My First Week As A Stay-At-Home-Dad

Week one is almost in the books. I’m serving up a steady diet of Moana, Trolls, and Kung fu Panda every morning, and, unfortunately, that’s the only predictable part of my day. No two days are the same. I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around that. I’m trying my hardest to get a routine going, but Kolbe can’t decide if he loves or hates pancakes from one day to the next

JP either has a cold or seasonal allergies. I’m hoping it’s just a cold; he’s already short cause of me, I don’t need another Ortega who’s allergic to grass, trees, or gluten, or dairy, or cats.

Yes I said grass.

I’m still trying to figure out where everyone’s clothes are, and Gianna is not happy that I’m trying to replace her regular food delivery system with a plastic nipple, and I don’t blame her. But, as my first full week winds down I’m grateful we’re all still here. Everyone’s alive and fed, and I have a growing appreciation for all the wine jokes SAHMs make.

Truthfully, G is the hardest out of the three to manage. K drives me crazy, but I’ve had three years to build-up a tolerance. So I’m no longer surprised when he decides to give his brother a bath in the sink. G, on the other hand, needs me on a whole different level. It feels like every couple of minutes she either needs to eat, a new diaper, or change of scenery. I am doing my best to be present for all three of the kids, but at this point G comes first.

Being a father to three is overwhelming. I feel I am running on empty most of the day and that there’s no way I can give each of the kids what they need. K needs me to be patient when he’s hoarding toys and instigating fights with his brother, JP needs me to be understanding when he’s trying to tell me what he wants, but “Eeze” can be like five different words, and G needs me to love her, especially in the moments when I’m annoyed cause she is starving, but refuses to take the bottle.

I know that I can’t give what I don’t have. I can’t pretend to be patient, understanding, and loving.

So I pray.

“Draw near to God and he will draw near to you.” James 4:8

In prayer, Christ meets me. Christ listens and shows me patience, understanding, and love that I do not deserve. He reveals to me my heart, and shows me where I need to allow his grace to work and where I need to grow.

Being a SAHD has been hard so far and it is forcing me to move out of my comfort zone. I need to start and end my days drawing nearer to God. My kids need me to be something that I am not and God’s working on that. I want to be that husband and father that loves without counting the cost, but I’m not there yet. I want to call a timeout during the day just to take a breath, I’m still a little upset I haven’t seen the latest Star Wars, and my Xbox is collecting dust.

If this first week has shown me anything it’s that I can’t do this SAHD thing powered only by coffee, old cereal, and will-power.

I need grace, so I pray.

Then I kiss JP, apologize to K for leaving our game early, and I pick up G.

“Ok, baby girl, let’s try this bottle one more time.”