A reset for tired dads of little kids. One small job a day across home, kids and mates. No gadgets, no big talks, no 5am alarm. Just ten minutes and a tick.
✓Day 1: ten minutes
Week one runs on adrenaline and good intentions. Someone drops round a lasagne, the messages come in, you feel like you've got this. Then week two turns up. The adrenaline stops, the messages stop, and the actual tiredness arrives. That's also the week you find out the house doesn't run itself.
Maybe your week two is a new baby. Maybe it's a toddler stage that's flattening you, a job eating your evenings, or just a long run of bad nights. The feeling is the same: everyone else seems to have this sorted. They don't. I'm a dad of two in Bristol and I'd put money on it.
So here's the deal. Seven days, ten minutes a day, one small job across home, kids and mates. It's the same tiredness showing up in three places, so we touch all three, lightly.
Good enough is the whole job. Marcus
Every day has its own page: today's job, the exact words to say, why it works, what to do if it goes wrong, and a box to tick.
Ask the person you live with for one thing you could do tomorrow. Then do it.
Stuck? Pick the smallest yourselfTen minutes outside before the evening starts. Phone in your pocket.
Pouring? Stand in the doorwayGet down where your toddler is. Don't direct, don't fix. Let them be the expert.
Ignored? You were there. Tick itOne mate you haven't spoken to for a month. One short message. Phone down.
No reply? Leave it. You did the jobThank your partner for one specific thing, and what it made easier for you.
Brushed off? Say "I mean it"Best bit, funniest bit, tomorrow. You go first. "Banana" is a valid answer.
Chaos? Thirty seconds from the doorwayRe-score yourself and pick the three days you'd actually keep.
Count it, don't judge itSteady, Home, Kids and Mates, scored out of ten on Day 0 and Day 7. Your numbers, your proof.
When you're knackered, a big plan is just another thing you're failing at. Ten minutes is something you can still do on a terrible day.
Missed a day? Open the next one. No catching up, no doubling, no starting again. One missed day isn't failing. Giving up on the second is.
One rule, one job, one line to say. You never have to work out what to do. That decision is already made.
"The tick-sheet is a record, not a courtroom."
Plans don't die on Day 1. They die at 9pm on a bad night, at a blank message box, and at "I've got no idea what to do for them". Each bonus is built for one of those moments.
Kids finally down. You're sitting there feeling flat. Five steps, about ten minutes.
Why it gets you more out of the 7 days: The worst evening is the one that kills tomorrow's job. This gets you to bed with a plan of one.
For Day 4, and every day after. Send the one that sounds like you.
Why it gets you more out of the 7 days: Most men wait for the right words, so the message never gets sent. Borrow a line and Day 4 takes thirty seconds.
Day 1 needs a favour. Pick from the list if you're stuck.
Why it gets you more out of the 7 days: It's the thing they didn't have to ask for that counts. Don't announce it, just do it.
A 22-page PDF guide: a letter from Marcus, your Day 0 score, seven daily pages, the "if you miss a day" page, your Day 7 re-score, a Keep Three page, the whole week on one page, a printable fridge card, and three bonuses (the 9pm Reset Card, Ten One-Line Texts and Ten Favours Under Ten Minutes). You download it straight after paying. It works on your phone, or print the pages you want.
Tonight is fine. Do the Day 0 score first (five minutes), then Day 1 tomorrow. Any day of the week works. If you do shifts or nights, move the days to suit.
Open the next one. No restarts, no catching up, no doubling. Fill in four boxes out of seven and that's four ten-minute moments that wouldn't have happened otherwise.
Yes. Swap "toddler" for "whoever's closest". The ten minutes still works. If you're doing it on your own, aim the home days at yourself or the adult you rely on most.
No. It isn't therapy, medical advice or relationship counselling, and it can't promise a result. It's seven small habits from one ordinary dad. Some weeks are just weeks. If you're struggling beyond tiredness, talk to your GP or call Samaritans free on 116 123. The guide has the full list.
It's the launch price. It goes up to $29 on 8 November 2026 (UK time), automatically. Buy before then and you pay the launch price, once, with no subscription.
That's the price. One payment, no subscription.
Yes. Visitors in the UK see and pay in GBP, so there's no conversion fee from your bank. Everyone else pays in USD. You can switch with the "Show prices in" link under the price.
Marcus Reid is an AI-generated character, not a real person. His family, his Bristol and his two toddlers are part of the character. The habits in the guide are everyday ideas: ask for one thing, go outside, get down on the floor, send a text. We say this in the guide, too.
It's an instant digital download. If a file is faulty or won't open, email us within 7 days and we'll replace it, and if you're charged twice we refund the extra charge. Your legal rights aren't affected. Details in the policies.
Seven daily pages, your Day 0 and Day 7 scores, the "if you miss a day" page, the fridge card, and three bonuses: the 9pm Reset Card, Ten One-Line Texts and Ten Favours Under Ten Minutes.
Launch price ends 7 November at midnight (UK time)
Marcus Reid