Zombie.

How to entertain a hyperactive toddler when you just want to sleeeeep? A disco of course! Close the curtains (no one needs to see me rocking the funky chicken at 10am) and crank up the volume on the iPod. T loves music, and is as happy bopping along to the Postman Pat theme as he is Prince ('Raspberry beret' a particular favourite, since you ask). However the song that got him grooving today was...

Zombie by the Cranberries. Not a natural choice on the playlist of most under 3's, I grant you. But the sight of my beautiful boy swaying to the tune whilst blissfully ignorant of the heartrending lyrics and the powerful message behind them was a sight that will stay with me. The song is evocative on so many levels, as it conjures up images of war-torn Belfast, but also the nostalgia for University days spent listening to music and nights spent dancing in indie clubs, taking every lyric to heart, thinking we could take on the world and win.

A long way from dancing in the dining room of a suburban house with a toddler. The juxtaposition of my old life and new life was stark. But I would trade any number of nights at the indie disco to spend one moment watching my infant son swaying to the Cranberries without a care in the world.

Post-holiday Blues...

So, following a much needed weekend away with Mr McGraw (more of which later...), T has decided that sleep is for wimps. Which means anguished screams circa 3am ( he does like to mix it up though just to keep us on our toes so really any time between midnight and 4am), arms outstretched and wails of "Mumma...Mumma...MUMMA!". The only cure appears to be a swift extraction from his cot to the marital bed- plonked squarely betwixt Mr M and I, where he metamorphs into his usual sunny self,shouting "Hiya!" at top volume.

Having turned nocturnal, day times with T have been no picnic this week either. Having left T for the weekend, he now sobs his heart out if I so much as disappear from his line of vision. A new low was reached on Friday when he insisted on accompanying me to the toilet at a friend's house. Then opened the toilet door- mid flow.

Suffice to say lack of sleep and a toddler between you in bed means that the glow of a weekend away soon diminishes and bickering sets in.

To me it seems a high price to pay for a weekend away to reconnect as husband and wife. 2 days 'off' (missing your offspring like crazy all the while) to then have 2 weeks of disrupted sleep and a toddler superglued to your side during waking hours...is it worth it? There can be no doubt that time away from being Mum and Dad is a key weapon in the fight to retain one's sexuality. But how to minimise the fallout afterwards? If I figure it out you guys will be the first to know...