The Dad Chronicles

By Chris Livemore I wish I had this information approximately three years ago, before I discovered (the hard way) that the phrase "right, it is bedtime" functions far less as an actual instruction and much more as a starting pistol for the most elaborate series of delaying tactics that the entire history of human civilisation has ever known. A battle of wills. There is only one winner - unless you have more than one child, in which case there are multiple winners, all under 4

By Chris Livemore Essex does not have the greatest reputation for castles in the UK. But I think that is a disservice to the county, it is unfair, historically inaccurate - rather like the movie Braveheart - and having grown up in the seaside resort of Southend-on-Sea is something I feel duty bound to correct. Almost a duty bound to correct the map of Essex that Photoshop has helped me generate - I tried to make it accurate but AI was not having any of it today! The county ha

By Chris Livemore. I am not a good film critic. That really needs to be stated early on here.. I forget essential storylines, plots, characters and this has gotten a lot worse since having three children and I would probably say that I have watched more episodes of Blippi than I have watched films since 2021. So, I am approaching this as a dad who has watched all five of these films multiple times, still quotes at least two of them regularly, and owns one on VHS (Prince of Th

By Chris Livemore I want to talk about some numbers and highlight a worrying trend. Numbers that, when you sit with them for a moment, explain exactly why I wanted to write picture books about a small knight, and why I think bedtime stories matter more right now than they ever have. The picture is not especially encouraging. But the good news is that the solution may already be sitting in your living room, or bookshelf - its all about choices. Children are falling out of love

By Chris Livemore I can't lie. This one was entirely my fault and I’m not even able to partially shift the blame. Nobody asked me to explain what a shield wall was. Nobody knew what a shield wall was. Nobody cared what a shield was. Nobody except me. My two eldest children were perfectly happy hitting each other with sofa cushions — randomly, enthusiastically, and without any tactical structure whatsoever. I introduced the tactical structure. And then they joined forces. It

It was a relatively normal morning, getting the middle child off to nursery after a 5.12am wakeup call to request an episode of Paw Patrol (or maybe Blaze and the Monster Machines) Rushing home to my five-year old daughter who looked at me with a warm, loving smile and then asked... "Daddy, what was it like growing up in the olden days?" That question hurt. I want to be clear that I am not old, well not in the grand scale of things anyway. Admittedly, I do have a mortgage, I

It was a Saturday morning. The coffee hadn’t quite kicked in. There hadn't been much sleep for the last week or two (or come to think of it, since January 2021 - must be a coincidence that my eldest was born then). I was attempting to hand a new picture on the wall by the stairs. It dropped. It partially broke. DIY is not my strong point. Before my brain had time to intervene, a few words came out of my mouth that absolutely should not have done, lucily all of my children we