Bad news has a first ten minutes. The court email, the schedule change, the text. Script yours in advance, step by step, so your hands know what to do when your head does not.
The body calms down before the mind does. Breathe, walk, lift, cold water on the face. Pick the one move you will actually do, anywhere, in two minutes.
One man hears it before anyone else gets a response from you. Not to fix it. To stand next to you while you cool.
The rule: no big decisions and no hot replies for 24 hours after bad news. Now write it the way you would say it, because your version is the one you will obey.
Isolated dads lose. Two men, one pact: a real check-in, every week, no performance. Name him, then set the cadence.
The floor is the minimum you hold for the next 30 days, especially mid-wave. Sleep is a custody issue: your patience runs on it. Set numbers you can keep on your worst week.
| Floor | My minimum |
|---|---|
| Sleep (hours a night) | |
| Walk (minutes a day) | |
| Lift (sessions a week) | |
| Water (amount a day) |
Copy your plan onto the card below in small print. Cut along the dashed line and it rides behind your license. Mid-wave, you do not think. You read.
Cut on the dashed line. Fold once if you want it smaller. Replace it when the numbers change.