Coming Home

=I know, I am the world's worst blogger, sorry=

So the wife and child have been up in Seattle for the past 12 days helping out "Gram" (the wife's mom) after her shoulder surgery.

The weather here today in SD is picture perfect - the kind that makes people move here on a whim.

I have the windows open and itunes singing a playlist I call "good stuff".

When the wife and I were first married, I used to lay in bed and watch her sleep. I would time my breaths with hers so that as she exhaled, I would inhale and we would breathe each other in.

Now that I am a father with a daughter, I want intimacy with my little girl on that level. Those of you who have children, you know that place on their neck, just under the jawbone, where you can bury your face and breathe in their scent?

Oh, sure, you make growling or snuffling noises just to get them to allow you to do it and giggle all the while, but what you are after is their sweet scent because you know that if you don't breathe them in, you will suffocate. For a father, it is a matter of survival.

I am looking forward to breathing free again this evening . . . .

My girls are coming home.

I'm no good without them.