I love him to death but...

Recently this blog seems to have been all sweetness and light. Lest anyone mistakenly conclude that this narrative is a smug celebration of a life that defines the utopian experience, here are a few bumps in the road.

I miss going out as a couple with Hayley. We haven't managed anything near enough evenings out for the just the two of us and I know that's wrong. But we lack a good baby sitter who knows Oliver and with whom he is comfortable. We are trying to rectify that, but it's not easy.

I miss my sleep. Last week the clocks went back for the end of British Summer Time. That used to mean an extra hour in bed. Ha! Fat chance. This time it meant an extra hour of play for Oliver. Mummy and Daddy were exhausted by the time he went to bed.

I miss going to Man Utd, especially with Hayley.

I miss having the time to sit and play guitar, let alone ponder long enough to write a song.

I miss being able to go out and eat a meal at a leisurely pace instead of having to wolf down food in time to pacify my bored/fractious/not-getting-his-way toddler. Last weekend I met Hayley and Oliver at Jaba, an Indian deli in Heaton Mersey. He protested at sitting down, refused all food (Indian or otherwise), climbed all over us as we ate and even when I took him for a walk as he'd been demanding he protested at that too after a couple of minutes. The result? Lovely food eaten at 100 miles per hour. So much for the pleasant lunch I pictured as I headed up there to meet them.

So there you have it. It's not a long list really. And I'd probably be quite happy if I could just get a bit more time with Hayley as a couple again. Preferably within the next 20 years!