It’s been a month since my Army retirement ceremony, and I’m learning that “time off” doesn’t exist when you’re suddenly the primary caregiver for three kids under four years old.

We’re in Atlanta for the summer. Zaira is back to her office and courtroom routine (side note – we finally got to see the Atlanta office, which has been getting renovated this year, and it is beautiful!).

Our au pair situation is stuck in immigration limbo thanks to the current administration’s policies. So it’s just me and the three minions: ages 1, 2, and 3.

It’s a lot.

The days are relentless. They test my patience multiple times a day, and most of the time it feels like three versus one. My only break comes during gym time when they can play in childcare for 90 minutes while I work out (I’m writing this from the gym).

They enjoy playing with the other kids and staff, and I get to remember what it feels like to focus on just one thing for an hour. But the rest of the day? I’m constantly torn between three little humans who each deserve my full attention, knowing I’m failing to give any of them what they need.

When Zaira walks through the door each evening, the relief is immediate and overwhelming.

This will probably be our rhythm for the rest of the summer. And while I’m grateful for the time with them, I can’t imagine doing this full-time long-term. I don’t show up as the best version of myself—for them or for Zaira.

After they’re in bed, I try to reset with meditation. That helps. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t counting the days until regular childcare or school starts again.

Three kids under four is no joke. I had to clean poop five times yesterday!

To all the stay-at-home parents out there—especially those without support or who are raising kids with special needs—I see you. And let’s be honest, most of the time that labor falls on women. You’re the real MVPs.

This stage is beautiful, and it’s brutal. I love these kids more than life itself, and they bring so much joy. But there are moments when you feel like you’re losing your mind, wondering how you’ll make it to naptime, which is always a fight with my oldest two, and rarely do all three nap at the same time.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to launch a new career. I’ve invested thousands into coaching programs and hired a marketing company, but I’m showing up to Zoom classes with a toddler on my lap.

I had a videographer at the house and ended up filming with my two-year-old in my arms—she needed consoling, so I pivoted on the spot to discuss childhood trauma and generational patterns. That wasn’t the plan, but it worked.

The truth is, my children are forcing me to learn a hard lesson: PATIENCE.

Patience with my family—because they don’t operate on my timeline. Some mornings it takes 45 minutes to eat breakfast when the gym daycare starts in 15.

Patience with myself—because while I have the rest of my life to build a career, I only have a few short years before their core personalities are shaped.

They say patience is a virtue. Right now, it feels more like boot camp. But maybe that’s exactly what I need.

Thanks for letting me share this part of the journey with you. Wherever you are in yours, I hope you’re finding grace and space for yourself too.

With Love and Gratitude,

Robert Solano (aka Daddy Day Care)

P.S.: I’ve been sharing new content on TikTok or Instagram—would love for you to check it out and tell me what you think. My marketing team is helping with ideas, filming, and editing, so it’s been a real team effort. You can find me at @CoachRobSolano. Any feedback is always welcome.