I miss kids

The other day on the phone, I heard The Chaplain talking to one of his children, and something inside me snapped. Well, more of a guitar string-like pluck than a harsh bone snapping, but a distinct and audible sound none the less.

I miss kids.

I miss Jacinta's morning cuddles (though I was slightly concerned by the caption that went with this photo originally that said I need my afternoon gin as much as morning cuddles. It was a somewhat harder time... )

I am starting to think I might be mentally ready to have a child but as I missing a few vital ingredients, the old woman who lived in a shoe in Eastern Europe with many orphans and cats might have to suffice. At least one will be called Antonov...

On November 1st, I lived the day in silence, carrying with me that strange dull weight you carry when no one knows you are carrying it. There is a little girl out there I shall never see, she shall never know me, but I love her. It's a situationI can't even to begin to explain through this medium. I wrote so much that day, choked with emotion for every slow movement of the clock. It was her birthday. The only present I could think to give her, that I could ever give her, was her father. Happy birthday princess.