Dadvice. All of it.
Everything I’ve learned with G-POD, the hard way, so you can learn it the easy way. 91 tips across 14 topics, from booking in the car nap to changing a nappy on the floor of the men’s. No experts were consulted. Plenty of nappies were harmed.
Car naps
Book in the car to sleep. My number one trick.
Time the drive to the nap
Start driving ten minutes before the nap window opens. By the time you hit the highway they’re gone. Out cold. G-POD has never once beaten this move.
Take the long way
Have a scenic loop ready: up the hills, along the coast road, round the lake. Forty-five minutes of silence and a view. Best part of the day, honestly.
Pick a destination at the end
Plan the drive so they wake up somewhere good. A park, a beach or brekkie. Waking up somewhere fun beats waking up in the driveway every time.
You stay in the car. Always.
If you pull over, you stay with them, engine and aircon running, parked in the shade. Never leave a kid alone in a parked car, not even for a minute and not even if you can see them. Cars in Australia heat up dangerously fast. Not worth it, ever.
The transfer: don’t
Moving a sleeping kid from the car to the cot is like defusing a bomb. Most of the time it goes off. If you’re home early, sit in the car with them with the aircon on and enjoy a podcast.
White noise and the playlist
Same calm playlist every car nap. Their brain learns it means sleep. Keep the volume low and the bangers for the drive home.
Pack the car for the wake-up
Water bottle and a snack within reach. They wake up thirsty, hungry and confused about where they are. So do I, to be fair.
The car nap is the dad equivalent of a spa day.
Brewery and pub days
Yes, you can take the kids. Here’s how to not be that dad.
Pick the right spot
Look for a lawn, a kids’ area or a playground in sight. The Dad Map shows you which ones are kid-friendly. A dark bar with sticky floors is not the move.
Go early arvo
Lunchtime to about three is the sweet spot. Chill crowd, no bands yet and you’re home before anyone loses it.
The carrier nap
Time your visit to the nap. Kid asleep on your chest in the carrier, you on a stool, sipping very carefully over the top of their head. Sway gently. Order quietly. Do not wake the beast.
One and done if you’re driving
If you’re the driver, it’s one schooner or it’s a lemon squash. That’s the rule. No grey areas with the kids in the back.
Grab the table near the play area
Sightlines are everything. If you can’t see them from your seat, it’s the wrong seat.
Clean up your patch
Chip packets, sauce sachets, that one sock. Leave it better than you found it so venues keep loving kids.
Leave on a high
The moment everyone’s happy is the moment to go. Hang around for one more and you’ll be carrying a screaming kid past every table.
A good brewery day ends with a happy kid, a tidy table and a dad who can still drive.
Beach and swimming
Sand, sun and the freestyle tour.
Swim between the flags
Patrolled beach, red and yellow flags, every single time. Non-negotiable, champ.
Get there early
Before 10am you get parking, shade and gentler UV. After 10 you get none of those.
The freestyle tour
Some days you just jump in. Phone, keys and wallet in the dry bag, roll it, clip it and go. Plans are for people without quick-dry boardies.
Quick-dry everything
Your clothes, their clothes, the towel. All quick-dry. Swim in it, walk to the car in it, it’s dry by the time you’re home.
Baby powder for sand
Rub it on sandy legs and the sand just brushes off. Witchcraft. Keep a small bottle in the bag.
Set up a home base
Shade, towel and the bag in one spot. Point at something big and obvious so the kids know where home is.
Eyes on them in the water
Not on your phone, not on the ocean view. Little ones can go under fast and quietly. Arm’s reach for toddlers.
Sand will be found in the car until at least 2031.
Packing the Survival Satchel
Be prepared to do anything.
Pack it the night before
Morning dad is not a reliable packer. Night-before dad has a checklist and a cold one. Trust night-before dad.
Dry bag ready to go
Empty dry bag in the top pocket. Spontaneous swim? Valuables in. Code Brown outfit on the way home? Also in.
Quick-dry clothes for both of you
A full quick-dry change for them and a quick-dry shirt and boardies for you. You will get hit by something today. Vomit, sneeze or smashed avo.
Roll-out change mat, always
Lives rolled up in the bag. Means you can change them on any floor, including the men’s toilets that still don’t have a change table.
Power bank charged
The map, the photos and the emergency episode of Bluey all need battery. A dead phone at 2pm is how dadventures become survival stories.
The emergency jerky stash
Tucked in the food & snack pod. A stick of biltong or jerky each, or as G-POD calls them, Dadda-Meats. (Don’t yell that one too close to a school.) Protein, not sugar, so the meltdown actually ends instead of coming back twice as loud in twenty minutes.
