Taste Notes:
Origin: Gymnastics, writing while listening to kids flip around
Flavor Profile: Reflection, realization, balance.
Method: Creating in life's margins, blending personal passions with family life.
Growing up, I often heard my parents say, "Because of you, I can't..." or "I don't have time because of the kids." These comments made me feel like a burden—a footnote in someone else's story, occupying the margins they wished were empty.
I was sure the story would be written differently when I became a parent.
"One, two, three, four, five—flip!" The gym echoes with the energetic countdown, laughter bouncing off the walls. "Dad, excuse me, I need my shoes," my middle child interrupts, eyes wide with excitement.
"Why?" I ask, setting aside my notebook filled with half-brewed ideas and the start of this very piece.
"We're about to climb the rock wall!" he says, brown eyes shining.
"How cool is that?" I think. My kids get to experience gymnastics to see if they like it.
"Alright, have fun, listen to your teacher, and be safe," I say, doubting he even heard me as he runs back down the bleachers.
Sounds of children sprinting, flipping, and jumping surround me as I return to my writing. I look up occasionally to watch my youngest learning the basics of the sport, her face scrunched in determined focus as she works toward her first flip. My middle child is already halfway up the rock wall, each grip bringing him closer to his goal.
These moments inspire me. Growing up, I believed that becoming a parent meant shelving personal dreams—that the main pages of life left no room for anything else. My parents seemed to live between the idea of obligations and their desires, scribbled in tiny print, barely readable, but often complained about.
Watching my children embrace their passions, I realize that life isn't confined to the main narrative. It's enriched by what we jot down in the margins—the spontaneous sketches, the quick notes, the flashes of inspiration that strike between responsibilities.
Just as my kids push their limits in gymnastics, I've been learning to test my own boundaries. I write in the margins of a busy life, scribbling ideas while waiting in the carline for pickup or during gymnastics practice. Surrounded by the sounds of children at play, I find pockets of time to create.
Examples of Poorly Used Margins
At the end of the pandemic lockdown, I started thinking seriously about my mental and physical health. I built a home gym, watched workout videos, and quickly fell into a trap. Aiming to get gains as fast as possible, I spent over an hour on workouts that didn't consider my wife, my children, or my whole home. It was all about me.
Not surprisingly, it caused tension. I was trying to force my main story into the margins, neglecting the people who mattered most.
Reflection and conversation with my partner made me realize that a 40-minute workout fits better into my current margins. Two years later, I've started to see the results of consistently showing up in those small windows of time, laying the groundwork for something more in the future when time is more abundant.
I had lost sight of what truly matters. Caught up in trying to be like the guys in those videos, lost in social media comparisons, I forgot who my story was about. But by embracing the margins, I began to build something meaningful.
My focus shifted back to my family—not a child-centric household, but a whole family narrative where we have space to grow.
How Do You Use the Margins of Your Book?
Do you believe only the main pages are essential? Lately, I've been pondering that some of the best parts of any story are found in the margins—the scribbled notes, the unplanned moments, the last-minute adventures. Life doesn't stop because we have responsibilities; it becomes richer and more complex.
I've realized that creating in the margins isn't about scarcity but abundance. It's about recognizing that these small pockets of time, these seemingly insignificant moments, are where life truly happens. We can show our children we're growing alongside them in these margins.
As I sit here, the cool metal of the bleachers pressing against me, I watch my kids defy gravity and embrace challenges without fear. They remind me that limitations are often self-imposed. Suppose they can find joy and freedom within the structured environment of a gymnastics class. In that case, I can find creativity within the margins of my own life.
When the Story Shifts
If you ask any parent who finds themselves a bit older and in a home a bit quieter, they'll often say, "One day, all you're left with is time and quiet." It's a rather sad thought—that these busy, chaotic moments are fleeting—gone in a flash.
So, my goal is to use my margins—to write in them, create in them, and brew delicious home lattes that will eventually lead to a book store, playspace, or cafe while thoroughly enjoying the main story. Because someday, as with any story, I'll find myself a bit older, sitting in a home that's a bit quieter. Perhaps then I'll have all the time in the world to get super fit, as my kids might say with a laugh.
Thank you for taking a moment of your valuable time. Parental Notion is my creative playground, and while I'm far from feeling like it's directly beneficial to others, a good friend told me that every work deserves at least a cup of coffee. So, if you'd like to support the work, you can do so here: buy me a coffee. Or by checking out my wifes fantastic business here - link
If you’ve enjoyed this, here are some picks I’ve enjoyed this week.
The one I’ve enjoyed, without a single bit of a doubt, the most is the following.
What I've been up to:
- Had by far one of my favorite weekends in a long time, filled with so much family time and quality time with my wife, my heart was filled to damn dear bursting. It's one of those weekends where it’s so bloody obvious what we should be doing with our time here on this planet.
-I still need to wrap up the fall coffee menu; it’s been one of those projects for which I just haven’t been able to fit in the margins.






Thank you, honestly, until next Thursday.
John D.
Really enjoyed reading this :)
Loved this reflection bro!
This line hit too 😮💨
"My parents seemed to live between the idea of obligations and their desires, scribbled in tiny print, barely readable, but often complained about."