My wife hates to be tagged and play the role of "wife". That's part of the problem. She does not do "mumsy". She freely admits that she has never been and will never be an "earth mother".

But I have never wanted an earth mother for a “wife”. Our children certainly need her to be a “mother” – and she is very much a “fun” mother. Probably more so than I can be a “fun” father, although many has been the occasion when she has pointed out how much of a “child” I can be. This is not just a reference to some of the ways, the inventiveness and creativity of certain games and play that I have with the children. I suspect that she meant the term to refer to how I react to her sometimes! Whilst she brings more the practical and activity based fun, I tend to bring more the cerebral, love of heroes (from history) and sports side to our boy's development (and maths, as my wife is hopeless at that!).

But whilst I know she adores our children, it is clear that they got in the way of her “other self”, the one that she was when we first met, the one that also attracted me to her, the one that I know is very much still there within her and bursting to get out, to be released.

She is a number of different women, all residing within one person (I guess that makes me a bygamist!). Schizophrenic – but that can be endearing as well as unsettling at times. Not everyone can “handle” her. It’s not been an easy ride, but by and large, I have coped for over 8 years probably because I am a relatively “stable” person myself. Different to her, but that is my strength and the balance that I can give back to her. Because, admit or not, she does need stability and commitment from someone.

But I knew this, that’s why I married her (and all her various other personae). She can certainly satisfy all (well, most) of my own different needs. The trouble comes when it is not obvious, and she does not let on, which of her many personae she has decided to be that day/evening, so that I cannot respond accordingly. Then I cannot satisfy her need(s) of the moment.

When she dons one of her short skirts, is fully made up and looking glamorous, it is usually obvious who she has decided to be that day. But what about when she has her bathrobe, slippers and glasses on? Is she what she was before she put them on, what she is at that moment, or what she intends to be after she takes the bathrobe off?

It is not always obvious you see. She can camouflage herself well; does not always speak her mind as clearly as she says she does. But her legs will always look great, whoever she is, and they do distract me enormously and sometimes fog my eyes as to who she is.

I did not ask or want her to change from her “old self” – from “ME”. Her change came as a result of nature’s development of bringing children into the world.

We did not get married until three and a half years after we met, after the second child. We have been together a total of eight and a half years. Quite some record by her past relationship experiences I understand. I don’t believe that it was merely down to the fact that she was “saddled” with marriage. But I am now viewed as “Mr Husband”, rather than “Mr Lover/Rescuer”, yet she keeps saying how I have never changed since she has known me, but that she has.

I find myself contemplating whether, had we not decided to live together and gone ahead and had children – especially as quickly as we did – if we would still be “a couple”. I think that we probably would be. Is that a sad or heart-warming fact to recognise? I do not know.

I don’t in any way regret us having our two children – they are beautiful and a blessing for us both – even though I already had two kids from my previous marriage and was not hankering after more. My “wife” stated that she wanted five at the time, but I knew that she would change her mind after the first child was born, and our second was an accident (he still is one at times).

At the time I realised that I would either have to take on “the whole package”, her complete (then) ideal, or I could not have her at all. I could not just selectively have her, but exclude her desire for children. And I certainly wanted her; still do.

I did not shirk away as many a man at a similar stage in life might have done, leaving her behind to later label me as yet another “Mr Bastard” or “Mr Non-Commitment” from her past.

Last Saturday night I “let her off the leash” that she believes I have her held by. She spent the evening reminiscing with a past work related friend over distant memories and she felt that she was already back to her “old self”. The friend thought that she “had not changed” from the “Ms Pre-Wife” of old. But 8 years cannot be swept under the carpet. She will never be exactly the same as she was.

She came back quite radiant, even though she had driven through the night and a rainstorm to get home; and I was worrying for her. A couple of gin and tonics (out of character for her, as she does not normally drink) might have had something to do with it.

Do I not also have the old “ME” lurking inside that she/I can rediscover too? Why does she not bother to look, to try? Maybe reminiscing about the (good) old times might help there too? I’ll even dust off the gin bottle.