Field Notes From The First Year of Fatherhood

Unsolicited Advice for The Class of 2026

One of the internet’s cutest dad rituals happens on Reddit. The subreddit r/predaddit is a wonderful resource for men working towards becoming dads, and when the big day finally arrives, users share that they’ve “graduated” and will be leaving to join r/daddit.

My graduation day is fading into memory (big up Class of 2011). I know a fair few of you are expecting to graduate in the Class of 2026, so here’s author Simone Stolzoff with your commencement speech. Simone became a dad in 2025, a year in which he also managed to write his second book, How To Not Know. Talk about overachieving.

---

One of the most popular commencement speeches of all time was never actually spoken. In 1997, a Chicago Tribune journalist named Mary Schmich wrote a hypothetical commencement speech titled “Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young.” It’s commonly referred to as the “Wear Sunscreen” speech, thanks, in part, to Baz Luhrmann, who turned it into a hit song.

What makes the speech memorable is the way Schmich combines practical advice—wear sunscreen, floss—with more philosophical advice—don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts; don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

I’m now nearly a year into the parenthood journey, and this is my attempt to write the Schmich-ian advice column that no one asked for. Here are my tips for new dads in the year 2026.

1. Keep mom’s water bottle full

This may seem like a strange note with which to start. Certainly, my role as a new father amounts to more than being a glorified water boy. And yet, keeping mom’s water bottle full has both practical and spiritual value. Practically, mom needs to stay hydrated, and when mom has 5 kilos of milk-guzzling flesh weighing her down, she doesn’t always have the capacity to fill her own proverbial cup.

The spiritual value is that, as a new dad, it’s not always easy to know what to do. As much as we progressive, modern men may aspire to some ideal of splitting the work 50/50, there are biological limitations to what we can contribute–especially in the early days. Looking for purpose, Padre? Keep that water bottle full.

2. Default to the opinion of whoever cares more

One of the tricky parts of becoming a new parent is that there are so many decisions. If you think the circumcision decision will be the last one worthy of a parliamentary-style debate, buckle up, Barrister! Every day and every phase of parenting is littered with dozens of choices to be made—some innocuous, like what your infant should wear, some with the potential for civil war (hellooooo sleep training).

One rule of thumb that was helpful for my wife and me (which I’m sure we plagiarized from an Instagram reel) was to default to the more risk-averse person’s preferences. If dad is worried about the baby being cold, just grab another jumper. If mom is worried about the little man riding on the back of dad’s e-bike before he turns one, give it a few more months. That doesn’t mean that there won’t be exceptions to this rule, but defaulting to the more risk-averse person, who also likely cares more, is a good rule of thumb.

3. Don’t try to make a happy kid happier

I love this rule. It’s the one I pass down most often to new dads. There’s a tendency to take a maximalist approach to parenting—when it comes to stuff, activities, developmental milestones, etc. But the old adage “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” is a cliché for a reason. I can’t tell you the number of times I tried to shove a new toy into the face of my smiley son, who was perfectly content playing with the wooden spatula, only to disrupt the chi of the moment and send him into DEFCON 1.

Parenting is filled with so many shoulds (the irony of writing this in an advice column is not lost on me), but I urge you, Pop, to let good things be good. Sure, there will be times when you’ll need to switch from three naps to two, or remove the dummy from her vice grip, but as a default, recognize when your kid is thriving. There’s no need to rock the boat.

4. Get backup(s)

I forgot which wise elder told me to get two copies of your kid’s favorite stuffy, but they’re a freakin’ genius. The “get a backup” logic extends to so many aspects of parenting. For months, my wife and I bemoaned the Sisyphean task of washing pump parts, but in a stroke of divine inspiration, we decided to order an additional two sets!

Perhaps there is no place where this logic is better served than on the changing table. Sure, there are changing pad covers, but if you put down a disposable mat (affectionally called a puppy pee mat) on top of your sheet, your future self will thank you. There are no trophies for doing parenting on hard mode.

5. If you never get out of shape, you never have to get back into shape

Ah, the dad bod—the stuff of legends and lore. The cold truth is that you’re probably not going to have time for your hour-and-a-half gym sessions, or your luxurious games of golf and padel once the kiddo arrives, but that doesn’t mean you have to resign to the beer-belly lifestyle. James Clear, the godfather of good habits, says when life gets crazy, “reduce the scope but stick to the schedule.”

