Two Men Walk Into A Bar (only this ain’t funny)

Standing at the bar, I stared at the ales on offer but, unlike me, cared little for the drink I’d be consuming. Surrounding me were Sunday drinkers, fresh from watching the football or having had Sunday lunch, sharing jokes, sinking pints and creating an air of happiness on what was a glorious spring day.

I had other things on my mind. Earlier that morning, the ex sprung it on me that her partner was finally ready to meet me and could do so that evening. As I had been insisting on meeting this bloke for ages, I couldn’t turn down the offer. However, standing at the bar, pondering what to say to this man was an odd moment. I had already known in my mind what message I wanted to get across, but right there and then I had no idea how I’d greet this bloke. Do I shake his hand? Do I offer him a drink? What actually is etiquette when meeting the man who two years ago I found out was sleeping with my then wife, thus breaking up my family, meaning I see my kids only 50% of time in the week?

‘Honey, I Miss The Kids’

To celebrate the New Year, Soon-To-Be and I decided to have one last city break before properly saving for our wedding. After deliberating where to go for approximately 30 seconds, we decided to head to the city of Reykjavik in Iceland.

An Open Letter To My Children

Dear Kids,

Well, what a 2018 it’s been eh?! I can honestly say that it’s been one of the most interesting years of my entire life and sharing it with you two makes it perfect.

In fact, sharing any year with you guys is perfect.

I won’t lie, 2017 was pretty awful. Learning about your Mum’s affair, her leaving in the middle of the night out of the blue and Grandad’s battle with cancer, did leave me slightly battered at times, but with you two in my life those testing times were overcome with relative ease. When on the brink, nothing brings you back to earth like your son announcing he’s blocked the toilet or your daughter demanding I dance with her in the kitchen, before sulking when I don’t complete the splits.

Away Days

My son has inherited a love for football like his Dad. Through relentless brainwashing he has ended up supporting the same team as me, resulting in the two of us going up and down the country to watch our heroes play, and most usually lose, football matches. I love having that bond with him, it means so much to me to see him passionate and engaged in something I too gain immense pleasure from.

A dilemma occurred last winter when a game I wanted to go to was taking place on the weekend I was due to have the kids. Soon-To-Be had only just met the children so it wasn’t appropriate for her to look after my daughter for such a long period and also, I didn’t really want to miss out on spending time with my girl. Therefore, I made an executive decision, I was going to take my daughter to her first ever football match.

Picture Perfect

Something amazing happened this evening. Something so small and seemingly trivial on the one hand, but also monumental on the other. It stopped me in my tracks and left Soon-To-Be close to tears.

Associated Pancakes

I never knew the simple act of making pancakes on a Sunday morning could become so significant. On the weekends when I have the kids, one of the first things my daughter asks is whether I’ll be making pancakes, knowing full well that my answer will be a ‘yes’. I believe she thinks they are a healthy side-dish to accompany the hideous amounts of chocolate spread she smears over them!

“Dad, will Mum ever tell me why she left?”

In what was a tough week at work I awoke with what can only be described as a spring in my step. Yes, it was a Friday but this wasn’t an ordinary end-of-the-week day. This was the day I’d see my children again, having not spoken to them for four whole nights!

Having been on half term, their mum decided to take both camping. Camping, I’ll be frank, has never appealed to me, so it is good that both of my two are given the chance to experience the great outdoors. The downside of course, was that I was unable to contact them as they went to an area with zero phone signal. By the time Friday came I was bursting to see them.

Home to a Loud Quietness

Waking up with kids on a Sunday morning after the clocks go back is relatively pleasant, once they have reached an age where sleep is starting to be valued that is. I was awoken at 9:00am (or was it 8:00am; bloody clocks going back always throws me) to the sound of my little girl zipping up her suitcase in the next room. It was the day we were due to go back home from visiting my parents and under no circumstances was she going to leave her teddies down south with Nanny and Grandad.