me that presence matters more than perfection.

If you’re feeling that parent guilt, about time, energy, distractions, work, try not to let it drown out what you're already doing.

You’re showing up.
You’re trying.
You care.

That counts more than you know.

Some days, just sitting beside your child is enough.
Some days, watching them play while you sip a tea is enough.
Some days, cutting and gluing something silly together is more than enough.

Let the rest go.

They’re not keeping score. They’re just glad you’re there.