Leaving Harry behind

I’m happy to admit that I find it very difficult leaving Harry. I’ve got used to going to work, largely because I’ve managed to establish a routine that allows me to feed Harry his breakfast before I go, then bath him and put him to bed when I return home.

I also make an exception when it comes to Harry spending the odd night at his grandparents – it gives Melissa and I the chance to relax, not to mention the chance to have a bit of a lie-in. Even then, we’re always in a hurry to pick him up the following morning.

However, I spent last weekend on a stag night in Poland and it brought home to me just how precious my weekends are when it comes to spending time with Harry.

As best man, I simply had to go, and I’m not going to pretend I didn’t enjoy the chance to have a few beers and a catch up with my friends; after all, since Harry arrived, it’s not been a regular occurrence.

But I do look forward to my weekends enormously because I get to spend so much time with Harry. Melissa likes to hand responsibility for him over to me, and I can spend all day running round after him. What made it worse was on this occasion was the fact that Harry had been poorly last week, suffering from a bout of tonsillitis.

So you can imagine my horror when we arrived at Krakow Airport on Sunday morning, only to find that Liverpool Airport was closed. Initially we were told there would be no flights to Liverpool for a few days and the prospects for the rest of the UK were looking bleak. The thought of being away from Harry for a few more days was heartbreaking.

Eventually, we managed to find four seats on a flight to Bristol. My friends immediately said that I should have one of them, as I needed to get back to Harry. I was extremely relieved and grabbed the chance to get home with both hands. I did feel a bit guilty about leaving the others behind, though, particularly when I found out they weren’t going to get back until Tuesday.

We finally made it home just before midnight on Sunday, much to my relief. Of course, Harry was fast asleep, and it took a fair amount of self control not to pick him up and give him a cuddle. When I heard him crying in the night, though, I was in his room like a flash.

He seemed very pleased to see me when he woke the following morning and I was over the moon when he pointed at me and said ‘da da’. Let’s just say I’m looking forward to this weekend.