they belong here too.

The airport was energized as we rolled in for our family's first flight together. My kids were bouncing with excitement, their eyes wide, taking in every detail. The escalators fascinated them the most. My youngest and middle child couldn't contain their joy, their cheers echoing through the terminal as they rode up and down, up and down.

A little voice whispered in my head, "Please be quiet, guys." I found myself urging them to keep their voices down, to sit still and wait quietly for boarding. I was more concerned with how other travelers perceived us—worried we might be seen as disruptive. In this adult world of rushed efficiency, I kept trying to wrangle my kids into neat, orderly behavior.

But why? Why was I dimming their shine, their pure, unfiltered excitement?

Then my wife, ever the wise one, said something that stopped me in my tracks: "Honey, they belong here too." Five simple words that struck me like lightning.

My wife has built her career around letting kids be kids—encouraging screen-free living and openness to the world. Her slogan, "Let them read. Let them play. Let them be little," is her way of saying kids should be free to explore and experience the world with all their natural wonder.

Her words made me realize how often we, as parents, unintentionally reduce our children's enthusiasm because we're so worried about others' perceptions. We hand them tablets or phones to keep them quiet, forgetting that their curiosity and wonder are precisely what makes them beautiful.

I've heard friends say they avoid certain places because "parents don't control their children there," as if we all emerged from the womb as fully-formed, well-behaved adults. We forget that we, too, were once loud, messy, and full of questions.

My wife and I have a no-tech rule when with our kids. Instead, we bring busy bags filled with activities to keep them engaged with the world around them. But even with this rule, I still catch myself trying to tone them down in public, more worried about the stares from other adults than about letting my kids be who they are.

But here's the truth: Kids constantly experiment, develop, and learn who they are. They need the space to be themselves, even if that self is sometimes loud or inconvenient.

Dear fellow adults, let's lower our expectations—not of children's behavior but of our need to control it. Kids need to be kids. They need to learn, experiment, and grow. And yes, sometimes that means they'll be messy or loud or ask too many questions.

As parents, our goal should always be maintaining what makes our kids themselves. We should be their biggest cheerleaders, not their biggest obstacles.

So, as we prepare to head home later this week, I'll keep my wife's words front and center: "They belong here too." Because they do—in airports, restaurants, and all the spaces we share, they belong in all their loud, curious, excellent glory.

And we could all stand to be a little more like them. We need to get excited about new experiences, explore the world with open hearts, and let our inner child shine, even if other adults might call us childish. What a bloody good compliment that would be.

Until Tomorrow

John D