Restock when you get home
Nappies, wipes, snacks, sunscreen. Do it straight away while you remember. Future you will be stoked.
A packed bag is the difference between a dadventure and a disaster.
Nappy changes anywhere
No change table? No worries.
The men’s toilets problem
Plenty of men’s toilets still have no change table. Roll out the mat on the cleanest bit of floor or bench and get it done. The floor’s your table now.
The car boot change
Boot open, mat down, kid on, done. Best change table in the country and it comes with shade if you park right.
Lay it all out first
Clean nappy open, wipes out, nappy sack ready before you undo anything. Once it’s open, you’re on the clock.
One hand on the kid
Always one hand on them on any raised surface. They roll faster than you think and always at the worst moment.
Distraction is key
Hand them something they never get to hold. Keys, a clean toy, a sock puppet. Anything to stop the death roll.
Bag it and bin it
Into a nappy sack, tie it off and into the nearest bin. If there’s no bin, it rides home in the outside pocket. Never leave it behind.
Every dad who’s changed a nappy on a toilet floor is a legend. Welcome to the club.
Snacks and meltdowns
Every meltdown has a price. Usually a rice cracker.
The 3pm witching hour
Around mid-arvo every kid in Australia hits the wall. Get them outside, give them water and feed them something with protein: biltong or jerky, not sugar.
Snack economics
Hand out one snack at a time. Dump the whole bag and the currency loses its value. Basic economics, mate.
Pack more than you think
Kids eat like seagulls on a day out. Then they want what you’re eating. Pack for three people even if there’s two.
Breathe first
In a meltdown, their storm doesn’t have to be your storm. Slow breath, low voice, get down to their level.
Move somewhere quieter
Out of the shop, off the busy path, into the car. Carry them like a sack of spuds if you have to.
Ignore the onlookers
Half the people watching have been there. The other half will be soon. You’re doing fine.
When it’s over, it’s over
No lecture. A hug, a drink of water and move on. G-POD bounces back way faster than I do.
You can’t reason with a hungry toddler. You can only feed them.
Screens, tablets and road trips
Tech that actually helps.
Download before you drive
Country reception is patchy. Download their shows offline at home on the wifi, not on the side of the road with one bar.
Headphones with a volume limit
Kids’ headphones capped at a safe volume protect their ears and your sanity. Nobody needs the theme song on repeat at full blast.
Headrest mount
Mount the tablet on the back of the front seat. No dropped tablets, no ‘Dad, I can’t reach it’ every three minutes.
Screens for the long bits only
Save the screen for the boring stretch of highway. Windows and I Spy for the first twenty minutes. Makes the screen feel like a treat.
Charge everything the night before
Tablet, headphones and power bank. A flat tablet halfway up a mountain road is a special kind of hell.
Look out the front for windy roads
On winding country roads, screens down and eyes out the window. Looking down on curvy roads is a fast track to car sickness.
Have an exit plan
Give a five minute warning before the screen goes off. Then hand over a snack at the exact moment it does. Smooth.
A charged tablet with downloaded shows is worth its weight in gold.
Rainy days
It doesn’t drizzle here. It buckets.
Go early
By 11am every family in town is at the same indoor spot. Get there when it opens and have it to yourself.
Puddle walk
Raincoats on, gumboots on, go get soaked. They love it and they sleep like logs after.
Build a cubby
Couch cushions, sheets and a torch. Cost: nothing. Fun: unlimited. Bonus if you fit inside too.
Check the Dad Map’s rainy day spots
Filter by Rainy day and pick something close. Short drives on wet roads are good drives.
Keep a wet weather kit in the car
Raincoats, spare socks and a towel. Saves you heading home the second the clouds roll in.
Lower the bar
Some rainy days are just pyjamas, pancakes and a movie. That’s a win too.
There’s no bad weather, just a dad who didn’t bring the raincoats.
Bush walks and the hills
Getting to the top without carrying everyone.
Pick the walk for the smallest legs
Not for your legs. Short loops with something cool at the end beat big hikes every time.
Bring the carrier
Little legs officially die at 400m. A carrier means the walk keeps going and your shoulders stay in one piece.
Promise a reward at the top
A snack, a lookout or a creek to throw rocks into. Kids walk a lot further for a sultana than for a view.
Stay on the track
Snakes mostly want nothing to do with you. Stay on the track, give them space and walk on.
Leeches after rain
Damp bush tracks can be leechy. Check legs and socks after and flick them off sideways with a fingernail.
