My house...my home.
This week, I've been a bachelor. My wife and girls are down in Ohio and I'm left alone at home by my lonesome. In some ways, I look forward to the time to spend with myself. In other ways, being by myself is quite dangerous due to the fact that I am a person in desperate need of my wife's mothering. I don't keep schedule well. I don't manage my life and budget my time and plan my day well apart from her task-oriented heart. She holds a person like me together. He questions throughout the day are like gaurdrails for my drunk heart. I like to take things as the come, which has its merit to some degree, but there are so many things about life that render that philosophy idotic and inane. I need a good level-headed boss, and my wife is the most tenderhearted taskmaster a guy could ever want.
I miss her hug at the end of the day. I miss her questions of how my day went and her probing questions that dig deeper into my short answers. I miss laying in bed and downloading emotions and perceptions. I miss talking about our daughters together and the good and bad trends that are surfacing each and every hour of their existance. I miss her stopping by the office on her way to run an errand. I love seeing her come around the corner peeking into my office. I love her occasional phone calls throughout the day to see how something went or to check in with my schedule for the rest of the day. You don't know how centering so many of those things are until they are vacuumed out of your life. I miss her presence, her stablizing affectionate presence.
I miss my little brood of girls as well. I miss their playful chirps around the house. I miss their innocent questions. I miss their badgering me to play with them. I miss listening in on them playing pretend with each other. I miss their snuggling into my arms on the couch. I miss watching them sleep on their beds at night. I miss hearing their footsteps in my office just before they crash around the corner and dive into my arms almost knocking me out of my desk chair. I miss telling them stories at night and reading them books. I miss wrestling on the floor with them and chasing them around the house. I miss watching them ride bikes outside and pushing them on the tire swing. I miss sitting around a campfire and roasting marshmellows. I miss their little "I love you's" through the day. I miss my little princesses.
Being a bachelor is so overrated. Freedom isn't doing what you want. Freedom is being who you are....and who I am is a husband and a father. I love being who I am. And this week, I'm not who I am. I can't wait for their return. I feel like I will come back along with their arrival. I love that my life is so wrapped up in their presence. My identity is part and parcel with their presence. I can't wait for them to come back to our house...only then willit turn back into a home.
I miss her hug at the end of the day. I miss her questions of how my day went and her probing questions that dig deeper into my short answers. I miss laying in bed and downloading emotions and perceptions. I miss talking about our daughters together and the good and bad trends that are surfacing each and every hour of their existance. I miss her stopping by the office on her way to run an errand. I love seeing her come around the corner peeking into my office. I love her occasional phone calls throughout the day to see how something went or to check in with my schedule for the rest of the day. You don't know how centering so many of those things are until they are vacuumed out of your life. I miss her presence, her stablizing affectionate presence.
I miss my little brood of girls as well. I miss their playful chirps around the house. I miss their innocent questions. I miss their badgering me to play with them. I miss listening in on them playing pretend with each other. I miss their snuggling into my arms on the couch. I miss watching them sleep on their beds at night. I miss hearing their footsteps in my office just before they crash around the corner and dive into my arms almost knocking me out of my desk chair. I miss telling them stories at night and reading them books. I miss wrestling on the floor with them and chasing them around the house. I miss watching them ride bikes outside and pushing them on the tire swing. I miss sitting around a campfire and roasting marshmellows. I miss their little "I love you's" through the day. I miss my little princesses.
Being a bachelor is so overrated. Freedom isn't doing what you want. Freedom is being who you are....and who I am is a husband and a father. I love being who I am. And this week, I'm not who I am. I can't wait for their return. I feel like I will come back along with their arrival. I love that my life is so wrapped up in their presence. My identity is part and parcel with their presence. I can't wait for them to come back to our house...only then willit turn back into a home.
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