I have found over the years that papers like the News of the World and their ilk are viewed as like comics, nothing to be taken seriously, a little bit of idiocy on paper. There is a hell of a lot right about that, but a similar amount wrong – something which is becoming staggeringly more obvious as the days go by.

There are some sick individuals who believe that these things are ok, that these intrusions are somehow part and parcel of getting a story. Luckily most people don’t agree.

It is not enough however to accept what the rest of the media appears to be calling for, the usual sacrificial lambs and some supposed “closure”. If Rebekah Wade leaves her job I am sure that she will reappear in a years time still claiming innocence and maybe even trading on her history to get an even better paid job – more than likely helped along by the book she’ll have time to write. A loss of one job to people like this is nothing – these job losses won’t affect their ability to live day-to-day, we won’t see them down the JobCentre.

The culture that allowed the NOTW, and I am sure some other newsrooms, to find these actions to be fine, is the one that believes that profit is king. The same one that allowed Banks to gamble so recklessly with their customers cash, and their own cash, to a degree that all was likely to be lost.

Tabloid newspapers are a strange beast in that they purport to “report the news”, alongside comment and criticism while angling the whole newspaper towards being a product that sells. If a news story is horrific then this will be played up, dramatised, skewed. People, who may well themselves want celebrity or actually may not, are written about with little regard for truth and accuracy. Privacy is ignored until such time as it can be used as a dirty word, suggesting the hiding of illegality.

For the readers it may be amusing to read, it may seem like the tabloid is a comic. But the readers are not really important here. The subjects of the reports are the important people. Lies, intrusion and harassment can wreck lives, they also sell newspapers.

Maybe the time has come to re-examine the role of the tabloid, not by banning them as much as that may be a preferred choice of many, but by controls that hit them where it hurts whenever they have, or plan to, hit innocent people where it hurts.

Or shall we just give a well-paid woman some gardening leave and say that’s that?

It’s probably best not to go over the lies and lack of understanding that led to things going so bad that I went from Best Man to not being invited to the wedding, let’s just say that I’m still waiting to find out what I did wrong, rather than what I am supposed to have done.

But as I played with Max yesterday morning, and he continued to amaze and amuse me, I felt very glad that I was there. I was there over the weekend as he learnt how to kick a ball and grinned like a mad man, I was with him as he got over his dislike of strawberries and gobbled them down. I was there yesterday after he fell and cut his lip which bled for a good few minutes and caused tears for a few more.

“I was there” with my son is infinitely better than “I was there” when so-and-so slipped into a drunken stupor.

I’ve never been good at receiving advice, especially when it has a chance of touching any part of my ego – in this case my parental skills, which I am only just developing of course. So nearly all of the advice went into the garbage can in my mind. Which is a pity because 6 months down the line we see that we should have followed some of the advice.

What advice should you have listened to?

Now I am a sucker for comedy, and this is a chance to re-evaluate the series that was such a huge hit but ended with a few dodgy episodes that have soured most peoples memories.

As they play in the background they evoke memories of childhood when the show and its specials were a thing to be anticipated and cherished. I distinctly remember watching the two part 1991 special when the family went to Miami at a schoolfriends house, there must have been a big video scheduling issue at our house, with two older brothers there was always a fight over something!

Of course the great beauty of John Sullivan’s sitcom, and the secret of most great British sitcoms, is the bringing to life of the dreamer who never succeeds but always keeps on trying. Del-boy’s “this time next year, we’ll be millionaires” was the basis of his dreams, when he succeeded the story should have ended.

As my son has just dribbled and wiggled past his first 5 months, this old sit-com has gotten me thinking. Now I have so much more responsibility, and so many more dreams, what do I want to be “this time next year”. Maybe it’s time for the sitcom to come to an end.

Luvvly Jubbly.

But I have yet to get around to it. Admittedly I did decide not to on a number of occasions because I looked awful, staggeringly unshaven and tired that nobody should be subjected to seeing such a thing on the internet.

However the main reason that I haven’t done it so far is the lack of time and privacy that I need to actually do it. And this is the same for so many other parts of my work.

At the moment I am not a proper stay-at-home dad as my significant other is still at home and off work, and not due back until January. So I am not fully in charge and haven’t really got into a pattern or schedule.

I am also having trouble breaking away from the missus and young ‘un to get myself the concentrated time needed in order to get things done. But I need to otherwise I will have no clients left by the New Year.

So that is my problem at the moment – I am going to try and do some things to get past this and be more productive.

Let’s hope they work!!

Richmond Park - a good day out

Trying to work from home is proving difficult enough as it is, what with those tiny little demands or desires to help out with the baby, or around the house. They are so many little cuts to the work of the self-employed man.

And I get frustrated. I need sustained time to get things done, to focus on the more complex, otherwise all that gets done are the small tasks, the easiest, least complicated. So my work suffers.

And the frustration seeps into the rest of life – so many times I get to the end of the day and feel I have done so very little. And I ponder staying up all night to do things, but know that if I do then the important family life will suffer as they get a tired, grumpy, anxious daddy.

And so when there are chances for us all to go out as a family to do things, meet friends, etc. I see only the opportunity to stay at home and do the things that I have not been able to do at other times.

Then a fortnight ago I realised what I was missing. This time when we are all at home is going to go by so fast, and is so precious, that it’s criminal for me to just chuck it all away.

So for the last two weeks we have chosen a day each week to get out and go places, just the three of us. We’ve managed to choose lovely sunny days, probably the last before Autumn properly sets in, and been out to parks and National Trust houses.

They’ve been beautiful, fun, precious times – I kick myself for not realising earlier that my focus was off – and we’ll continue to do them for as long as we can. Rain or shine.