What If You Only Had One Weekend With Your Kids?
Rethinking everyday presence, screen time, and the moments we can’t get back.
We drove up to Northern California late last week to visit my in-laws. It was nothing big or dramatic—just a regular family visit.
But something about these trips always feels a little different.
The pace slows down.
The schedule softens.
Meals stretch out longer than usual, and conversations come a little easier.
In the mornings, someone’s usually in the kitchen early, working on breakfast or just sitting at the table.
The house is quiet in a way that makes you want to stay quiet, too.
Phones stay put. The TV doesn’t come on. Everyone just seems to show up.
It’s not something we really plan or talk about, it just kind of happens. And I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that we don’t get to see each other all that often. Because we live in different states, we really only get to see each other a few days here and there.
So when we are together, we pay attention, set things down, and make the most of it.
At some point, I started wondering why it felt so easy to be present here when it felt so hard at home.
We see our kids every day and are constantly around each other. But because that time feels unlimited, it’s easy to let it slip by. We pull out our phones, turn on the TV, and let the day pass without really noticing it.
But just because something is daily doesn’t mean it’s endless.
This visit made me realize how quickly these years with our kids go by and how easy it is to treat them like background noise instead of something we only get for a little while.
We already know how to be present when the time feels limited but for some reason it feels harder when our time feels unlimited. And the more I thought about it the more I realized this isn’t about perfection or big changes. It’s just about noticing more often, and making a few small choices that help us show up in the same way on an ordinary Tuesday as we do during a special visit.
The Specialness of Scarcity
Why We’re Present with Extended Family
There’s something about time with extended family that feels a little more intentional. Maybe it’s because we only get a few days together every so often, so we naturally treat those moments like they matter more.
Psychologists call this the “scarcity principle.”
The idea is simple: we place more value on things that are rare or limited. When something feels scarce—like time with grandparents or cousins we don’t see often—we tend to give it our full attention.
We sit down and talk. We make eye contact. We plan meals. We take walks. We play games.
The distractions are still there, but they don’t pull as hard and it’s easier to stay off our phones and show up when we know the visit will be over in a few days.
Contrast With Everyday Life
But it’s different when we’re at home. We’re around each other all the time, so the urgency fades. Familiarity can make us a little less careful with how we spend our time.
Instead of treating the day like something to pay attention to, we go into autopilot. We multitask. We check our phones. We turn on the TV. And even though we’re technically spending time together, we’re not always really together.
When was the last time you measured your screen time on your phone? If you haven’t checked it in a while, I recommend you do so. It is incredibly eye-opening to see how much time you actually spend on screens when you aren’t paying attention.
And what’s more important is understanding those hours of attention we’re giving to something else while our kids are right in front of us. It doesn’t happen all at once. It adds up in small moments—checking a text during breakfast, scrolling while the kids play nearby, zoning out to a show after dinner.
None of it feels like a big deal in the moment. But over time, that kind of passive distraction quietly replaces presence. And the days start slipping by without us really noticing.
The Illusion of Unlimited Time
It’s easy to assume we have plenty of time. We see our kids every day, and there’s always tomorrow, or the weekend, or next summer. That rhythm can feel endless—until we’re reminded it’s not.
I remember one evening in particular. It had been a typical day, the kind that moves quickly without anything especially memorable. After the kids were in bed, I realized I couldn’t recall many details. We’d all been home. We’d eaten together. But I had been distracted—tired, half-focused, probably on my phone more than I meant to be. The day had passed like a blur.
Screens can do that. They fill the gaps, smooth over the noise, and suddenly it’s bedtime and we’re not sure where the time went.
That’s part of why the 936 weekends idea stays with me.
If a child lives at home until they’re 18, that’s 936 Saturdays.
Some of those weekends have been incredible. Others are quiet. A few, probably chaotic. But all of them count, whether or not we notice them in the moment.
For me, it’s not about adding pressure to make each one magical. It’s just a gentle reminder to look up a little more often. To be where I am. To choose the board game, the walk, the silly story—something small and real.
Not because the time is running out, but because it’s still here.
Reframing Our Daily Lives: Treat Every Day Like a Visit
When extended family comes to visit, we naturally shift how we spend our time. We plan meals. We sit a little longer at the table. We pull out games we haven’t played in a while or go on walks we usually put off. It’s not because those activities are hard to access, but because we know the visit is temporary. We want to make it count.
What if we approached our time with our kids the same way?
Imagine you only had three days with them. What would you do? What would you want to remember?
