1 day ago
10
Oh man. I really thought this was going to be the one. I thought Stacey & Joe, the new reality show starring Stacey Solomon and Joe Swash and their 800 children (five) would let me escape and forget the troubles of the world. Because I like Joe Swash (for it is impossible to dislike Joe Swash. I mean, disliking Joe Swash is not a thing. You won’t. You can’t.) and I absolutely love Stacey Solomon. Her wit, kindness, radiant energy and endless charisma, plus her ability to bring order out of chaos in Sort Your Life Out heals something deep in my soul.
So I was greatly looking forward to seeing them all live in their gorgeous, fully storage-solutioned house in Essex, a peek into a life running – unlike mine – along well-ordered lines, with a place for everything and everything in its place.
But it’s chaos. Mostly because of Joe bloody Swash. Give Stacey full control and I bet we’d see something magnificent. I bet the Platonic ideal of motherhood would emerge: a lovingly regimented schedule for the kids that got them off to school smoothly – fed, washed, and in time every morning; an efficiently planned work diary with meetings running to time and deadlines for all her ventures effortlessly met; then quality time in the evenings with the children once their homework and art projects were done, reading diaries signed and bags and lunches prepped for the next day.
But Joe is there. Don’t get me wrong, he is clearly a caring father – as much to the two boys from Stacey’s previous relationship as to the three under-fives they have together. “They may not be my biological kids,” he says (almost tearfully, because all of Joe’s emotions live touchingly close to the surface), “but I’m telling you – if I’d had the choice, I’d have had them.” He clearly loves Stacey with all his heart and other parts of his anatomy (“I’d grab Stacey all day long, but for her there’s a time and a place”) and he certainly means well. Which is lovely, obviously, but does it make up for the fact that he’s utterly useless? He is meant to be a househusband while Stacey works. The definition of “househusband” is surely “someone with almost total responsibility for running domestic matters, both day-to-day and long term, thus freeing the other half of a couple to concentrate on professional and any other concerns, so that both partners may benefit the whole.”
What does Joe do? He pops out for an hour to get an anniversary present while she starts preparing for their huge family dinner, in-laws included, and is gone all afternoon. Must be home by 10am from a fishing trip with his pals (“Why is ‘Try my hardest’ part of that sentence?” asks Stacey when she rings to remind him of his promise) so he can take care of the wee ones while Stacey holds an important meeting at home about a proposed new fragrance launch. Is hours late. He does the shopping and forgets nappies. Goes out for nappies precisely when they need all hands on deck packing for their summer holiday in time to catch their flight. “I’m always … one step behind time” says Joe. Stacey is clearer. “I just don’t think he thinks. Whereas I feel like I spend my life thinking, ‘Have I done that, did I remember that … I dunno’,” she adds. “When I come back, I wanna be Joe Swash. It’s an easy life.”
They have no childminder or other help apart from Stacey’s lovely dad Dave, who comes across the lens almost as beautifully as his daughter. “My grandchildren are my absolute world. You don’t know until you’ve got them.” But my hopes and dreams of a reality show, a couple and a family that don’t send my blood pressure through the roof, who could be aspirational instead of … this lie broken on the ground. Fragments and dust. Stacey – I have questions, but of course I don’t blame you. Joe – I have no questions. Every woman knows you and your people and has a lot of answers. Come see us and we will instil them and return you to Stacey a new man. It will sort her life out no end.
Stacey & Joe aired on BBC One and is on iPlayer now.
