The ridicule of stay-at-home men has turned me into an alpha dad

In between the ironing, the school run, the PTA admin and the homework, I managed to catch Jane Garvey, a self-described “strident feminist”, admitting on Woman’s Hour this week that even she makes “inner” judgments about stay-athome fathers.

I have been the primary carer of my two daughters, eight and five, since 2012 – and though you might have expected me to be offended, I found Garvey’s comments to be refreshingly honest.

For decades, feminists have been calling for greater gender equality when it comes to sharing child care duties, and the tables are – very slowly – turning, with the latest statistics showing that 232,000 men in the UK are out of the workplace to look after family and the home.

And while most are loath to admit it, people do think we’re all like the dad in the BBC sitcom Motherland, a house-proud drip whose attempts to get his partner interested in sex are doomed by his need to buff the chrome in the shower room. “Do we want a big, strong capable geezer? Sometimes we do,” said Garvey.

The perception persists that when it comes to parenting, men are either useless, careerdriven nappy-shirkers, or effeminate wusses. But that’s all wrong. Yes we may not be the typical bread-winning male, and yes I can bake an excellent Victoria sponge. But like many stay-at-home fathers, the derision has been formative. It has made me an alpha dad.

When my wife and I decided I would give up my well-paid job to look after our children while she went back to work full time, we knew it would be considered an unconventional choice.

I aspired to be one of the cool, Scandi “latte papas” I’d read about – but it wasn’t easy being the only man in the room as I navigated the cliques of Monkey Music and Wriggle and Rhyme. I found myself the subject of passive aggressive advice from mothers, who referred to me as “brave”; when men discovered what I did all day they were politely amused, then couldn’t get away quickly enough.

But alpha dads must take all this on the chin.

Shunned by the local mum and baby groups, I decided to forge my own path, being more spontaneous with the children and taking them to do science experiments in the garden, on hikes and to football matches. I may be able to recite every word from Frozen, but being a full time father doesn’t make me feel any less of a man.

Men, for example, tend to be more natural risk takers. On bike rides, while my wife tenses up when the kids go above walking pace, I egg them to go faster (it’s easier to balance with a bit of speed). Just recently, I was watching my eldest daughter climb a tree in our local park, and encouraging her to go as high as she could. I could feel the other mothers looking on in silent horror, but one came over and admitted she admired my approach.

Aside from setting a positive example that challenges traditional gender roles, studies have consistently shown that children who have an actively involved father are more likely to enjoy better mental health, self-esteem and educational outcomes. Nothing to sniff at in this anxious, social mediaobsessed age.

My daughters may have arrived at school in pyjama tops more than once, but they are confident, well rounded, resilient children. And I would welcome a manly back slap for it.