According to a close, single-mother friend of mine, "All men are emotionally retarded to some degree and therefore much less equipped than women to bring up children alone."

As a single dad, I don't completely disagree. Despite a trend to argue otherwise, most childcare experts agree that children ideally need a mother and a father to bring them up.

But if parents split, should the mother automatically be given custody?

Increasingly vocal fathers' groups -- and Bob Geldof -- think not. But having been bringing up my kids alone for seven years, I have become very aware of men's limitations when it comes to trying to be a father and a mother.

"Look at your house," says my friend. "It's like a cave -- devoid of soft furnishings and often messy as well.

"You've never realised that children need a gentle, nurturing environment in which to grow up and flourish."

I realise that now -- rather late in the day. My way of keeping domestic work to a minimum has been to strip the house of clutter. It is, therefore, bare. And I don't do nearly as much housework as I should.

I fall short elsewhere too. Most mums of my acquaintance have a strict evening routine -- supper, homework, bath, bed. My routine goes haywire frequently. I like my boys to eat proper food, so sometimes I spend too long cooking something wonderful, which means it can be frighteningly close to midnight before we've even had supper.

And too often I've insisted on an evening walk or bike ride -- which has meant no time for homework. We've then skipped the bath, or even a wash (and sometimes, I'm ashamed to say, teeth-brushing), and I've bundled them up to bed far too late, minutes after vigorous exercise -- and expected them to nod off immediately. "Can you read us a story?" "No! Go to sleep!" That's not very nurturing, is it?

I haven't always had reservoirs of emotional sensitivity. And neither has my own sweet father. He was born in 1922, one of six kids who lost their mum when he was seven.

He fought hardship and then a war, and nobody took much time when he was a child to connect with his emotions.

He's been a great dad but obviously not the world's most touchy-feely father.

When I started going bald at 19, he told me about a balding man in the war: "The chap went to the medic... And do you know the MO said? 'I've got men around me getting blown to bits and you come to me about your hair! Get out of my bloody sight!'"

I'm slightly more sensitive but still fall short. Too often when the boys have fallen over and grazed their knees, I've simply told them to get up. I've occasionally kissed them in a rather gauche way but often in the early days I didn't even have plasters in the house.

Mother friends of mine would make a massive fuss of their poor wounded soldier and offer them a choice of cheery coloured plasters.

When I've been a knackered single dad -- especially when knackered thanks to the kids -- I've had even less sympathy.

For example, I might have spent three hours cooking what I thought was a fantastic meal. I've served it with pride, only for the kids to say it's horrid. I've told them to eat it; emotions have got heated; my food has been spilt; and they have had the cheek to start shedding tears... I've then erupted like Vesuvius. "Why don't you just give them a hug?" said a friend. "Give them a hug? What, for being vile?"

It can be hard when kids wind you up -- and then expect sympathy. But, of course, I know the theory that sensible parents stand back -- and don't start getting all emotional with their kids when they start getting emotional.

So although it is not most men's strong point, emotional intelligence can be learnt and developed. There is, therefore, hope for us Neanderthals.

I have come on in leaps and bounds since becoming a single father. My emotional intelligence doesn't surface all the time, but I no longer join in the arguing and fighting the moment my two kids start arguing and fighting. And I try to look for reasons when they are upset -- even when they are horrible to me.

I've also learnt about fresh duvet covers. I find housework extremely stressful -- it sends my heart rate soaring and makes me breathless.

I once read that stress reduces testosterone levels and increases oestrogen production so maybe this is nature's way of telling me that housework is really not a man thing.

I also read once that the BBC's John Humphreys likes ironing. Apparently he finds it relaxing. But if John was stuck in the house all day instead of haranguing politicians, he wouldn't find it so soothing. And does John like changing duvet covers?

This is the mother of stressful household activities but a mum friend has taught me how this horrendous task can be done slightly more simply -- you hang the duvet cover over the stairs and fill it from the top of the banister. I now do this (almost) weekly and my little gents sleep much better.

But despite our handicaps, men do have assets when it comes to parenting.

Our DIY skills are overrated (most women can put up far better shelves than I can) but our physical strength is an asset, especially when you've got boys.

I would possibly be a more limited single father if my teenage children were girls.

But they're hulking lads who love testing out their ever-increasing strength on me. I might be hoovering when a boy suddenly jumps on me and throws me to the floor.

I floor him. We have a wrestle. I prove I'm still the house dominant male. And then return to my hoovering.

Another strength of mine is male recklessness. Since they were toddlers my kids and I have had adventures that other people have said were foolhardy. When my first son was born, my mother told me: "Whatever you do, Matthew, enjoy your children." And I've tried to follow her advice.

I've driven across America and Canada with the kids. We've busked in Florida and camped around Europe. And we've enjoyed numerous activities together -- anything from football to fishing.

We talk all the time as well. I don't know how useful my advice would be for girls but my kids are blokes and we talk candidly about everything.

However, I have also learnt that paternal advice is more useful when reinforced by other men -- a friend, a teacher, one of my brothers. So if it is something I'm really concerned about, I ask other men to make the point too.

I'm still pretty poor at multitasking. If I'm doing something and someone phones, I give them 100pc attention (unlike mothers I know who balance the phone between their chin and shoulder and carry on helping with homework).

But I've become better at running the home -- and working from it -- even during long school holidays.

"You're a much better dad than I could ever be," my single-mother friend told me.

"And you're probably a better dad than most dads ever are. But you're still not a great mum. And kids need a mum first and foremost."

Maybe she's right. But men can find and develop the mother in them -- especially when they have inspiring mother friends.

- Matthew Collins