Hey, what's going on, guys? Welcome back to another episode of preaching to the choir.

The lull. What a strange word. L-U-L. The lull in the gunfight. I legitimately mean

lull and gunfight. I could correlate this easily to my circumstance where I was in a intense fight

for my life, for the security and sanctity of the relationship between me and my children,

alarmingly like many people will go through, whether a divorce,

whether a toxic circumstance, a lot of people go through this in their lifetime. My mom went

through this. When I sit back and I enjoy moments like yesterday where we played out in the snow with the kids and brought them inside and set up tents in my studio, which is why I'm doing this here in my master bedroom.

It's a mess.

It's complete chaos.

But no way would I rather have it than being completely immersed in my children's lives.

But it feels weird.

It feels strange. It feels clumsy and awkward.

How do you go from not having your children at all and fighting for them in a court of law to just getting back to it?

It elicits a lot of emotions as well.

I don't want to derail this conversation with those emotions, but it does.

Here's a clear example.

My son fell on his butt out of the trampoline.

That's 10 feet from me.

Yes, I have a trampoline in my master bedroom.

When he fell on his butt, I was concerned.

Because the first thing I thought,

oh my gosh, you hurt himself.

...