We always need to meet other people's expectations. It feels like you're stuck in your own personal 24 Hours of Le Mans - except in this version, every time you’re about to cross the finish line, the clock resets back to 00:00. No celebration. No champagne. Just a pat on the back and a “good lad, let’s go again.” You're constantly running someone else’s race. The list doesn’t end, it just reshuffles. And the worst part? You can’t win. Not really. You either crash out trying, or you keep driving - lap after lap, fueled by coffee, a stubborn sense of responsibility, and maybe a podcast or two. It’s not about winning. It’s about showing up. Engine running. Still in the race.

And just when you thought juggling work, dog, kid, app, and remembering where you left your coffee was enough - bam! Now you’ve got to meet the expectations of your readers too. If you want your Substack to grow, everyone says the same thing: “Be consistent." Post regularly. Show up. Like clockwork. It’s Tuesday, which usually means it’s time for another round of “Longish Reads” - except, well… Today, I’ve got nothing. Normally I’ve got a few topics lined up and ready to go. But this time, the well’s dry. Tumbleweeds.

So I had to get some writing done over the weekend - which, lucky for us here in Amsterdam, wasn’t just a regular weekend. Jesus pulled something off again that gave us an extra day off. So we feasted, lounged, and stretched those days like leftover pizza: still good on Monday. Now I’m back, behind schedule, with a half-full cup of cold tea (trying to cut back on coffee) and some words to chase down - I did nothing on a weekend. Instead we hit two museums - and weirdly enough, Alan got stuck at of Van Gogh’s paintings. I didn’t even prompt him. Just stood there, staring. Maybe there’s something hidden in those brushstrokes in the end. We stumbled on three new playgrounds, including a skate park so cool it made my inner 10-year-old weep. We crushed two hot dogs each (Alan skipped the pickles), shared a ramen, a pizza, and a disappointment when the candy shop was closed. Spent a whole hour in a bookshop. And - drumroll - we officially started the journey to big-kid biking. No training wheels. No looking back. All in all? A full-throttle long weekend. Probably didn’t rest much, but sure lived a little.

Becoming a dad changed something: there's really only one set of expectations I care about now - the little person's.

The rest? Honestly, they can take a hike.

Seems like my little rant about chasing expectations pulled through today and gave me something to post. But hey, it won't always line up that nicely, and that's perfectly okay.

Take it easy on yourself, dads.