That mindset doesn’t require dramatic changes. It can start with a few small, screen-free traditions that bring everyone into the same space:
Telling family stories at bedtime
Playing a board game or card game after dinner
Taking a walk together in the evening
Baking something simple on the weekend
Listening to music and folding laundry side by side
Sitting down for breakfast together without any screens nearby
These are simple things, but they’re often the first to go when we assume time is abundant.
Treating just one night a week like a “family visit” can shift the rhythm of your home. No devices, no rushing, just being together on purpose.
Prioritize Presence Over Convenience
Screens are easy to reach for when we’re tired. They offer a quick break, a moment of quiet, a distraction that doesn’t ask much from us. And in moderation, that’s fine. The challenge is when convenience turns into habit.
It doesn’t take long for a quick scroll to become a lost evening. Or for screen time to replace those small, quiet windows when connection might have happened.
Even short screen-free moments can make a difference. You don’t have to plan an entire unplugged weekend. Just look for a few pockets in the day and treat them as chances to be together.
Things like:
A short walk around the block after dinner
Drawing or building something together for ten minutes
Reading a chapter from a book instead of turning on the TV
Sitting outside for a snack or some fresh air
And when your kids say they’re bored, that’s not a problem to fix. It’s an invitation. Boredom often opens the door to creativity, conversation, or rest. It’s the space where connection can start, if we’re willing to let it.
The more we choose that space, the more natural it becomes. Not forced, not perfect—just present.
Practical Shifts That Help
Build “Intentional Time” Into Daily Life
It’s one thing to talk about being more present. It’s another to actually build it into the rhythm of a regular week. But when connection becomes part of the routine, it stops feeling like something we have to squeeze in and starts feeling like something we simply do.
That doesn’t mean overhauling your schedule. Most of the time, it just means noticing a few key moments in the day—times when you’re already together—and choosing to make those moments count.
Some simple daily rituals might include:
Eating dinner together without any devices on the table
Sharing one thing you're grateful for each night before bed
Starting the morning with a few minutes of cuddles, stories, or quiet time
Letting your kids help with a chore while you talk together
And for weekly rhythms, you might try:
A screen-free Saturday morning tradition
An afternoon hike or walk in a nearby park
A dedicated hour of device-free playtime
Making a meal together from start to finish
For more inspiration, GlobalDayOfUnplugging.org has a great list of 200+ screen-free activities you can try with your family.
Another helpful tool we use at home is a boredom box. It’s a simple container filled with ready-to-go activity prompts—drawing ideas, mini-challenges, movement games, conversation starters, and more. When the kids say they’re bored or you feel stuck in a scroll-habit moment, you can pull out the box and let it guide you into something more engaging.
It’s not fancy, but it works. It also helps remove the mental load of figuring out what to do next.
Need a little help getting started?
Download the free Boredom Box guide for ready-to-use prompts and instructions for building your own Boredom Box:
When we build these kinds of patterns into our days, they become easier to return to. They don’t have to be big or perfect. They just need to show up often enough that they start to feel like home.
A Love Letter to the Ordinary Days
The Takeaway
The time is already there.
We don’t have to carve out something extra or chase down more hours in the day. We’re already living alongside the people who matter most. We already sit at the same tables, share the same rooms, and pass each other in the hall. What’s missing isn’t time. It’s the way we see it.
We treat time with extended family like it’s sacred because it’s rare. But the time with our kids is just as precious, even if it doesn’t feel that way in the moment. The routine, the everyday, the ordinary is where most of life happens. And that’s where connection can happen, too, if we let it.
An Invitation
So here’s a small question to carry with you into the rest of today:
What would change if you treated tonight’s dinner like it was the only one you’d get this month?
Would the phones stay in a drawer? Would the conversation last a little longer? Would you notice something about your child you hadn’t seen before?
We don’t need to make every meal or moment extraordinary. But we can choose to treat them like they matter—because they do.
Final Reflection
None of us gets this right every time. Screens are part of life. Distractions happen. Some days feel too long, and others seem to have disappeared before we had a chance to enjoy them.
But each time we choose presence—especially the kind that comes when screens are set aside—we make space for something more lasting: a memory, a connection, and a story our kids will carry with them long after these days are over.
We were also out in a different city during the weekend and it is the exact question I asked my wife, 'Do you feel there's a drop in pace when we are here? There seems to be no hurry -- no where to rush to, no task to complete immediately.' Seems like it was the 'Scarcity Principle' at play! Thanks for sharing.