With parenting, and with overtly limited time resources these days, I think a lot about the concept of choosing my battles. Apart from basic functions like a consistent bedtime and good nutrition, and more to the point: when should I be pushing my kids towards their “potential,” and when should I recognize that they are who they are — innately, and already — and to materially push against that is to squander my time with them? All of this in the context of wanting to give my children the strongest springboard from which they can launch their life’s trajectory and find fulfillment and happiness relative to their individual goals… suffice it to say, the stakes feel high.

There is a Freakonomics episode called “The Economist’s Guide to Parenting: 10 Years Later.” It’s a follow up to an interview of — you guessed it — economists who weighed in with their approaches to parenting 10 years prior. The podcast culminates in a nature and nurture discussion:

“How powerful are the hereditary forces of nature vs the many factors that constitute nurture? And how do nature & nurture blend in a given person? It’s plainly not a simple thing to sort out. Just think about schooling: the older a kid gets, the more time they spend outside the home, with their peers. There’s some evidence that peer influence can be very powerful. That said, parents are the ones who choose the school they attend and – to a lesser degree – what kind of peers their kids will spend time with.”

I think about my experiences with my own siblings — the people I have the longest-standing observational history with. (NB: another fascinating read about the only people who know you “from cradle to grave”: The Sibling Effect by Jeffrey Kluger.) I look back at childhood memories and consistently think, “isn’t it funny; so-and-so has always been that way,” and “they still are.”

One of my brothers, for instance, has always been curious, even-keeled, and self-assured. He was the kid who taught himself Cat’s Cradle, and complex Origami designs, and Rubik’s Cube algorithms until he qualified to compete at the World Championship (yes, there is such a thing). He had his strong springboard into adulthood as a University of Michigan graduate, but it took him several years to figure out what he actually wanted to pursue after graduation nevertheless. In those years, he was guided by his curiosity, pursued a handful of different passions, and evinced a great deal of patience with himself until he broke into the computer programming world and kicked off his (now successful) career. I have to wonder how my parents – watching their intelligent, talented, college-educated son move home and wait tables at Outback Steakhouse for an extended period – balanced their desire to force him to channel his untapped potential with recognition of his lifelong style of methodical pursuit of his interests that cannot be rushed.

His story is only one of the five of us, but it gives me the sense that the macro view of how each of us turned out was almost a foregone conclusion, albeit perhaps in slightly different settings.

As one of the economists resolves: “the main punchline of this work is, yes, that nurture is greatly overrated.” Then again, another reflects, “who cares? You do the best you got with what you got. So if it’s 80% nature, it still leaves me with 20%. If it’s 20% nature, it leaves me with 80%. Either way, I want to get that part of the puzzle right.”

I suspect that, when the boys are grown, I will look back on these childhood years, see their behavioral and personality trends, and recognize how futile some of the battles I fought were in light of that. For better or worse, however, this suspicion is not markedly useful in the day-to-day moments when I debate digging in or letting go of a contentious topic.

Earlier this week, a colleague of mine shared an observation from his grandmother. She told him: “you will spend more time with your children as your friends than you will raising them.” This time of life with such small children feels high stakes, but it is limited. When I picture my future self sitting around the dinner table with my adult sons and simply enjoying their company, I do admit it takes a little bit of the pressure off of today.