Just over a year and a half ago I decided to give up full time work to help bring up my two young daughters. My wife had started her own PR agency and juggling childcare between the two of us wasn’t really working for her. Also, at the time, my blog was doing pretty well and so I thought what better opportunity will I get for content than being with the girls full time? It could even become a useful revenue stream perhaps? Well, as it turns out, I’ve managed to squeeze out about eight posts since leaving work – that’s the equivalent of about one blog post every four months.

This lack of activity means I’ve slipped down the SERPs and as a consequence, offers from brands for collaborations have all but dried up – it’s even an effort to post on Instagram now. So, here’s a blog post counting the main reasons why it’s almost impossible to blog about being a stay-at-home-dad when you’re a stay-at-home-dad. Oh the irony!

Repressed and overworked – I wouldn’t mind that fridge though
  1. I’m a proper 1950s housewife; I cook, clean and look after the kids all day, everyday. You’re welcome. The girls usually get up around 7am and all things being well, they’re in bed around twelve hours later. Then I have to tidy up their detritus, give the house a quick hoover, wipe the surfaces and then prepare supper for the wife, which is usually served around half past eight. Come 9pm and all I’m good for is a Police Interceptors double bill before sheer exhaustion gets the better of me and I trudge upstairs to bed – if I don’t fall asleep on the sofa first.
  2. It’s IMPOSSIBLE to work with two children in the same room/house as you. I had all these notions of being able to sit there with my laptop and cup of coffee, the occasional loving glance over towards my children as they play happily with their toys on the carpet. Forget it – nothing fascinates a child more than an adult engrossed in something on a laptop, not to mention a cup of frothy coffee. Cue sticky fingers all over the keyboard, Word docs closed without saving, and gobbledygook messages sent via Twitter.
  3. What the hell do I write about? It’s hard when you have another kid quite close to the first one; the novelty has kind of worn off by the time they arrive (sorry Scarlett). I covered Martha’s early years when I first started the blog; surely I can’t just cover the same ground with Scarlett too? Will anybody find it funny that she’s put on her mummy’s sunglasses too?
  4. My sense of style was partly the reason I started this blog in the first place, but I’m beginning to think it’s perhaps not my raison d’être anymore – partly because I have no time to go to London Fashion Week or scour eBay for vintage designer pocket squares or Tricker’s shoes. Also, despite my early protestations to the contrary, it’s getting harder and harder to find the inspiration to dress up for the trips to Tesco or soft play anymore – I just feel like I resemble a children’s entertainer when I wear a bow tie now.
  5. We have limited childcare options. The grandparents live in the country, which is an hour and a half’s drive away on a good day. The wife’s friendship group have so far resisted the urge to pop out any rugrats and mine came out the other side a long time ago, so there’s nobody in a similar position nearby to lean on.
  6. As much as I moaned about the drudgery of an office job, I miss getting paid whilst bidding for clothes on Ebay or looking at houses I’ll never afford on Rightmove. The beauty of being a writer is that you always have a Word doc open anyway and as a result, I used to get away with writing the majority of my blog posts during the slow moments at work – of which there were many, obviously. If I do find the time to spread out on the sofa then my kids see that as an open invitation to use me as a climbing frame/trampoline. I swear Martha fractured my sternum the other day.

I could go on but I’m absolutely f*cking knackered…