Remember that evening? After a day of meetings and caring for the kids, we sat together on the couch with what little energy remained. You held your phone, fingers moving slowly across the screen—searching for something that might make tomorrow just a bit easier. ‘An app that makes math fun,’ you whispered with that tired […]
You know those moments when your child runs home, backpack bouncing, eyes sparkling with a new idea they just have to share? That burst of pure, unstoppable curiosity—it’s everything. Lately, though, I’ve been thinking a lot about what happens when that spark meets the world they’ll grow into. A world where, believe it or not,
I read something today that made me pause. They’re saying the companies racing to build AI need nearly a trillion dollars more than they have. A trillion. I was just sitting at the kitchen table, the house finally quiet… and all I could think about was you helping our little one build a spaceship out
The steam from our evening tea swirled between us like question marks as my bright-eyed adventurer – at that magical age where curiosity outpaces dinner plates – suddenly lowered her juice box. ‘Appa, will my teacher be a robot when I’m big?’ In that moment, as the evening lights cast a warm glow and the
Remember that Saturday? The one where rain canceled the zoo trip, the Wi-Fi crashed during movie time, and yet—there we were, turning soggy disappointment into a living room camping adventure. While I fumbled with sheets for the fort, you already had the kids roasting imaginary marshmallows. It’s in these moments our family realizes: we’re not
I watched her yesterday—standing at the kitchen window, her shoulders tense as our little one stumbled on the grass outside. That urge to rush out, to fix things, to protect them… it’s practically hardwired into us, right? We’ve all felt that pull—the overwhelming need to shield our children from every bump and bruise. But lately,
You know that moment when your child looks at you with those bright, curious eyes and asks something that makes you pause? Just the other day, after we’d been building wild Lego castles together, my daughter turned to me and asked, ‘Appa, can robots learn to play too?’ It was one of those questions that
After bedtime, the house finally goes quiet. It’s just us, the soft glow of the nightlight, and the start of the real conversation. It’s in this stillness that I’ve noticed something remarkable—how technology’s rapid evolution isn’t just changing the world out there, but shaping the small, everyday moments in our home. Like when that learning
I was watching you with the little one yesterday at the park. You didn’t rush to explain why the leaves change colors or why the ant was carrying that crumb. Instead, you sat beside her on the bench, asking questions that sparked more questions in her eyes. It was in that quiet moment, I thought
You know that moment when your child asks a question that stops you in your tracks? The other day, my daughter—at that wonderful stage where her curiosity outpaces her vocabulary—looked up from her drawing and asked, ‘Appa, how does the tablet know what I’m thinking before I type it?’ Honestly, my heart skipped a beat
