I used to think my toughest client sat on the other end of a Teams call, now he throws books at my head if I don’t turn the pages fast enough. The client’s name is Teddy, he’s nearly 18 months old and he’s my son. Depending on the day, he’s either the best project I’ve ever worked on or the one most likely to scream in my face because I cut his banana up wrong.
We can’t quite remember where the name Teddy came from. Perhaps the idea just hit us, or was it a creative brainstorm at the dinner table? I don’t think we murder boarded it or workshopped it, it just kind of was. It isn’t short for anything, I don’t like the idea of nickname names, so he’s not Theodore, just Teddy. Probably something to do with my name, a loose brand extension or a branded house approach or quite possibly an ego thing, (creatives, right?) His name just felt right, signed off first time.
But here he is, my greatest creative achievement. Which I know sounds dramatic – but it’s true. I’ve worked on global brands, campaigns, created entire identities from scratch. None of them required this much revision. Or this little sleep. From 9-5:30, I’m a creative. I design things. I craft things. I make things make sense. But at the same time, all the time, and sometimes 5:12am on a Saturday, I’m Dad.
Two different jobs but they require the same skills: empathy; patience; communication; problem-solving; creativity. Also, an ability to stay calm while someone shouts “No” at your face with increasing volume.
Both roles have briefs that change halfway through. Both involve tight deadlines, last-minute feedback, and “clients” who don’t really know what they want until they see it and then change their mind. I spend my days responding to feedback like “I preferred the other one”, “Why is it that colour?”, “Can you make it bigger?”,
“I don’t like it anymore”, “That’s not what I meant”. And my evenings? The exact same. Only now the person saying it is 80cm tall, covered in spaghetti (currently his favourite, until it isn’t, and he launches it at the wall), and only just learning to form actual words.
Raising a child is a bit like a rebrand that never ends. There’s no sign-off. No big reveal. No final_final_Final file. Just an evolving, shifting, chaotic thing that somehow starts to make sense through sheer repetition and care. With every day comes a new iteration. And like any good creative project, it forces you to think differently. Having Teddy has made me a better communicator because he literally doesn’t understand me unless I simplify. Unless I really try and think about what I’m trying to say and how I’m saying it. Try briefing a toddler. Or getting feedback from one. There’s no room for pontification. They’ll just walk away. Sometimes mid-sent…
That simplicity, that way of communicating, It’s bled into my work. So has the empathy. I’m more patient now. Less precious. More aware of other people’s energy. I’ve got no time for ego, because I used up all my tolerance negotiating with a toddler about how the Calpol syringe isn’t the best toy to take to nursery. I’ve never respected working parents more. Not in a LinkedIn way. Just in a quiet, “how are you doing this?” way. I often feel like Jekyll and Hyde, shifting between two lives every day. One minute you’re discussing creative strategy. The next you’re washing suspicious coloured marks out of tiny baby grows. And both roles matter. You don’t get to drop the ball in either. There’s no “quiet quitting” when your client lives with you and is totally dependent.
Work-life balance is one I’m still figuring out. Some days I feel like I’m nailing it. Other days I’m late to nursery and late to a meeting with a pocket full of dummies and still have to find the energy to pretend I’m not completely overwhelmed. But I wouldn’t change it. Because the chaos of parenthood reminds me why I do this job in the first place. Creativity isn’t neat. It’s not clean, or calm, or predictable. It’s messy and emotional and utterly absorbing. So is fatherhood. And honestly, I love the chaos, I’ve learned over time I can’t perform my best if I’m not at 100%. I guess that’s true about both of my jobs.
Parenthood hasn’t made me a different creative. But it has probably made me a better one.
More human. More tired, yes. But also, more tuned in. I’ve learned that sometimes the best ideas come after the tantrum. That empathy beats ego. And that toast tastes better when it’s cut into ‘fingers’ – because that’s what the client asked for.
I’ve embellished the truth, somewhat. His vocabulary currently extends to three words. Tiger, Flower and Star. But he does love spaghetti.
