Yesterday was a typical Sunday morning at our house. I got the kids up and gave them their waters and some cereal while they watched Zootopia 2 (or as Joseph calls it, “Toopia”). Then Jillian got up, made the kids breakfast, and got them ready for the day.

We headed outside so Jillian could do some yard work and I could hang out with the boys. Brooks hit some wiffle balls, and then I pushed both boys on the swings before they had a snack. Later, Brooks and I walked up to the baseball fields for a practice with some friends. After dinner, the whole family went for a walk around the neighborhood. Brooks brought his scooter and Joseph brought his strider bike. We ended up at the local school, where the kids played in the parking lot while Jillian chased them around and I sat on the curb and took it all in.

Right now, the boys are both at the stage where they always want Mom. All we hear throughout the house is, “Mom,” “Mommy,” “Mama,” and “Where’s Mama?” all day long. But they want me sometimes too, like when it’s time to hit the ball, swing, or wrestle. I’m a big target if I ever try to lay down in the living room. Last night, I laid back on the sidewalk at the school and Joseph promptly came over and sat on my head.

It’s easy to forget in the hustle of everyday life that kids don’t know all the stresses we place upon ourselves. They just think it’s always time to play, even when it isn’t convenient.

Brooks is six and Joseph is only two. Right now they want their Mom, and sometimes their Dad. They want us to watch them do every silly stunt they can think of in the living room, carry them through the house, watch movies, color, make things out of slime, build Legos, and the list goes on and on.

But that’s not always going to be the case.

Someday they’ll grow up and go to friends’ houses or run up to the park by themselves. They won’t need help on the swings or with their bikes. And that’s part of growing up and becoming independent.

So right now, I need to remind myself that one day I am going to miss being needed and that I should enjoy those moments while I still can. The chores around the house, the blog posts to write, and the errands to run aren’t going anywhere. But the years of the kids being little will disappear.

The thoughts in this post are reflected in a song I wrote called The Last Time, and I’ve included a link below if you’d like to listen.

Over the last few days, we have spent a lot of time with family without having to venture too far from home. Thursday was Brooks’s first Tae Kwon Do class just down the street at the rec center. Friday was cribbage at my dad’s house, which is only a mile or so away. Saturday brought swim lessons and a family BBQ, both less than ten minutes from home.

It’s easy to take our proximity to extended family for granted.

I never really knew anything different because, growing up, most of my family lived within twenty minutes of us. I never had to think much about it. But so many people live hundreds—or even thousands—of miles away from the people they love, and honestly, I’m not sure how they do it.

My kids are incredibly fortunate. Both sets of grandparents live nearby, as do their aunts, uncles, and cousins. My sister and brother-in-law are even within walking distance.

They show up to school events and sporting events. They come over for dinner during the week. We spend weekends together. This summer, Brooks is spending some of his days at their houses while Jillian and I are at work.

We are incredibly fortunate to have everyone so close by.

It’s the little moments that make me realize just how lucky we are.

Running into the kids’ aunt, uncle, and cousins at swim lessons. Stopping by my parents’ house to pick something up on the way home from work. Staying at my mother-in-law’s house while our water was shut off this week during the plumbing work.

It’s easy to recognize the importance of having family nearby during the big moments—holidays, birthdays, graduations, and celebrations. But it’s those ordinary, everyday moments that often get overlooked.

Who knows what my boys will remember about growing up surrounded by family?

Maybe it will be going to the same school as their cousins. Maybe it will be seeing family members drive by while we’re out on a walk or spotting familiar faces on the sidelines of their games.

For me, some of my favorite memories are riding my bike to my grandparents’ house and sitting at the dining room table having a cup of coffee with them. Or going to a Saturday morning movie with my uncle and cousin.

I don’t know if the next generation of our family will stay here or eventually spread out across the country.

But for now, we’re going to take advantage of everyone being nearby and make as many memories as we can with the time we have.

