426 | DADAWESOME Book Launch, Building Systems Before the Crisis, and the Confetti Puke Story (Jeff Zaugg)

Episode Description

The Christmas card version of fatherhood isn't real life — and Jeff Zaugg isn't pretending otherwise. In this book launch episode, Jeff reads Chapter 18 of the DADAWESOME book, shares the upstream legacy moves his grandpa made that are still bearing fruit today, and tells the story of what actually happened on launch day (hint: it involved confetti, a four-year-old, and a pair of white shoes that almost didn't survive).

  • Jeff Zaugg is the founder of DadAwesome, host of the DadAwesome Podcast (400+ episodes, 8+ years), and author of the newly released book DADAWESOME. He and his wife have four daughters and are based in Northeast, Florida.

    • Thinking generationally means asking what moves you make today will still be bearing fruit with your grandkids and great-grandkids.

    • Small, preventative systems — like a $2 wall strap — protect your family before the pressure hits, not after the crash.

    • Your inadequacies as a father create space for God's strength to work through you, not around you.

    • Unresolved pain is like hidden glass — sharp, waiting, and causing damage until it's fully addressed.

    • Your family doesn't need a perfect dad. They need a free one.

  • Jeff Zaugg:

    Welcome back to Dad Awesome. Today, Episode 426 — it's book launch week. I'm so thankful you're listening. My name is Jeff Zaugg, and for over eight years I've been having conversations with incredible dads, gathering discoveries, applying them with my own family — my four little girls — and sharing them with you on Dad Awesome. All of these discoveries have been distilled down to the core six findings, and I've been sharing them with our Dad Awesome Accelerator groups. We take about 10 dads at a time through a six-week sprint called the Accelerator. We've graduated 11 groups, and we have our 12th cohort starting next week. There are still a few spots left — if you're interested, jump to dadawesome.org/coaching.

    We've tested the Dad Awesome core discoveries over two and a half years with our coaching cohorts. Now I get to celebrate bringing those distilled discoveries from eight-plus years of Dad Awesome into book form. Story-driven chapters — short, seven-to-eight-minute reads — that anyone, at any level of connection to Dad Awesome, can dive into. Written for the non-reader. Easy to engage with. Every chapter launches you into activation steps. And it's called Dad Awesome.

    Right now, at the time of launching this episode, jump to our website to buy the book: dadawesome.org/book. It's not actually on Amazon yet — the hardcover. That's a whole other story I might share later about delays and resistance when it comes to launch. But you can buy the books today, and many people are buying the five-pack and the ten-pack and sharing, which is so fun.

    Here's where we're going today. I want to share some gratitude and go upstream for a moment. Then we'll jump into a chapter from the book — I'll give you the seven-minute audio version of one of the chapters. And then I want to share what happened yesterday on book launch day. It mirrors dad life. It mirrors my whole process of writing this book over the last four years. It was a wild dad-fail moment, and I'll share the principle that applies to all of us. This is kind of a three-part episode. Shouldn't be super long — but I'm so thankful you're listening. Let's dive in.

    ---

    CONVERSATION

    Jeff Zaugg:

    The book launched on March 17th — my grandpa's birthday. My grandpa passed away six years ago. My mom's dad. My grandpa was Dad Awesome. He was Grandpa Awesome. Was he perfect? No. Neither are you, and neither am I. But my grandpa made strategic moves that impacted his kids, his grandkids, and now his great-grandkids. He made strategic upstream moves, and I want to walk you through a few of them.

    He showed up for one-on-ones. He prioritized them on his calendar. At six, seven, eight years old, once a month my grandpa took me out for a doughnut. He would pick me up — there was always anticipation as his grandson, a little bit of nervousness — and he always had questions he was asking. That graduated around nine or ten to McDonald's. One-on-ones with grandpa, every single month. He had ten grandkids. That's a lot of strategic investment of time — many of those forty-five-minute one-on-ones — but he showed up and he prioritized them.

