Last House on the Block
Our last day in the old house. I think I just saw Holden crawl. He's been doing this wounded solider thing of late, where like a fallen gunner behind German lines, he drags himself by his incredibly strong upper body (he is my boy, after all). He always makes for the cords. Kid fucking loves cords (takes after Glue). I thought (foolishly) that as he got older my life would be easier. Can't remember why a baby who slept 20 hours a day and didn't move was such a burden, but I long for the days when my son was, essentially, a pillow who shat. Kid don't stop moving now, wriggling and worming, and now apparently crawling. And our new house has stairs. Lots of stairs. Jesus, what have I done?
We also have the new heavy bag already installed. Went to work on it yesterday while the carpets got cleaned. My reaction time is a little slow, sure, and can't really drive with the right hip, but I'm serious about starting to fight again. I'm running a marathon a week (not in a row!). No reason not to. Nothing big, y'know, locally.
That's it, Jimmy. Time to hit the gym and start building some hurting bombs.