My Homecoming King: A Photo Essay

"Reunited" is not to be confused with "reintegration." There's so much to new-learn or re-learn about each other - how to work the washer and dryer, what Jake's current favorite sandwich is, Corey's new slang. This is not about reintegration. This is about the day (Saturday) that we picked the paterfamilias up from the designated armory and brought him (and three duffles, two packpacks and a computer bag) home for good. 

That morning was a little stressful because the bus left Camp Shelby with the soldiers an hour or more earlier than scheduled, so we all had to get up earlier and get dressed quicker and we made it to the armory to wave our signs with about ten minutes to spare.

You can't tell, but mine was glittered.

When he got off the bus, walking up to greet us.

I let the kids hug first. I'm selfless like that. And I don't want anybody rushing me to move on when it's my turn, like they stand at the door and try to hurry you out of the bathroom. This is Landen.

And Jake.

*WARNING: Public Display of Affection Following*

I had the bestest surprise in tow. Corey's younger brother Zack asked if he and his wife Brittany could come over from Florida and surprise Corey when we picked him up. I thought it was amazing that he asked instead of declared and knew that Corey would be so floored that they made the trip. We got his mama to come too. They drove all night and arrived at my house at 4:30 Saturday morning, napped a little and stood out in the cold with me waiting on the bus.

I know what it feels like to be a wife seeing your husband step off a bus into safety at the end of a year-long absence. I imagine seeing your son home safely and reunited with his wife and children is just as satisfying!

Brittany is a TROOPER and took one for the family in a big way. She's 32 weeks pregnant with a baby girl and endured eight hours in a car to come see her brother-in-law. She's also one of those people who shows no signs of pregnancy from the back. I have to make a concerted effort not to be mad at her for that.

So, what does one do with a little freedom and the comforts of home and kin? Your first day, you might have The Grumpy, be easily irritated and out of sorts. This could also be because you got schnockered with your buddies and did not sleep the night before.

You may take a shower and put on your favorite t-shirt to play some Guitar Hero with your kids and brother.

You may, for some reason your wife does not understand, CHOOSE to eat ramen noodles for lunch. 

You will definitely drink beer at whatever time of day the mood strikes you. Apparently Blue Moon is the ideal compliment to ramen noodles. 

You may wonder why your kids have two Batmobiles or how playing with your toys on the floor causes one to put their bedskirt all askew (that's actually probably me). Upon seeing you, your anxious older son may instantly stop absentmindedly rubbing his lip raw and being angry with his stepmother for no apparent reason.

Your youngest son may never stop talking unless he's using the bathroom, eating or sleeping. And you may deposit all the random items you encounter during the day on your dining room table, much to the chagrin of your wife. 

Your dog might roll himself up in your poncho liner and take long naps that way. 

You may demand your niece come over for a sleepover so all 70-pounds of her can curl up in the bed between you and your wife. It would be unacceptable for her to sleep anywhere else. 

So we're on Day Five and The Grumpy went away. We went to the boys' Christmas parties, finished their Christmas shopping, bought Corey a new car and made chili. We're still sorting through where to store all the extra stuff. 

We're all exhausted. It is 8:52 PM. Bedtime for the boys on non-school nights is 9 PM. It's been quiet upstairs for a while, and when Corey went up to their room to check, he found that the boys had put their pajamas on and put themselves to bed. 

.....