Tickle, Cook, Breathe

Days like this I wonder if Sam & Lily's life will be defined in the same way my life is defined. Maybe that is saying it too simply...I know my life is defined by many things, but it seems to be divided into chunks. The farther back I look, the more general those chunks become - yesterday Sam helped to feed Lily, in the last month we went to three birthday parties, in the last year we had a perfect baby girl, etc...
The problem is, I look back and most of the things that come to mind are things I'd rather forget. I remember a time before Rita, before the tsunami, the earthquake, Columbine. Before Thurman, Oklahoma City, Challenger... before the unibomber, before that afternoon in 1986, before BTK, before waking up in a crumpled volvo, before September 11th, before today.
In many ways, my life is charmed, I know. I remember that when I come home to the kids. I walk in the door, or into their classrooms, and for a second everything disappears. In that moment (before I have to carry Sam's wet shoes or change Lily's diaper) everything is warm, perfect... easy.
..and then I forget again. I get so wrapped up some days moving from one thing to the next - rushing out the door and rushing back in, rushing to finish my work and rushing to get them to bed, and even rushing down to the couch so I can sit in the quiet for that extra minute before I fall asleep - that some days I hit a bump and get so completely thrown off course I can't recover. What can you do...
I end up moving on... sometimes sooner than others... and the rush comes back into focus. Priorities - Raise the kids, love my wife, make some money, be thankful for what I have, rinse, repeat tomorrow. Luxuries - Tickle someone for at least one solid minute every day. Be the first person in the kitchen so I can have a moment by myself in front of the ovens when they are a blank slate, full of promise. Breathe in when I wake up, out when I go to bed, and occasionally in the middle somewhere.
Still left with these scars though. Some days I stop to look back and see Thurman, Jules, lives changed by accident, nature or politics - and the memories are like bookmarks or worn pages that my book just opens to when I set it down. odd.
In my head this started out to be a lighthearted first post... got a little off track it seems. In the grand scheme of things, today wasn't a tragedy on any grand scale. More of a shift in direction. One of those days that makes you snap out of the rush... focus on things...
kids, wife, be thankful.
tickle, cook, breathe.