DadLife – Dadnauts

⚽ “Blaydon Races and Baby Rattles”

As Newcastle pulses to chants of “Blaydon Races,” my home echoes with the sound of mini maracas and teething-related growls. It’s a different kind of match day—less crowd roar, more cuddles and caffeine.

Still, there’s beauty in the balance: cheering on NUFC with one eye while rocking your future Magpie with the other. It’s a reminder that team spirit isn’t confined to the terraces. It’s in how we show up—game day or sleepy Tuesday—and share our passions with the next generation.

Highlights from the Baby Dugout:

Match stats are swapped for nappy counts
Chants now include “Where’s your sock gone?”
But the love for the badge? That’s hereditary.

🖤 Why Wearing Your Team’s Shirt Means Everything

There’s something magical about slipping on your team’s football top. It’s more than fabric stitched with a crest — it’s a declaration of loyalty, a badge of honour, and a thread that binds you to thousands of others who share your passion.

Whether it’s black and white stripes at St. James’ Park or claret and blue in East London, wearing your club’s colours is a ritual that transcends generations. It’s the feeling of walking into a stadium and instantly belonging. You’re not just a spectator — you’re part of something bigger.

Sir Bobby Robson once said,

“What is a club in any case? Not the buildings or the directors or the people who are paid to represent it… It’s the noise, the passion, the feeling of belonging, the pride in your city.”

That quote isn’t just poetic — it’s gospel. A football shirt is the physical embodiment of that noise and passion. It’s the small boy gripping his father’s hand, climbing the steps for the first time, and falling in love with the game. It’s the teenager chanting in the stands, the parent watching nervously from home, and the lifelong supporter who’s seen it all.

🧣 A Symbol of Unity

When you wear your team’s shirt, you’re instantly connected to a community. Strangers become friends. Conversations spark. High-fives fly. It’s tribal, yes — but in the best way. It’s about shared joy, heartbreak, and hope. It’s about singing in unison, win or lose.

🛍️ Why Buying the Shirt Matters

Some say it’s just merchandise. But for many, it’s a way to support the club financially and emotionally. Buying the shirt is a vote of confidence. It’s saying, “I believe in this team. I’m with them.” And when you wear it, you’re not just showing off — you’re showing up.

🗣️ Legends Know the Power of the Shirt

Alan Shearer, another North East icon, once said,

“For Newcastle United, Sir Bobby was massive. There was just this aura about him… he knew what made you tick.”

That aura lives on in the shirts we wear. It’s stitched into the fabric, passed down like folklore. It’s why fans wear retro kits, why kids beg for the latest release, and why grown adults still feel goosebumps pulling it on.

So next time someone asks why you wear your football top with pride, tell them it’s not just a shirt. It’s your identity. Your history. Your heart on your sleeve — literally.

🧙 “Stranger Things and Stranger Bedtimes”

There’s no sleep schedule in the Upside Down—and bedtime negotiations have started to feel eerily familiar. Armed with bath-time spells and snack bar bribes, we march into nightly conflict like Eleven facing a Demogorgon with half a juice box and a broken nightlight.

This week, bedtime was more Stranger Things than Storytime. My youngest demanded to sleep with a plastic wand, a plush Wookiee, and a sticker chart for unknown infractions. I obliged—because parenting is sometimes about embracing the strange in exchange for peace and five minutes of silence.

In the Dadnauts chronicles, these unpredictable rituals don’t just test your patience… they strengthen your lore.

⚽The Toonverse Chronicles — Week 4⚽

⚽ NUFC Meltdowns vs Toddler Tantrums

Two sides. One storm. You’ve seen it: the chaotic ripple of a missed penalty mirrored in a living room meltdown because the toast was “too triangular.” NUFC and toddlers—iconic tantrum twins.

Let’s break it down:

⚽ NUFC Meltdown	👶 Toddler Tantrum
Missed opportunity	Lost toy
Tactical error	Snack injustice
Ref drama	Nap resistance
Emotional roar	Screaming floor dive

What do we learn? Emotional regulation starts with us. Whether we’re pacing over Bruno’s bookings or pausing for a cuddle during chaos—both require grace under pressure.

Being a fan and a father are parallel paths. You cheer when it’s messy. You believe when it’s hopeless. You show up, game after game. Tantrum after tantrum.

Dadnaut Toolkit — Week 4

🛠 Whiteboards & Wizardry: Tools That Actually Work

Welcome to the Lab. If you’re anything like me, your house has been taken over by scribbles: character arcs, snack schedules, impromptu NUFC lineups, and probably a reminder to buy more blue milk. The chaos needs containment—but not control.

Enter the Magic Whiteboard. Whether it’s a weekly mission planner, an ideas wall for the next Dadnaut installment, or a visual tracker for toddler emotions (it’s a real rollercoaster), this tool is pure wizardry. Here’s what works:

🪄 Dry-Erase Calendars: Perfect for parenting quests and Dadnaut deadlines.
🧩 Magnetic Icons: Assign emotions, chores, and fandom flair with custom pieces (think Slytherin shields for tricky moods).
🗂 Split Zones: Adult agenda on top, kid-friendly chaos below. Silhouettes and stickers = bonus engagement.

Real life isn’t Hogwarts, but we can borrow the best bits—like magical communication surfaces. And when your kid starts adding their own symbols? You’ve just recruited a co-pilot.

