My husband sleeps in a TENT to escape our kids – neighbours think it’s weird but it’s saved our marriage
WRITER and mum-of-two Chloe Hamilton, 33, feared the worst when her husband Stuart, 38, moved into a tent in their back garden in Cambridge.
But she says it’s made their relationship stronger.
WHEN my partner Stuart first announced he wanted to sleep in a tent in the garden, I feared he was leaving me by stealth.
I was also slightly concerned he was having some kind of midlife crisis.
We’d had a second child, Inigo, less than two months earlier and were juggling a hectic life with our toddler Fabian, two, and the newborn.
Stuart works long hours as a secondary school teacher and Fabian, lovely though he is, requires a lot of attention.
That, on top of sleepless nights, meant we were both running on empty.
There is little respite from the reality, both brilliant and brutal, of parenting two young children. Was this his way out?
It turned out his idea of sleeping outside had been inspired by a book called Micro-adventures, written by adventurer Alastair Humphreys.
Even more concerning was when, after two nights in the garden, he ventured farther afield, to the park opposite our house, and set up his tent there to camp out under the stars while I managed night feeds and nappies.
It turned out his idea of sleeping outside had been inspired by a book called Micro-adventures, written by adventurer Alastair Humphreys.
The author, himself a father of two, had found himself craving adventure when the boring everyday life of parenthood hit him hard. He coined the idea of micro-adventures — small, adventurous things you can fit into the margins of your life.
A margin is a small bit of free time — a lunchbreak, a commute or, in Stuart’s case, bedtime, when everyone else is asleep.
Humphreys claims microadventures can improve both mental and physical health, building resilience and encouraging us to live more balanced lives.
‘All-round win’
For the avoidance of doubt, I should stress that I was, and still am, fully supportive of Stuart’s night-time escapades, even if our neighbours have raised eyebrows on seeing his tent on our lawn.
While some have scoffed at our unusual set-up and accused Stuart of relinquishing his responsibilities, or me of kicking an already tired man out into the cold, I’ve never felt more sure that this is the right decision for us both.
Fortunately, friends and family have been supportive, too. One even told me that it sounded like an “all-round win”.
Stuart first broached the idea one particularly stressful Sunday, on the way back from us both taking our boys swimming.
In the car, he revealed for the first time that he was “right on the edge of coping”.
It was clearly a hard conversation for him to have. He was emotional, quiet and clearly anxious. I immediately realised he was being serious.
It struck me, in that moment, that dads’ mental health simply isn’t talked about enough.
I’ve spoken to mum friends while on maternity leave who have experienced something similar — there are fewer places and spaces for dads to discuss fatherhood.
I have lost track of the number of people who have asked if I’m OK post-birth — midwives, health visitors, my GP — and rightly so.
The combination of hormones, exhaustion and the overwhelming sense that life will never be the same again means women are particularly vulnerable to depression and anxiety after having a baby.
But no one has ever checked on Stuart. This, to me, seems to be a real gap in postpartum care — and according to the NHS, up to one in ten new fathers become depressed after having a baby.
Sure, having a newborn is physically tiring for mothers — often relentlessly so.
But there are still pauses in the day when babies sleep or feed and you can catch your breath, scroll Instagram or reply to the endless WhatsApp messages.
But Stuart was mentally exhausted, having been pretty much in sole charge of our wonderful but busy toddler for nearly two months.
While I attempted to sleep when Inigo slept, he was getting very little respite, in a never-ending cycle of screen-time negotiations with Fabian and building train sets. No wonder he needed a break.
What’s more, as I am co-sleeping and breastfeeding, there really isn’t much he can do at night to help.
Far better, then, to be rested — and doing something to help his mental health.
The change to our family was immediate. The first morning after the night before, Stuart walked into the kitchen while I was making breakfast, beaming from ear to ear.
He’d had a full night’s sleep in the tent then woken to watch the sunrise, with the flask of tea he had made up the night before.
With Stuart re-charging overnight by doing something slightly adventurous, he’s able to take the lead with the children in the morning — useful if I’ve had a hard night with the baby.
He was refreshed and revitalised in a way he hadn’t been for months and practically skipped upstairs to rouse sleeping Fabian.
The fact Stuart can, if he wants, sleep in the garden has helped our relationship no end.
We are more patient with each other, as well as better at communicating.
With Stuart re-charging overnight by doing something slightly adventurous, he’s able to take the lead with the children in the morning — useful if I’ve had a hard night with the baby.
Weeks on, and Stuart has had more garden adventures, as well as that one overnight stay in the local park.
As the weather turns, he is revealing himself to be a fairweather camper — not a fan of the rain — but he says just knowing he can go for an outside adventure is enough to bolster him when times are tough.
And I sleep better knowing that, however hard my night, Stuart will be re-energised and can take on some of the workload.
He tells me part of the fun is in the anticipation of a night in the garden, even if he doesn’t end up outside.
He enjoys setting up the tent and Fabian likes helping.
Stuart has attempted a couple of nights in the garden with Fabian but, as anyone who has ever tried to get a toddler to sleep in a tent will appreciate, those weren’t quite as relaxing.
The garden allows him respite, while staying within crying distance of his family.
Only last night, Fabian woke at 11pm having had a nightmare and Stuart reached him before I did, having heard him stir from the garden.
It might not be an arrangement that works for everyone, but it does for us.
And while it’s no replacement for proper mental health support, it’s shown us no parent can pour from an empty cup — and that goes for dads, too.
That’s why Stuart has my full support whenever he wants to set up camp.
And when the time comes that I’m no longer breastfeeding or co-sleeping, he will afford me similar privilege.
I might choose a spa weekend with friends, though, rather than a tent in the garden.
Stuart says: “Some will think I’m mad for sleeping in the garden but it has made me a better father. It’s important for both parents to recharge.
“I also hope talking about it encourages more dads to discuss their mental health.”