Over the last few weeks, Heather and I have made a concerted effort to “divide and conquer” more with our kids. Instead of always treating our girls as a unit, we’ve spent more time with each individually. This has been great. Instead of each competing for our attention, which often leads to acrimony, we’ve had opportunities to have deeper, more meaningful conversations, especially with our eight year-old daughter.

It happened in a blink but she’s starting to ask more questions about the big world outside of our family unit. She wants to know more about what high school will be like, what college is for, and how people make a living. There is nothing she would rather be doing at this point in life than creating art, so she’s particularly interested in how people craft creative careers. We explain to her that every book she reads, every song she hears, every garment she wears, and every picture hanging on the wall was created and sold by someone who had a vision and the gumption to bring something new into the world.

Last weekend, we went on a family vacation. The place we stayed wasn’t five-star. It was a bit crowded, and noisy at times. The bathrooms were gritty. The food was far from perfect, there was no air conditioning, and our room lacked fluffy pillows and high-thread count linens. The five of (plus our dog) were packed into a small room—we were literally stepping on top of one another.

We went camping, and it was one of the best experiences of our summer.

On Sunday morning, Heather and I got up and weighed our options. It had been a long weekend. Sleep was spotty. And it rained overnight, so we were dealing with soggy shoes, towels, and other items that we had forgotten outside while trying to get everyone to bed in our small camper the prior evening.

A young boy came across a butterfly cocoon and brought it into his house. He watched, over the course of hours, as the butterfly struggled to break free from its confinement. It managed to create a small hole in the cocoon, but its body was too large to emerge. It tired and became still.

 Wanting to help the butterfly, the boy snipped a slit in the cocoon with a pair of scissors. But the butterfly was small, weak, and its wings crumpled. The boy expected the insect to take flight, but instead it could only drag its undeveloped body along the ground. It was incapable of flying.

When you live in northern Michigan like we do, there’s a strong sense of urgency when summer arrives. The season is short so we try to pack in as much sun and fun as we can, while we can.

Judging by the throngs of people at the beach, on the trails, out riding bikes, and on boats in the region, we’re not the only ones who have stepped away a bit from our offices and keyboards to soak in what summer has to offer.

One of the most satisfying (and exhausting) aspects of all of this summer fun has been watching our kids frolic in the great outdoors. They’re wearing us out, but we wouldn’t trade these days for anything, because we know that they are forming the most important moments that will matter over the course of our life together.