The One Problem With Being a Daddy Blogger
I had the foolish notion when I started blogging that it was going to be a place for men to come together and talk fatherhood. What an idiot! It took a couple of months to realise that (a) men don’t generally read blogs (b) men don’t generally talk fatherhood they just do it, and, (c) men tend not to come together, unless there’s a pub or a sports stadium or a pub in a sports stadium.
There are definite perks to being a daddy blogger; there aren’t many of us, our population is on a par with the Javan Rhino and so in that respect we provide some sort of novelty value, like a desk toy that you never asked for. It was also pointed out to me that I have benefitted from being the “token dad”, an argument I can’t dispute too fiercely – I even toyed with changing the name of the blog to Token Dad. I’m often told that it’s nice to have a male perspective on parenting (although I doubt it’s all that different from the next Mum’s).
I sometimes feel a little like the guy that has gatecrashed his fiancé’s Hen Do and insists on hanging about all night. I want to join in, I want to be friends but I need to remember sometimes that I am not one of the girls, I have little expertise in conversations about makeup, menopause, menstrual cycles or macrobiotic diets, none at all, but I still do, sometimes clumsily.
This post isn’t meant to be about conforming to gender stereotypes or somehow promoting a them and us mentality. It’s an observation that I’ve crossed the gender divide, I’ve made progress. When I started blogging a lot of posts were about my own insecurities about being a Stay at Home Dad, feeling a little like the odd one out. These days when I go to a park and see a group of Mums I don’t see a group of Mums I see a group of adults and I want in on whatever they are chatting about.
I found myself commenting on a post last week about makeup (smoky eyes) and it occurred to me “what the bloody hell are you doing, what do you know about smoky eyes?”. So if I do stumble across your post on accessorizing with belts and I try to join just humour me. If I barge in on a Twitter debate about Patrick from Offspring I mean you no harm. And if I tell you that your Instagram picture of your dinner looks “nom nom” don’t worry I do that sometimes, I have made myself comfortable and feel quite at home in our space.