    The second thing: family moments. Sporting events. Special school moments. My grandpa showed up for those. He drove hours when we moved to Northern Wisconsin — a five-hour drive to come to a basketball game. He showed up for the special moments. He stayed connected through college with monthly phone calls. If I didn't call back within a day or two, he'd call again. When I was in Australia, he was calling internationally. He basically slipped into a coaching role as grandpa because of his intentionality of staying connected.

    Another upstream move: he made strategic financial decisions — downsizing from a house to an apartment — to gift resources that helped pay for the majority of his grandkids' college. Vehicle gifting to each family. A financial gift at the time of young marriages. He helped us remodel our kitchen. This was strategic, and it was at scale across all ten grandkids.

    He was also the glue for our family. He pulled us together around Father's Day, Easter, Christmas, Thanksgiving. It wasn't every year and it wasn't on a perfect rhythm, but he was the glue that pulled the family together. He loved the togetherness and was intentional to make it happen.

    Here's the bigger principle: I am thinking backwards. My grandpa has been in heaven for six years. I look back and I see that those investments — those dials of intentionality — are impacting me today and impacting my little girls, his great-grandkids. We can think upstream: what are we deciding today? What moves are we making today that will bear fruit with our grandkids and great-grandkids?

    I know my grandpa is smiling from heaven. It's such a joy to honor him on his birthday — on book launch day. He was not a perfect grandpa, but he was a strategic, intentional grandpa, and I'll be forever grateful.

    I want to share a few responses from early readers. We had about 300 early copies go out, in the wild for about four or five weeks. Here's what a few guys had to say:

    Early Reader 1:

    Man, I am so thankful for you. I'm just filled with so much joy to see this book come to life. All the things we went through in the cohort — being on paper now for so many more dads to be impacted by. Everything about my life is better because of you. I've got four daughters just like you. Reading through your book, the piece that's so simple but so profound is identity. When you know you're a loved son of God, you parent from abundance rather than emptiness. I sent that page to some dads yesterday and three of them responded right away — "exactly what I needed." The first time I got the book, I opened it to page seven — "to the fathers of my daughter's future husbands" — and I was overwhelmed with emotion. It's my prayer every morning. Thank you. Praying blessings over this book. It impacts thousands and millions.

    Early Reader 2:

    When I got your book, I cracked it open to the page from Chris Bruno — about being the dads who actually face our pain, face our trauma, and don't pass it down to other generations. Man, that impacted me for a whole week. Thank you for writing the book. Thank you for including those elements.

    ---

    Jeff Zaugg (reading Chapter 18 — "The Crashing Cabinet"):

    The entire cabinet was already falling. Four shelves. Eight half-gallon glass mason jars filled with flour, sugar, rice, coffee beans — all of it coming down on my one-and-a-half-year-old daughter. I lunged across the table, my forearm catching the cabinet mid-fall. But I couldn't stop the glass jars.

    The whole thing happened in seconds, but it was months in the making.

    As a young dad, my wife and I had made what seemed like a brilliant decision — storing our kids' utensils in the lower level of a corner kitchen cabinet. We were excited about empowering our little girl to set the table for herself. She would race over, unlatch the cabinet door, and proudly place her silverware and plates on the table. Above her cabinet stood four shelves with large, decorative, half-gallon glass mason jars holding cooking ingredients.

    One evening, my wife's grandmother came over for dinner. We called her Gigi, and we were excited to show off how her great-granddaughter could set the table all by herself.

    You can go ahead and set your spot.

    My daughter — always passionate and determined — enthusiastically pulled on the cabinet door a bit harder than usual. Before I could react, the entire tall corner cabinet came toppling forward. Glass shattered everywhere. The cabinet hit the wall, bounced back, crashed onto the table, and flipped on its side. In trying to save her from one disaster, I almost created another.

    I stood in the center of the devastation, holding my daughter tight, inspecting her for injuries. Gigi sat on the other side of the flipped table — stone-faced, wide-eyed, completely silent. I was worried she might have had a heart attack from the shock.

    The kitchen looked like a crime scene. Glass shards catching the light. My wife was crying — not from fear, but from relief. And I'm standing there holding my daughter, realizing: I did this. Not intentionally. But through my inattention.

