Sorry for the lack of abreast keeping of you all in regards to myself and all my glory. No, I did not contract a horrifying disease and no, I also did not save the universe from an angry mob of vagabond tree people. I’ve been at home.

I would like to start  by saying that my son is the best thing ever. He is better than any children you may, or currently do, have. Period. He’s a gigantic pain in my ass sometimes, but he wouldn’t be doing his job if her weren’t, now, would he? He’s also very smart and strong for a baby. He’s been holding  his stupid little head up since the day he was born, he gives me faces when I do dumb shit, he smiles at me when he sees me.

I thought coming home this time would be easier than it was coming back from Iraq. The general environment was much more similar and relaxed than being stuck in the middle of a trash heap of a desert. Time away from home is still time away from home.

I felt like I missed too much this time around. My son’s birth and the first 3 months of his life. I know he won’t remember me being gone, but I will, and it sucks. My counter to this? Dive right into. I’ve fully enmeshed myself in my beautiful little family and it feels great. There’s so much that I get to look forward to when I come home everyday and getting up every few hours to fill a bottle or change a diaper are just two of them. Good lord how I love to change diapers… It’s like Christmas every four to five hours!

More to come…