Today is my first Father’s Day. Although our baby girl isn’t born yet, I absolutely know I am a dad. It’s a complicated emotion to explain in something as crude as a blog, but those of you who are fathers know exactly what I am talking about. I love it.

I am writing this from lovely San Diego, California. In years past, this weekend has marked the beginning of two months of fun at the beach. But this year Candyce and I decided to stay in Phoenix to get our lives ready for the baby. It’s our first child, and we want to be sure to get this right.

I am infinitely grateful for my father’s help in remodeling my home. He drove across the country in September of last year with my brother to kick off the whole project. Then he came back again around Christmas and helped me make more progress. Then during his visit last week, Dad helped me get very close to finishing the project. There is still some minor touches to complete with lighting, the bead board ceiling, and some drywall repair, but the major work is complete. Dad’s the man. He’s such a good father.

Dad flew back to Georgia on Thursday the same time as Candyce and I came out here to San Diego. I am actually really excited to go back to Phoenix so I can admire the finished product. I actually live in a nice house now. I doubt a newborn baby will appreciate it in September, but at least there will be no dust or scary-as-hell power tool noises haunting her first months on earth. Instead, she’ll listen to Coldplay, Matt Maher, Postal Service, and maybe the PG version of Lil Wayne’s new album.

I am writing this while I watch the final day of the U.S. Open in Torry Pines. We went to Open yesterday. I imagine I’ll write more about it later this week.