Next thing you know I'll be sat atop a church hall dressed as Batman

We recently had a PhD student round to ask me questions on Dad-hood. Two minutes before they arrived Bug wanted the TV turned off and asked for her art materials. PhD student turns up to find Bug sat in her high chair happily sticking stars and animals onto paper.

Best. Parents. Ever.

The interview itself raised issues about how isolated I often feel as a father. This blog is going to cover some of what we discussed.

The first time I heard Bug's heartbeat was profound. I was absolutely terrified. What if the midwife couldn't find it?

She attached the monitor to Bear's stomach. Seconds stretched into infinity.

And then a moment that will always be a part of me: a single beat that became rhythm that became life. And the speed! So fast, so full of energy.

I turned to the midwife and, choking back tears, asked when our next appointment would be.

'It doesn't matter,' she replied. 'You don't need to be there.'

It was my first taste of what it was like to be a father in a pregnant world. It wasn't to be my last.

I went with Bear to all her antenatal appointments; throughout the entire process my name was simply Sperm Donor. For all the interaction I had with the medical profession I could have been Bear's father, brother or lover.

Which explains the constant Fritzl comments from the midwife.

Since I started blogging I've spent time looking for parenting resources online. The majority of the sites available seems to be aimed at Mums and Mums alone.

Which is ace for Mums. They're brilliant.

Not so good for Dads.

We're not barred from these sites -- everyone I've met has been lovely. A few have dedicated men zones where we can go and chat about boobs and cars and things that go bang crash and/or wallop. At times though it feels a bit like teacher telling us boys to do some colouring-in while the rest of the class does important things like raising children.

I worry about Bug. I worry all the time. Is she happy? Do we play enough games? Has the TV been on too long? Am I teaching her enough/too much? Why does she point and say 'door door' and then refuse to put her shoes on? Why are some days a success if we're both dressed by 3pm? Will she ever sleep longer than 3 hours straight? Are her teeth sore, or is she still pissed that I took the nail clippers off her?

Do Mums not worry about these things?

I looked for Dad sites. They are out there, but many are agenda led. It's Dads pissed off about perceived slights at Dads.

Am I one of these now?

We take long walks down the canal. Sometimes I have Bug in a sling, sometimes the pushchair, lately holding my hand and toddling. I pass many Mums and Dads during our excursions. I smile at them like a loon. I'm so proud of Bug; so in love with being a Dad.

I want to tell the world.

More often than not, if a Mum's by herself she speeds up to get past me. If Mums are in a clan, they become engrossed in a conversation and allow me no eye contact whatsoever.

It is heartbreaking.

I simply want to say 'this here's Bug, she's amazing. I see your little one's amazing too.'

Instead I feel shunned. As a father it appears I am either unimportant or a threat.

There must be a middle ground in which I can simply be a parent.

Bye for now

Xx

PS

Not every mother, health visitor or general member of society is like this.

PPS

Twitter's been brilliant on the Dad (and Mum) front.

PPPS

There's another way to look at this: I may simply be a twat that both mums and dads should avoid.