    Miraculously, she wasn't hurt. Those mason jars had all missed her despite crashing down right where she was standing. She kept her face buried in my shoulder, her small body trembling. After getting shoes on everyone, I moved Gigi, my daughter, and my wife to the living room and set up a card table for dinner. Nobody ate much.

    It took me over two hours to clean up the broken glass and ingredients scattered throughout the kitchen.

    $2 and two minutes.

    As I surveyed the damage, a sobering realization hit me. This entire catastrophe could have been prevented with a simple wall strap — a $2 solution that would have taken two minutes to install. That truth hit me harder than the falling cabinet.

    In those moments of humiliation and regret, I faced the reality that I had failed as a protector. And yet she was safe in my arms despite my mistake.

    Just as that simple wall strap could have prevented a physical disaster — what small preventative systems could keep me from becoming a father my children would have to recover from?

    That cabinet wasn't just top-heavy with glass. It's a perfect metaphor for our lives as dads. Many of us are walking through fatherhood with weight that feels precariously balanced, ready to come crashing down. Some of us feel crushed under the pressures of work, parenting, marriage, or unresolved pain. Others have already experienced the crash — and now we're standing in the middle of a disaster, unsure where to begin the cleanup.

    The truth is — we were never meant to carry these burdens alone.

    Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 12:9-10: "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me."

    Our inadequacies as fathers actually create space for God's power to work through us. When we acknowledge our weaknesses, we invite his strength.

    Hidden Glass.

    Three months after the cabinet incident, I walked barefoot into the kitchen and felt an unexpected jab of pain in my foot. My reaction wasn't anger. It was gladness. As a loving dad, I was more than willing to take on the pain of a broken piece of glass so my daughter wouldn't find it and cut herself. As I removed it, I was reminded of how our unresolved pain works — hidden, sharp, waiting to cut us when we least expect it. Whether it's unprocessed grief, childhood wounds, or lingering regret, these fragments continue to cause damage until they're fully addressed.

    Here's what Troy Magnum said in Episode 184:

    "When you look at your children walking behind you — what are you going to be in their lives? Are you going to be a wall they have to scale over because you kept lying, kept looking at pornography, kept doing whatever it is you do? Now they've got to scale over that to get to where God's called them to be. Or are you going to be wind in their sails — saying, look how forgiving God is. Look how good God is. Look how much hope there is. God has called all of our children into wonderful, great things. And we can either be barriers to them — or wind. The decisions you make today. You want to be the wind. You don't want to be a wall."

    The difference between being a wall and being wind often comes down to the systems we build before the pressure hits.

    Building Systems Before the Crisis.

    Wall straps are installed before the pressure hits — not after the crash. As fathers, we need systems that prevent disasters rather than manage them. Here's a list of fatherhood wall straps, organized with biblical truths from Proverbs:

    One — Anger and Impatience.

    "Better a patient man than a warrior, a man who controls his temper than one who takes a city." — Proverbs 16:32

    If you're struggling with anger, the answer isn't gritting your teeth harder — it's asking for help before you explode. Schedule regular time with a trusted friend who can help you process what's really driving your frustration. When tensions rise on the drive home, pull over for five minutes to pray, breathe, or sit in silence. Your kids don't need you to arrive perfect. They need you to arrive present. Create a simple pause before responding to spilled juice or forgotten homework. Count to ten, take three deep breaths, walk to another room. That brief moment can be the difference between a father who wounds and a father who leads with patience.

    Two — Marriage Relationship.

    "Better is open rebuke than hidden love." — Proverbs 27:5

    Your marriage doesn't fail in the big moments. It fades in a thousand small silences. If you feel distance growing, stop waiting for the perfect time — schedule that date night this week. Commit to a weekly hour-long walk together with no phones, no kids — just honest conversation. If you tend to withdraw when stressed, practice naming one specific thing that's bothering you each day. Not to dump on your wife — but to invite her into your world. She can't help carry what you won't share.

    Three — Work Stress and Provision Pressure.

    "In their hearts, humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps." — Proverbs 16:9

    The weight of provision can make you feel like your family's entire future rests on your shoulders alone. If work stress is bleeding into home life, put your phone on Do Not Disturb thirty minutes before walking through your front door. When career anxiety steals your peace, pray specifically about work concerns for five minutes each morning — surrendering outcomes you can't control. Write down three work worries before leaving the office, then leave the paper on your desk. Your kids need you present more than they need you to be a perfect provider.