Exercise is going to be harder to come by, but whether it’s a long walk while your daughter sleeps in the stroller or ten minutes of calisthenics before dinner, maintaining a movement practice will do wonders for your physical and mental health. I think it was Sir Isaac Newton who said, “A dad out of motion, stays out of motion.” Remember: if you never get (too badly) out of shape, you never have to get back into shape.

6. Magnets over buttons

Before you become a dad, there’s no way of knowing how many hours you’ll waste trying to fasten a small metal stud into a .5-centimeter button socket. In your lowest moments, you’ll spend the wee hours of the morning cursing the clothing designer who decided a 3-month-old’s pajamas require 12 buttons between the ankle and the inseam. Then, some all-knowing aunt will gift you a magnetic onesie that seems to magically fasten itself, and your life will never be the same.

The mantra of magnets over buttons extends to any hack, tool, or garment you and your partner discover that makes your life easier. Velcro swaddles? Shoelace-free shoes? Baby wipe warmers? There’s no shame in this game. Find what works for your family, and let the good things be good. No one is judging if your kid rotates between the same three outfits for months on end.

7. Do something each week for you and your relationship

The moment your kid arrives, you and your partner go from being lovers to startup cofounders. It’s very easy to start treating the person you vowed to love as long as you both shall live like classmates on a high school group project. Make sure you carve out some time in your week to relate to your spouse as a partner rather than as a colleague.

Sure, you’ll get the advice to schedule a weekly date night or to hire a sitter so you can go on a Saturday morning walk. Nice work if you can get it. The more important thing is that you have facets of your life where you can relate to the world as more than just a dad. Perhaps it’s taking 15 minutes to play a game of backgammon while your kid is napping or an hour on Sunday when you can go back to your favorite boxing gym. It’s important not to let “dad” subsume your entire identity.

8. Don’t confuse uncertainty with incompetence

There was a moment I’ll never forget from when my son was nearly five and a half months old. I had just convinced my wife to give sleep training a try. It was 9:37 p.m., a mere two hours into our first night, and my son started screaming bloody murder. In that moment, all the logical arguments I had made a few hours earlier about the value of holding a firm boundary and allowing him to self-soothe melted away. My boy was wailing, and I had no idea what the hell to do.

The first year of parenting was filled with many moments like these. You can feel doubt, terror, awe, grief for your old life, and fierce love all in the same hour. Not knowing what to do doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re in a role where the feedback is ambiguous and there is no user manual. Feeling uncertain and persisting nonetheless is perhaps thedefining characteristic of fatherhood. It’s also part of what makes the journey so meaningful, transformative, and fun.

Wander on, Daddio. I’m right there with you.

---

You can pre-order Simone’s new book, How To Not Know and get an invitation to an exclusive Q&A with Michael Lewis(!). And go sign up for his excellent newsletter, The Article Book Club.

---

3 things to read this week

1. “It’s Not Normal to Raise Children Like This” by Louise Perry in The New York Times. We had the in-laws stay with us for 10 days over Christmas, and it was lovely. My father-in-law constantly played football with my son, and my mother-in-law cooked delicious Gujarati food. With so many of us living in different cities, countries, and even continents from our families, we’re parenting without the support networks that have existed for generations. This piece examines the paradox at the heart of modern parenthood: we long for a village-style community, but have no idea how to build it.

2. “Grandparenting on Eggshells” by Rheana Murray in The Atlantic. The other side of the coin: when grandparents are around, navigating the generational divide in parenting approaches can be its own minefield. This article dives into parents who are teaching kids that they “don’t owe anyone physical affection, and that they have the right to say no”, and how this is causing friction with grandparents who grew up with different norms.

3. “Parents Are Going Broke From Their Kids’ Sushi Obsession” by Chavie Lieber in The Wall Street Journal. Hard-hitting journalism as a mother of two goes deep undercover, listening to parents rue the day they introduced their kids to sushi. Parenting pro tip: I blew almost two whole euros on a plastic onigiri maker at the end of last year, and the kids have been going crazy for them. Stuff them full of tinned tuna and Kewpie mayo—simple to make and fun to eat.

---

Good Dadvice

---

How did you like this week’s issue? Your feedback helps me make this great.

Loved | Great | OK | Meh | Bad