It’s The Little Things.

I ate at NOMA last week — a restaurant that’s widely considered to be one of the best, if not the best, in the world — and what I can’t stop thinking about is the napkins.

Yes, everything we ate was extraordinary, and the service was exceptional. But what sets NOMA apart are the little things. It’s the way you arrive at the table and the food you’re about to eat — the crab and fish and veggies — is sitting there on the table for you to observe before it goes into the kitchen to be prepared. It’s the details about the dish that the staff relay to you before you eat.

It’s the napkins.

A meal at NOMA is a multi-hour affair — our meal was more than a dozen courses and four hours long. I stood up at one point to use the bathroom, and when I came back, my napkin was no longer where I’d left it. I couldn’t figure out where I’d placed it.

I sat down, and that’s when I noticed it. The napkin had a small piece of string on the back, and the staff — in the 90 seconds while I was gone — walked over, and hung the napkin on the side of my chair.

It was such a tiny detail. Who spends time thinking about where your napkin should go when you stand up? But the fact that they did think about it, and then figured out such an elegant solution? That they took the time to made sure to put care and attention into the absolute smallest elements? To me, that was almost as impressive as the Norwegian king crab.

(Though, don’t get me wrong: the Norwegian king crab was darn good, too.)

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That’s the little hook on the back of the napkin. It was clearly something they’d made themselves — they took a linen napkin, sewed on a small piece of fabric to attach the hook to, and then inserted the string around it.

Be Grateful For the Opportunity.

Back in 2021, I got the chance to speak at Email Summit DK, Denmark’s largest email conference. (It’s also one of the biggest email conferences in all of Europe.) I loved the event — the warmth of the attendees, the incredible venue, the little touches.

And this week, I got to go back and stand on that stage again — this time in front of 600 people.

And as I closed my talk, I told the attendees this: It’s not lost on me what a gift it is for all of us to get together, for a day like this. We have so many things competing for our time; it’s so easy to stay glued to our desks. So to see everyone, in one place, sharing and learning and eager to grow — that is an incredible thing, and I’m grateful to be a small part of it.

I’m lucky to get the chance to give talks like this. Each and every one still feels special. I’m grateful, as ever, for the opportunity.

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That’s a photo of me on stage in Odense, Denmark, at Email Summit 2025.

No Skips. No Fast-Forwarding. Be Here Now.

I had this moment yesterday where I wanted to skip ahead.

I sometimes get jealous of the parents who have a few kids who are already in elementary school. They’ve gotten through the toddler years where kids get sick every 20 minutes. (My son has RSV right now; so does everyone in his class.) They’ve gotten through sleepless nights and potty training. They can take their kids on big vacations and really do fun stuff with them.

Plus, they don’t need as much attention every day — so I could reclaim a bit of that time to get stuff done at work.

And then I thought about it some more and remembered: I don’t want to skip ahead. I don’t want to miss these moments. I hate that Ben is sick, but there are also wonderful moments these days, too. Yesterday, he climbed into my lap and gave me a huge hug — in a few years, he’ll be too big for that! (At this pace, he might be too big for that by July.) Those moments won’t last forever.

So I’m writing this to remind myself: I don’t want to hit fast-forward. I want to be here, right now, in the moments that will never happen again — big smiles and new foods and new experiences and colds and restless nights and all of that. This is part of the journey; I want to make the space to really be here for it.

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That’s a photo of Ben wearing my sunglasses around the supermarket. When I talk about not skipping ahead, I’m talking about moments like that — he’s such a silly little guy!

Take Care of It Now.

A fun thing that’s happened twice in the last week:

I’ve been on a call and suggested a small tweak that a client make to their website — and right there, on the call, they go into their site and make the tweak.

No adding stuff to the roadmap, no meetings to discuss the changes. They heard the idea, liked it, implemented it, and then asked, “What’s next?”

When you’ve got the right idea, and you’ve got the time to make it work, you don’t need to wait. Just take care of it now.

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That image of a black mouse on a black mat next to a black keyboard comes via Marko Hankkila and Unsplash.

A Goal for 2025.

I set a big goal for 2025 — something I’ve never set in the six years I’ve run my business.

My big goal isn’t around revenue.

It isn’t about growth.

It isn’t about launching new products.

My goal? I want to be able to ski or play golf 50 times in 2025.

To me, success isn’t about building the biggest, most profitable business. It’s about making something that brings in the revenue I need, has the impact I want, and gives me the time to do the things I love.

If I can run a business that does all three, then I must be doing something right.

Here’s to a lot more days on the mountain in 2025 — and on the links this summer.

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That’s me on the mountain at Deer Valley a few weeks ago. If you see a tall guy in a loud jacket skiing around Park City, it might be me!

A Mantra for the Year Ahead.

Fireworks and smoke, as seen from ground level looking up at the Space Needle in Seattle on New Year's Eve.