More water than you think
Hats on and plenty of water, even on cloudy days. Humidity sneaks up on you.
Check before you go
Tracks close now and then for weather, burns or repairs. Check the park’s page before you load the car.
The kid who whinges the whole way up will run the whole way down.
Bikes
Strapping small humans to bicycles.
Helmets are the law
In Queensland everyone on a bike has to wear an approved helmet. That includes the little one on the back and you.
Check the seat’s limits
Every kids’ bike seat has a weight limit and a minimum age in the manual. Read it. Your kid should sit up well on their own in a helmet first.
Start on flat paths
First rides on flat, quiet paths away from traffic. Get a feel for the extra weight before anything hilly.
Trailers for the big days
A trailer fits snacks, a kid and the bag. Wide as a ute though, so stick to wide paths.
Pack a spare tube
You won’t need it until the one day you didn’t pack it.
Let them win downhill
Once they’re on their own bikes they will overtake you. Let them have it. It’s good for them and you’re slower anyway.
Helmet on, snacks loaded, ego left at the car park.
Sleep and routines on the go
Protect the nap. The nap protects you.
Plan the day around the nap
Not the other way round. Big stuff in the morning, nap in the middle, chill stuff in the arvo. The Day-Maker does this for you.
Watch for the tired signs
Eye rubbing, staring into space, sudden clumsiness. That’s your cue. Wait any longer and you’re dealing with overtired, which is a whole other beast.
Overtired needs calm
Overtired kids go feral, not sleepy. Lower the lights, slow everything down and keep it quiet.
Same bedtime routine, even after a big day
Bath, book, bed. The routine is the signal. Keep it the same even if the day was chaos.
Big day, early night
After a massive day out, bring bedtime forward a bit. Everyone wins, especially you.
One missed nap isn’t the end of the world
Sometimes the nap just doesn’t happen. Early bedtime, move on and try again tomorrow.
Never wake a sleeping kid. Unless it’s 4:30pm. Then you have to. Sorry.
Sun safety
Queensland sun does not muck around.
Slip, slop, slap, seek, slide
Shirt, sunscreen, hat, shade and sunnies. The classic still works because it’s right.
Sunscreen before you leave home
Put it on at home, before the excitement starts. Way easier than chasing them round the car park.
Reapply more often than you think
Especially after swimming and towelling off. Set a reminder on your phone if you have to.
Hats that stay on
Wide-brim hats with a chin strap. Clip it to the bag when it’s not on a head so it doesn’t get lost.
Shade in the middle of the day
Plan indoor or shady stuff for the hottest part of the day. Beach and playground early or late.
Water, water, water
Little kids get dehydrated fast in the heat. Keep offering a drink even if they say they’re not thirsty.
A sunburnt kid is a cranky kid for three days. Not worth it.
Dad survival
Looking after the bloke looking after them.
Coffee is a valid plan
Building the morning around a decent coffee spot is not selfish. It’s strategy.
Find your dad mates
Other dads at the park are going through the exact same stuff. Have a yarn. Organise a playground catch-up. Swap tips.
It’s ok to have a crap day
Some days nothing works. Everyone cries, including you. Tomorrow’s a fresh start. You’re still a good dad.
Ask for help
Asking your partner, family or mates for a hand isn’t weakness. If you’re feeling flat for more than a few days, have a chat to your GP or call a mate. It matters.
Get your own exercise in
A carrier walk, a bike ride with the trailer or a swim. Moving your body sorts your head out more than you’d think.
Take the photos
Even on the chaotic days. Especially on the chaotic days. G-POD covered in mud at a swimming hole is my favourite photo of all time.
You can’t pour from an empty esky.
Planning the weekend
Or not planning it. Both work.
Let the Day-Maker do it
Put in wake-up, nap and bedtime and it builds a whole day around the naps. Shuffle what you don’t like, lock what you do.
One big thing per day
One main event plus a park and food. Cram in four big things and you’ll end up with zero happy people.
Have a rainy day backup
Coast weather changes fast. Have an indoor option in your back pocket before you leave.
Check opening hours
Places change. A quick look before you load the car saves a very long, very loud drive home.
Leave room for the freestyle tour
Some of the best days are the unplanned ones. Bag packed, ready for anything, follow the fun.
Roll the Dad Dice
No ideas at all? Roll the dice on the home page and let fate pick your adventure.
A plan is just a list of things that won’t happen. Pack the bag anyway.
Nothing on that one yet. Tell me and I’ll learn it the hard way.