My mom, sister, and nephews went out of town for the weekend. It’s an annual trip, and when they go, my brother-in-law, his dad, my dad, and I usually get together for an evening. Sometimes it’s just hanging out to watch a game. Other times it’s a poker night.

This time my brother-in-law asked if we wanted to play cribbage.

Normally we only play cribbage once a year when the whole family heads up to the mountains for a weekend away in the fall. It’s a tradition that goes back to when my grandpa was alive. We’d all sit around the table at the cabin playing cribbage. It was incredibly competitive and fiercely fun.

The funny thing is that when you only play once a year, everyone needs a refresher on the rules whenever the cribbage board comes out.

As it turns out, my brother-in-law’s dad hadn’t played since he was in the Navy in the 1970s, so we started with a few practice hands before getting into the real games.

My brother-in-law and I teamed up against the dads, and after winning the first game by eighteen points, I admit I got a little cocky.

That feeling didn’t last long.

The dads proceeded to beat us three games out of the next four and quickly reminded us that experience still counts for something.

I thought the night was winding down at that point, but then Doug taught us a new card game called Golf. Each game consists of nine hands, and we ended up playing two rounds. I managed to win the second one, which is always a nice way to end the evening.

Eventually we called it a night and headed home.

Last night was about playing cards with the guys, but it also wasn’t.

It was about spending time together.

It was about stepping away from work, bathroom remodels, responsibilities, and all the other things competing for our attention. It was about sitting around a table, sharing stories, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company for a few hours.

I ended up staying much later than I intended.

As I drove home just before midnight, I realized that some of the best memories aren’t always the big events.

Sometimes they’re just a card game, a few laughs, and a Friday night spent with people you care about.

Welcome to The Young Napoleon Project

Have you ever felt like you weren’t the person you were supposed to be? Have you ever thought you were destined for more, but never quite been able to achieve it?

I have.

I’ve spent over ten years trying to launch The Young Napoleon Project with little success. While I have a great life, I’m getting older and realizing there are still dreams I want to chase and goals I want to accomplish.

If that resonates with you, then welcome to The Young Napoleon Project. I’m glad you’re joining me on this journey.

Let’s start with who I am.

My name is Brian McClellan. I’m 41 years old, married to my best friend and the love of my life for almost ten years, and together we have two amazing sons. I work a full-time job, but I also have aspirations of becoming a blogger, a self-published author, and, most importantly, the best husband and father I can be.

Through all of my attempts to launch this project, I’ve realized that I’m incapable of treating my life as a collection of separate roles: husband, father, homeowner, employee, coach, volunteer. Those roles—and many others—make up who I am as a whole person.

Because of that, they shouldn’t be treated as separate pursuits.

I’m never going to complete this project if I keep resetting every time I hit a bump in the road or waiting for the perfect moment to start over. I know what I need to do. I just need to start, stay consistent, and keep moving forward.

The idea behind The Young Napoleon Project is simple: to bring every aspect of my life under one umbrella. Health and fitness. Family. Finances. Writing. Organization and productivity. Personal development.

By viewing my life as a single project rather than a collection of unrelated goals, I can work on all of it together and move forward without leaving pieces of myself behind.

This blog is a personal account of that journey.

You can expect honest updates, celebrations of victories, reflections on failures, and lessons learned along the way. You’ll read about my experiences as a father, my attempts to become a writer, and my efforts to become the man I know I can be—one day and one action at a time.

I’m not going to lie to you: I’ve written this post before.

More than once.

I’ve erased it, along with the progress I’d made, whenever life’s inconveniences reared their ugly heads. My goal is not to do that again.

My goal is to be here, present with you, honest about my successes and my failures. I’m not here to preach. I’m here to share what I’m going through while I try to figure it out.

I certainly don’t have all the answers, but I’m going to keep trying, and I’m going to document that journey here.

The Young Napoleon Project isn’t about becoming someone else.

It’s about becoming a better version of who I already am.

And today is Day One.