As I look forward to 2025, I’m thinking about this mantra: I want to offer uncommon and unexpected value with everything I do.

Uncommon value, as in: Doing things that no one else is doing.

Unexpected value, as in: Going above and beyond with my work.

Let’s do uncommon and unexpected things in the year ahead.

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That photo of fireworks exploding near the Space Needle in Seattle comes via Nitish Meena and Unsplash.

Habits, Not Routines.

A black typewriter sits on a wooden desk, with a lamp shining a light over it.

I’ve found that it’s easier to do just about anything if you’ve got a little momentum behind you. It’s easier to get yourself to work out if you’ve done it the day before. It’s easier to make time to write if you’ve written the day before. I could go on, but you get the idea.

But it’s hard to build that repetition when you’ve got a child to take care of. I’m fascinated by the stories from people who say, for instance, that they wake up super early to squeeze in a workout before their kids get up. I love that idea, and I’m inspired by their work ethic — but I’ve found that my son has a funny habit:

If I try to get up early, he’ll somehow get up earlier.

I know that if I try to create new routines in the new year, they’ll get easily interrupted. So as I think about the year ahead, one thing I’m interested in is the idea of building good habits without building a corresponding routine. For instance: I want to do more writing, and I think I can make a few hours every week to write. But instead of trying to build a routine around it — i.e. every morning, after breakfast, I promise to spend an hour writing before checking my email and getting to other work tasks — my goal is to make space for the habit when I can. Maybe that means I have 15 minutes to write one day, and an hour the next, and no time the day after. That’s OK! The bigger thing is the intention — that I want to make writing a priority.

I don’t believe, at least at this moment in my life, that I can build a consistent routine around these habits the way that I could five or ten years ago. The question is: Can I still build the habit without the routine?

We’ll see how things go in the new year.

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That’s a lovely image, taken by Yusuf Evli for Unsplash, of a black Mercedes typewriter set against a brown desk, with a black lamp shining a light over it. It seems like a lovely place to write. (Mine is a windowless room in our basemen. Not quite as picturesque, but it gets the job done!)

Not All At Once.

We’ve been rewatching “Friday Night Lights,” and I’ve been thinking about this line from Jason Street:

“Yeah, you can have it all, but you can’t have it all at once.”

He’s right, of course. There is so much I want to do, and so much I believe I can can do.

But I can’t do it all today, or tomorrow, or next month. There are plenty of things I won’t even be able to do in the next year.

I’ll have to choose what I focus on. I’ll have to say “no” to things I might be excited to do.

I can do a lot — just not all right now.

Declaring Parenting Bankruptcy.

I declared Parenting Bankruptcy last week.

What is Parenting Bankruptcy, you might ask?

Well, last week was one of those weeks where everything seemed to go wrong. My wife got strep. My son got hand, foot, and mouth disease and had to be held out of daycare. The heat broke in our house.

And the day we were set to send our son back to daycare, there was a pinkeye outbreak at his school.

It was just one of those weeks.

Sometime around Wednesday, I decided that I wasn’t going to get anything big done. I had some sizable projects that I was hoping to tackle — and it was very clear those weren’t going to happen. My only goal was to make it to the end of the week.

So I declared Parenting Bankruptcy. I cleared everything off my to-do list, and made it my only goal to get to Friday.

The hard part about parenting — at least for me, a dad with a toddler — is time management. (I’m betting that I will have a very different take on this in a decade!) When things are good, there’s a good balance between parenting and work. But when a few things go wrong, the balance gets entirely out of whack.

I’ve had tough weeks before, though I can’t recall one where I kicked all of my to-dos to the next week. This was my first time declaring Parenting Bankruptcy.

I’m sure I’ll do it again one day. This whole “being a dad” thing isn’t always easy; there will be more days and weeks like this.

But I also have to remind myself: There will be even days and weeks where things are great, where my son is an absolute joy, and where I’m so grateful that I’m a dad.

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That’s a photo of my son reading at this little table in our living room, in a far quieter and less hectic moment than the one we went through last week.

Get a Head Start.

One little thing that’s worked for me when it comes to New Year’s Resolutions: Starting just a little bit early.

I used to do the thing that everyone does: I picked a resolution or two at the end of the year, started in January, and completely quit on it by the end of the month.

But what I discovered works a little better for me is if I start now — not in January.

Let’s say the resolution is to work out more in the new year. (In this case, this is something I genuinely want to do next year!) I know that if I try to go from 0 to 60 in January, it probably won’t stick. I need a little time to warm up to the new habit.

So instead, I’ll start now — in December. I’ll put a few workout classes on my calendar. I’ll make sure to make time during the month to use that stationary bike. And by January, I’ll already have started to slowly build that habit.

Once you’ve gotten the ball rolling, it’s so much easier to keep it moving when January comes around.

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That is 100% not me on an exercise bike, but it is a lovely black-and-white photo of someone biking from Josh Nuttall for Unsplash.