Put world on hold, not your kids.
I work long hours, and I justify it by telling myself it is all for my kids and their future. As each day passes, I think today will be a good day, and I will make time for my kids. But when my head hits the pillow around 11 p.m., I realize their days as children are limited, and I just missed another one.
Immigration law takes me all over the world. In the last year alone, I’ve logged hundreds of thousands of miles flying to China (six times), Argentina, Los Angeles, New Orleans, San Francisco, Las Vegas and Ecuador.
As an attorney, I am constantly on the phone with clients all over the world. I carry a MacBook, an iPad and an iPhone, and my vehicle has CarPlay to sync my beloved Apple devices. I have a WeChat account for my Asian clients. I have WhatsApp for my Venezuelan and Ecuadorian clients. I also communicate through Skype, Viber, Facebook Messenger, magicJack, Instagram, Twitter, podcast, blogs and, of course, phone and text. For the life of me, I still do not understand Snapchat or how to use it.
When I am in Orlando, my workday typically begins around 4 a.m., and I usually get home around 9 p.m. I enjoy staying busy, but my three children ages 12, 10 and 8 are growing at light speed. My son is almost at my height, and my daughters are not too far behind.
This summer, I took my family to my place of birth, Nicaragua. The intention was to let them see how people in other parts of the world are not as fortunate.
On day one of the vacation, my family enjoyed the beach house, while I desperately searched for cell coverage or Wi-Fi passwords to stay in touch with the world. I stayed up until 1 a.m. to take a call from China.
On day two, I took my 8-year-old kayaking. We rented a two-person kayak and headed out into the ocean. Since my iPhone is water-resistant, I decided to take it with me so I could take pictures of these precious moments with my daughter. (Let’s be honest: I was expecting a call from South America.)
Upon returning to shore, the kayak started spinning sideways, and just as it happened, a wave hit our vessel, throwing us both overboard. We were safely back on shore, but by instinct, I reached for my daughter. Once I made sure she was all right, I remembered I left my phone in a plastic bag behind me. I scrambled in the water searching for the phone, but the ocean claimed it, and I accepted my loss.
Eight days to go on the vacation — without a phone. The universe was sending me its form of a text message: Get off your !#**!@ phone! Pay attention to your kids.
So I took my kids ziplining in the jungle. We hiked a volcano, and once we reached the top, we rushed down on a sled. We rode horses, went to the beach, toured historical sites and laughed a great deal.
These were the best eight days of my life.