    Four — Sexual Temptation and Lust.

    "May your fountain be blessed. May you rejoice in the wife of your youth. May you ever be intoxicated with her love." — Proverbs 5:18-19

    This isn't about white-knuckling through temptation. It's about building boundaries before desire becomes compromise. If porn or inappropriate content is tempting you, install accountability software today and tell a trusted friend this week. Secrets grow in the darkness. Confession brings them into the light. Move your phone to a charging station outside your bedroom at night. Relocate your laptop to a common area. These aren't perfect solutions — but they're honest ones. Your marriage deserves more than your leftovers after lust has taken its share.

    Five — Isolation and Lack of Brotherhood.

    "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." — Proverbs 27:17

    You weren't meant to father alone, yet many of us are trying to do exactly that. If you've realized you have no close male friends, invite one guy to lunch this month. Start somewhere. If your friendships stay surface level, ask one vulnerable question next time: "How are you really doing?" or "What's the hardest part of fatherhood for you right now?" If you're too busy for friendships, block out two hours monthly for guy time — and make it non-negotiable. Brotherhood isn't a luxury for fathers who have margin. It's oxygen for fathers who are drowning. You can't sharpen yourself.

    These aren't massive overhauls. They're simple $2 solutions that take two minutes to decide on but create lasting stability. Every small wall strap you install today is an investment in your children's future. This isn't about piling more onto your plate. It's about strategic prevention that reduces stress over time.

    I think about that cabinet every time I feel top-heavy. Every time stress makes my jaw tight before I walk through the door. Every time I'm tempted to withdraw from my wife instead of being honest. Every time isolation feels easier than reaching out to another dad.

    The $2 wall strap wasn't really about the cabinet. It was about facing the truth that small choices prevent big disasters. That asking for help before the crash is wisdom, not weakness.

    My girls don't need a dad who never fails. They need a dad who gets back up — who addresses his wounds, who builds systems before the pressure hits.

    Your family doesn't need a perfect dad. They need a free one.

    Free from the weight of unhealed pain. Free from the shame that keeps you isolated. Free to lead with honesty instead of hiding behind good intentions. That's the dad your kids are looking for. That's the dad you're becoming — one honest choice at a time.

    ---

    Jeff Zaugg:

    That was Chapter 18 — "The Crashing Cabinet." There's a Labs section at the end of every chapter — a QR code that springboards you to our website. Every chapter has action steps, a recommended podcast conversation, and six or seven discussion questions to take things deeper with another dad — whether that's a text message exchange, a campfire conversation, whatever works. "Crashing Cabinet" lands about halfway through the book, in the freedom section.

    Let me share a few more snippets from guys who read early:

    Early Reader 3:

    Man, so grateful for you and this book. As soon as I got to Part Two — identity — I read the first chapter and moved it to my morning time with the Father. The line that stopped me: "Heavenly Father doesn't just tolerate our presence — he pursues our heart." I had the book on the kitchen counter and told my thirteen-year-old I was reading it to become a better father. I wanted him to know I'm in process too. I had him read the story about flipping a coin and jumping in the pool — and he loved it. Just being in that adventure. This book is such a blessing.

    Early Reader 4:

    I'm only a hundred pages in and I'm already encouraged and inspired to lean in. It's easy to get lost in the everyday and become reactive. This book has inspired me to lift my eyes — to meet my kids where they are, to see the heart of God in each of them, and to lead in a way that's not perfect, but intentional and transparent. Praying this inspires hundreds and thousands of dads to lean into their kids' lives and be the dads God's called them to be.

    ---

    Jeff Zaugg:

    A few things I want to mention: at dadawesome.org/book there are a bunch of free resources. A new seven-day video series — short emails with a three-minute video each day for seven days, covering each of the core discoveries. You can also grab a free three-day Bible reading plan called "I'm Loved, I'm a Learner, I'm a Leader." And the free introduction — the preface and intro — can be downloaded immediately as a PDF.

