It hit me.

It hit me on the way home in the car today.
I'm going to go meet my son.
Eight days.
I'm driving down the road ... the highway, actually ... and was listening to the radio when I suddenly started tearing up.
I'm sure that the other drivers on the road thought I was insane.
I had to try to compose myself while I was ordering from the drive-thru at the local BK.
Eight days until we leave for Russia.
Eleven days (or there abouts) until I hold my baby.

And here I go crying again.
But for the best reasons in the world.
Happiness.