Before I got with my boyfriend I had never really lived with a bloke before. I had been in a previous long-term relationship where we practically shared our two flats and only spent one or two nights apart a week. But it's still not the same is it?
If you have followed the blog for a while you will know that I got pregnant pretty early into my current relationship. Very early. So it kind of went a bit like this....
Me: "Oh hi, um, boyfriend of six weeks. Guess what? I'm kinda pregnant"
Him: "I guess you better move in then".
That's not to trivialise our relationship. We are a strong family unit and good parents to A having been together now for two and a half years. Always fun watching people's faces when you tell them that and then tell them that Ava is only 19 months.
The thing with living together is that it worried me a little as I like my own space. A lot. But it kinda worked out really well. He's quite accommodating to be fair. I pretty much stole the comfy bit of the sofa about 3 minutes after I moved in and he hasn't got it back since. And he lets me litter the flat with my scented candles and girly jewellery stands and stuff. And it wasn't long before he gave in to me and we got a bigger flat screen telly and put flooring down in the living-room.
See, nagging works girls. Nagging works.
So now he's kind of gone most of the time and we only get to see him for a couple of days twice a month. I'm not going to lie, I love having the place to myself. Even though I pretty much had the run of it anyway (you know it's true boyfriend). But it is nice to have everything my way. To not have to worry about dirty dishes in the sink or to worry about the fact that he always forgets to lock the fucking balcony door. Yes, I know that the chances of someone climbing all the way up to the top floor via the outside wall and breaking in via the balcony door are slim. But unlocked doors keep me up at night.
However, there are some things that I do miss.......
- Having a bubble bath AND a glass of wine poured for me on my arrival home after a bad day
- Speaking of bubble baths, having someone to take turns at bathing the kid cause I know its the perfect opportunity for some one on one quality time with the sprog, but man it's a chore
- Having my hot water bottle filled for me whilst I brush my teeth. Although my argument "but you do it sooo much better than meeee" was starting to wear a little thin
- I'm having to buy my own flowers. It's not liberating. It's annoying. I'm a disappointing feminist.
- Occasionally getting help with the housework although to be fair that one was pretty rare anyway
- When Ava does something hilariously funny and I can't turn round and share it with her Dad. Sending a text explaining what happened is just not the same. And usually the way I explain it isn't very funny
- Following the same programme on TV and watching it with a nice dinner while Ava is in bed. Ok that's a lie. I just miss being able to pause it to ask someone what's happening cause I've spent too much time on Twitter and not followed the plot properly
- A long lie. My god what I wouldn't give for a long lie
- Just generally someone to get me stuff. Although Ava is getting better at this. If I can just get her making G&T's then I've cracked it
The bloke does make up for his absence in other ways. Like the bloody amazing surprise treasure hunt we came home to in the flat at Easter which led us to lots of yummy Lindt chocolate. Or the fact he sometimes comes home with little presents from up north.
But blokes be warned: my next post will probably be about all the things that I DON'T miss about living with a boy.
6 comments:
im confused as the why he gone now ? im new to your blog so i may have missed something ..
He works away from home xx
I love this post SO much! Knowing you as I do, I know that this shows how much you love him and what a perfect family unit you are xx
Ha. I was worried that it sounded like I just missed him cause he got me stuff ;) xx
Damn, I wish that someone would run ME a bath and bring me some wine sometimes. I don't suppose my flatmates would take too kindly if I suggested one of them did that for me. Or would they...?
Can I please be there when you ask them?
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