    Now, one more story before I let you go — because the real story of Jeff Zaugg and my four girls and my wife is not the Christmas card photo. It's not the clean book cover with the word "Awesome" on it. There are so many portions of dad life and ministry life that are the other side.

    Here's what happened on launch day. We were heading to dinner to celebrate. We decided to take a family photo. The girls shredded up a whole bowl of confetti — we've been doing confetti since Episode 52, seven years ago. I grabbed six copies of the book. We set up the camera on a tripod. Custom cornhole boards for the launch event in the background. The photo we ended up sharing? Glorious. Confetti raining down, all six of us smiling, holding the book.

    What actually happened ten minutes before that? Right as my wife ran over to throw the confetti — my four-year-old puked all over her hand and all over the ground. All over the ground. It just missed my shoes. I was wearing my nice white shoes on launch day. My reaction? Not a loving father. My face scrunched. I leaned away from my little four-year-old. It was shock — but it looked like disgust. I froze and scowled. That's the real dad life.

    Of course I ran and got paper towels, cleaned her up, got her a fizzy water. We reset the scene and took the picture. And this morning I was out with a hose and a broom cleaning the driveway.

    The dad life is full of valley moments — moments where you feel like you failed, where you need to pick yourself back up, clean up a mess, go say I'm sorry. The whole process of writing this book was full of doubt, re-dos, edits, hard feedback. My wife read it three times. I had a team called the Book Bros giving feedback. There were so many moments where my heart said, "I don't think this is going to help anyone."

    We had a major rainstorm that disrupted our launch event — couldn't be on the rooftop where we were supposed to be. Multiple waves of Amazon delays — stuck in complications around ISBN numbers and publisher identity for a self-published book. That frustrates me as someone who worked on this project for four years.

    But that's real life. Real life is obstacles and delays. We stay thankful. We keep a bigger perspective — eyes on heaven. Real life is: this isn't what I was hoping for, but God is in it, and I can keep pressing forward.

    I pray this book encourages you to stay in. Stay in what matters. Stay in this treasured role of fatherhood. Lean into your kids with love. Show them this is a role you delight in. Press into other dads and say, "I want to grow. This is an area I'm going to keep growing in."

    I want to ask you — would you buy the book? And consider buying a handful of copies to give to other dads. Consider sending a few text messages encouraging other dads to pick it up. This is launch week.

    As much as we had a moment of cleaning up confetti filled with throw-up — that's the real dad life. And today I'm choosing to be real rather than performing. I'm choosing to say: what God has done is worth celebrating, and I am still learning forward. And so are you.

    ---

    OUTRO

    Jeff Zaugg (closing prayer):

    God, thank you for these friends who are listening. Thank you for their testimonies, their stories. God, thank you for all these podcast conversations that have led into these discoveries and into this book. We pray that you would be glorified as this book goes out. Thank you for the gift of fatherhood. I want to give my whole heart to it. God, thank you for your love — I receive your love, and I'm going to bring your love to my kids today.

    I pray that you would encourage and refresh every dad listening. Remind them: I am with you. God, you are with us. So we can keep our eyes on you and not on these moments that feel like delays or frustrations. We look to you for hope. We choose to celebrate your goodness in our families. We lean into growing and learning this week. We are dads of action.

    God, thank you that these listeners are going to read, connect with other dads, pursue one-on-ones with their kids. Thank you. Bless them. I'm grateful for every listener. In Jesus' name, amen.

    1. "Your family doesn't need a perfect dad. They need a free one."

    2. "Small choices prevent big disasters. Asking for help before the crash is wisdom, not weakness."

    3. "Unresolved pain is like hidden glass — sharp, waiting, cutting us when we least expect it."

    4. "Our inadequacies as fathers create space for God's power to work through us."

    5. "Brotherhood isn't a luxury for fathers who have margin. It's oxygen for fathers who are drowning."

 

Connect with DadAwesome

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  • Learn about the 6-week ACCELERATOR Coaching Cohorts

 
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425 | Steward Their Speed, The Battle for Your Head, and Fathering from Strength Not Wounds (Tim Timberlake) PART 2