The Day I Asked AI How to Be a Better Dad (And Actually Got Surprised)

Last Tuesday, at 11:47 PM, I found myself staring at my laptop screen while my one-year-old son's snores drifted through the baby monitor and my three-year-old daughter finally settled down after her third "I need water" request.

My wife was already asleep. The dishes were still in the sink. And I was spiraling through that familiar late-night dad anxiety: Am I screwing this up?

You know the feeling. That nagging voice that whispers you're not patient enough, not present enough, not... enough.

So I did something I never thought I'd do as a grown man asking for parenting advice.

I opened ChatGPT.

The Question That Started Everything

I didn't ask it to generate a meal plan or come up with craft ideas (though God knows I've done that too).

I typed something more vulnerable:

"How can I be a better dad? Not the generic stuff. The real stuff."

Because here's the thing — I was drowning. Between client deadlines, mortgage payments, and trying to be the dad who builds epic blanket forts with my daughter while also keeping my son from eating everything he finds on the floor.

Some days I nail it. We have dance parties in the kitchen and I actually listen when my daughter explains why her stuffed elephant needs to wear pajamas to the grocery store. Other days, I catch myself scrolling my phone while she's trying to show me her latest drawing and my son is tugging on my leg for attention.

Those are the days that eat at you.

What Happened Next Caught Me Off Guard

I expected the usual corporate-speak about "work-life balance" and "quality time."

Instead, I got something that made me sit up straighter.

The AI started with this line:

"The fact that you're asking this question at all puts you ahead of most dads."

Damn. Right in the feelings.

But then it got specific. Really specific. Like uncomfortably-accurate-to-my-life specific.

The Three Things That Hit Different

1. Stop trying to be the perfect dad your social media feed thinks you should be

Apparently, even AI knows about dad guilt. It pointed out something I'd been doing without realizing: comparing my Tuesday afternoon meltdown moments to other dads' highlight reels.

The truth bomb? Your kids don't need you to be Pinterest-perfect. They need you to be present when you're present, and honest when you're struggling.

2. Your attention is worth more than your anxiety

This one stung because it was so true. How many times had I been "present" but actually thinking about work emails? Or worrying about whether we were saving enough for college while my daughter was asking me to push her on the swing and my son was babbling for my attention from the stroller?

The AI suggested something simple but revolutionary: When you're with your kids, be with your kids. Put the phone in another room. The emails will wait. The anxiety will always be there, but these moments won't.

3. Model the human you want them to become

Here's where it got deep. Instead of focusing on rules and discipline, the AI asked: "What kind of person do you want your child to be at 25? Be that person now."

Want them to handle stress well? Show them how you handle your bad days. Want them to be kind? Let them see you being kind to the grocery store clerk when the line is long.

Want them to know it's okay to not be perfect? Stop pretending you are.

The Real Talk Moment

After reading all this, I closed my laptop and walked upstairs. My daughter was still sleeping, her little hand clutched around her favorite stuffed bunny, while my son was sprawled out like a starfish in his crib.

I realized something: I'd been so focused on being a "good dad" that I'd forgotten to just... be their dad.

The perfectly planned activities, the educational toys, the carefully curated experiences — they matter, but not as much as I thought.

What matters is showing up. Consistently. Imperfectly. Authentically.

Here's What I'm Doing Differently

I'm not overhauling my entire life (because let's be real, that never works with two little ones). But I am making small changes:

• My phone goes in a drawer when we're playing
• I say "yes" to my daughter's weird games and let my son "help" with everything
• I tell them when I'm having a hard day (in kid-appropriate ways)
• I stopped trying to make every moment a teaching moment
• I started asking for help when I need it (especially during those witching hours)

The Plot Twist

The craziest part? My kids haven't noticed most of these changes. My daughter is three and my son is one — they were already getting exactly what they needed from me.

But I notice. I'm less anxious. More present. Actually enjoying the chaos instead of just surviving it.

And maybe that's the real lesson here. Sometimes the best thing we can do for our kids is to stop trying so hard to be perfect parents and start being the humans they need us to be.

Still figuring it out one spilled juice box and diaper blowout at a time. If this resonated with you, I'd love to hear your own "dad revelation" moments in the comments. And if you found this helpful, subscribe for more honest conversations about the beautiful chaos of parenting multiple little ones.