⚽ The Toonverse Chronicles — Week 3

Matchday Magic: Rituals I’m Passing Down

Before my kid even said “Dada,” they could recognize the black-and-white stripes. Football isn’t just a game in this house—it’s rhythm, tradition, and home.

This week I’m diving into the matchday rituals that shape our Sundays—and the little ways I’m passing them down.

🎽 The Dress Code:

We both wear our kits. Doesn’t matter if we’re watching on TV or just heading to the park—if it’s a matchday, we’re geared up. (Bonus points for matching socks.)

🎧 The Soundtrack:

We blast “Local hero” before kick-off, always. It sets the tone. Even if naptime means we miss kick-off, the anthem plays.

🍿 The Snacks:

Matchday snacks matter. My little one doesn’t care about kick-off—but they do care that “crispy football day things” are on the menu.

🗣 The Chants (Modified):

I’ve edited some terrace chants into family-friendly versions. Turns out singing “Toon Toon, bottle of milk!” goes down surprisingly well.

⚽ Full-Time Thoughts:

It’s more than goals and scores. It’s the moments—tiny, intentional, repeatable—that build legacy. And if my kid grows up associating NUFC with love, laughter, and shared time? That’s the real win.

🚀 Mission Logs — Week 3

🚀 Mission Logs — Week 3

Log 003: The Day I misplaced My Patience (Then Found It)

They don’t tell you about the quiet little fractures in patience that happen over the course of a long day. One toy tossed. One cup spilled. One shouted “NO!” too many.

This week’s log isn’t shiny. It’s not a win. It’s just true.

📍 The Incident:

The baby wouldn’t nap. The toddler was pushing every button. I snapped. Not dramatically—but enough. I used a sharper tone than I meant. I closed the door harder than necessary. Then came the guilt spiral.

🔧 The Reflection:

I’ve learned that patience isn’t a constant trait. It’s a resource. It drains. It refills. Some days it’s scarce. That doesn’t make me a bad parent—it makes me human.

🧰 What Helped Me Reset:

– A breathing pause in the kitchen, 30 seconds, hands on the counter.

– A voice note to myself, just venting.

– Saying sorry—to the toddler, and to myself.

🪐 Final Transmission:

You’ll lose your cool sometimes. That doesn’t mean the mission’s a failure. It means you’re doing the hard work of showing up—again and again—with love, even when it’s cracked around the edges.

🧙 Wands, Wookie’s & Wipeout’s — Week 3

Why the Pram Is Basically a Star ship

We don’t talk enough about how parenting gear is basically sci-fi kit. That pram you’re pushing? It’s a Starfleet-worthy cruiser. The baby monitor? Interstellar surveillance. Snacks hidden in every pocket? You’re basically smuggling supplies through a galactic outpost.

This week, I’m sharing the cosmic crossover between day-to-day parenting and intergalactic exploration—because honestly, they feel the same sometimes.

🚀 Starship Dad: Field Manual

– Navigation Issues: You will hit every raised paving slab. The Force is not strong in aisle width design.

– Fuel Check: Snacks are energy units. When depleted, tantrums initiate faster than hyperspace jumps.

– Co-Pilot Status: Your kid is not “along for the ride.” They are issuing demands, dropping cargo, and questioning your mission competence. Constantly.

🛰 Why It Matters:

Reframing the everyday into something extraordinary keeps me sane. When I call the changing bag “the tactical rig,” it feels more fun. When I view a walk to the shop as a recon mission, I’m less bored and more…invested.

🧡 Final Log:

Parenting isn’t about escaping into fantasy—it’s about seeing the story in the mess. And sometimes, that story involves a Jedi cape and raisins in your shoe.

🔧 Dadnaut Toolkit — Week 3

Micro-Missions: Getting Stuff Done in the Chaos

If I had a credit for every time I said, “I’ll just do this later,” I could probably fund a toddler-free writing retreat on Endor. But when you’re navigating life with kids, “later” is often a fantasy—unless you break tasks into micro-missions.

This week, I want to share a small shift that’s changed how I approach productivity: doing less, but more often.

👨‍🚀 What Are Micro-Missions?

They’re tiny, focused tasks that take 5–15 minutes max. Enough to feel like progress, but not enough to wake the beast (aka napping child). Instead of thinking “write blog post,” I write one paragraph. Instead of “clean the kitchen,” I do one surface. Momentum over magnitude.

🪐 Tools That Help:

– The “Naptime Sprint” Sticky Notes: I pre-plan 3–4 small missions I can do if naptime happens. If it doesn’t? I still feel mentally ready.

– Audio Notes for Blog Ideas: I’ve started using voice memos while loading laundry or pushing the pram. Goldmine of half-thought genius.

– Time-Coding the Day: I loosely block the day into zones (morning chaos, afternoon slump, post-bedtime potential). It helps me know when to try things—and when to let go.

Harvey – The Best of Boys 2011-2025

Harvey was more than a dog—he was a shadow, and a show-stealer. Loyal to his family every step of the way, Harvey’s life was one filled with love, laughter, and unbreakable companionship. From caravan holidays where he effortlessly became the centre of attention, to the quiet comfort of following me around the house, Harvey was always exactly where he was meant to be: by my side.

His gentle presence and unwavering devotion made the ordinary extraordinary. Whether trotting through caravan sites or curled up at home, Harvey reminded everyone that true greatness lies in love given freely and moments shared deeply.

He leaves behind paw prints not just on the carpet, but on hearts. Sleep well, Harvey—you were truly the very best of boys.