My husband, Jake, is currently a stay-at-home dad. This arrangement is new for us and likely temporary, as he recently transitioned from military service and is taking a break before diving into the civilian workforce. While I manage my job and freelance work part-time, he’s become the anchor at home.
Navigating this unique dynamic has its ups and downs. I often reflect on our many blessings as a family, and when I vent about my role as the primary breadwinner, I can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. I recognize how fortunate we are not to face financial strain—many families grapple with how to make ends meet. Yet, I still have my moments of frustration when the alarm rings each weekday morning.
Sometimes, life presents us with small, enlightening moments that shift our perspective. This morning was one of those instances.
I rise early, usually before dawn, to write (though we don’t have chickens, I definitely wake up that early). The peaceful quiet while savoring my first few sips of coffee is my sanctuary. With three kids, my home is often a cacophony of noise, so these solitary moments help ground me and bring me back to myself.
At 6:30 AM, I finished my coffee and closed my laptop with a sigh. I felt a weight settle on my shoulders as it was time to prepare for a job that sustains us but doesn’t always fill my soul the way writing does. As I tiptoed past my still-sleeping husband, I tried to shake off the bitterness of knowing he could lounge in pajamas while I couldn’t.
As I moved through my morning routine, my mood turned a bit sour. I reasoned it was just one of those days. Showering, getting dressed, and using my blow dryer usually bring me joy, but today they only added to my funk. I could feel a full-on bad attitude creeping in, and I knew I had to try to turn it around.
Just then, I switched off the blow dryer and heard the sweet sounds of laughter. My two preschoolers’ giggles are truly infectious; I wish I could bottle that joy and sell it as a cure for any bad mood. Peeking through the crack in the bathroom door, I saw my boys snuggled up to Jake, who was the center of their playful world, laughing as they blew raspberries on his arm. His smile lit up the dim space, and in that moment, my grip on negativity began to loosen.
While I was mired in my own thoughts, my husband and kids were weaving memories together. Someday, my boys might recall these mornings as simple, joyous times spent with their dad. In the blink of an eye, they’ll be too old for such affectionate silliness. When that day comes, Jake will likely cherish these moments just as I do.
Jake is an incredible father. It might sound cliché, but he didn’t step into fatherhood until he was nearly 50. There were times he likely thought “dad” would never be a title he would hold. Witnessing him embrace this role at midlife is nothing short of remarkable—yes, “remarkable” might be another overused word, but it perfectly captures the essence of his transformation.
Through that crack in the bathroom door, I witnessed the beautiful bond between my husband and our children, and it melted away the heaviness I felt about heading to work. This chapter of our lives is about creating lasting memories, filled with love and laughter—like those morning raspberries that will echo in our hearts for years to come.
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Summary:
Being married to a stay-at-home dad can bring both joy and challenges. The author shares her experiences balancing work with family life, highlighting the unexpected moments that shift her perspective. Jake, her husband, embraces his role as a father, creating cherished memories with their children that will last a lifetime.