Two Weeks Later: A Homecoming Post

And finally, a real Homecoming Post.

First. In what can only be considered Classic Army Style, our Homecoming was actually scheduled for the day before the one it actually occurred on. The ceremony was supposed to be around 3 p.m. the first time. My mother in law and myself were reveling in our good fortune, as this timing was perfect for parties such as ours which included a few members who still take regular naps. Not to early, not too late, and after nap time. Who could ask for anything more!

And then. The plane broke. In Ireland.

We woke up the morning we thought was the day of the ceremony, called the hotline and we were informed that not only was the ceremony NOT happening that day they couldn't actually even tell us what day it WOULD be happening. You know. Cause they didn't know how long it would take to fix the plane. Waking the kids up that morning was like having to tell them "Hey Kids! remember how it was going to be Christmas today?? Well NEVERMIND." They took it.....better than I imagined they would.

Fortunately it didn't take too terribly long, and they were on their way again. But the ceremony time then became 6:30 A.M. the following day.

This. Is. Early.

Not really terribly early to wake up, but terribly early to have to be up, dressed and coercing 4 other people that it is a good time to be up, get dressed, and be somewhere. I got up at 2 a.m. (like I slept anyways) The kids got up at 3, and we were out the door by 3:45 a.m. to get to the events center where the ceremony was being held at the time the doors opened (4:30 a.m. What can I say, I wanted a good seat!)

I must be lucky or have good karma because I was also able to coerce (with minimal begging. Actually, she was totally on board months in advance, cause she rocks like that!) a wonderful photographer friend of mine to come take pictures. This meant i was able to really just be in the experience, instead of worrying about trying to capture it. Not to mention the fact that her pictures are always ten million times better than mine. She was there at 4:30 in the morning, and her presence was priceless.


(Picture of Baby Man with our sign.....soooooo not happening!)



(But it was the coolest sign EVER. Designed by Edo, assembled by Grandma. She's a preschool teacher, projects are her thing. Plus, I would've made the letters all crookedy. It does say "CPT. Our Last Name" at the top too, I just cropped that part out. You know, internet privacy and all.)

Then we got down to the real business of waiting. There was a bounce house, and an area with some mats and small toddler type toys. There was some food, bagels, soda, popcorn.


(Edo went in the bounce house....and didn't come out for 2 hours. I think he senses his bounce house days are limited.)


(Popcorn and soda at 5 A.M. ?!?!? RADICAL!)

There was a soldier in charge of keeping us/the kids entertained. She did an amazing job, she had some serious energy! There was limbo and hoola-hooping. She did other games too like duck duck goose, and lots of random dancing.


(Yes, Bug, you should definitely limbo lower. That bar is like way too close to your head. Oh wait. No it isn't.)


(The hula-hooping quickly devolved in to tears when she put down the purple one, and some other kid grabbed it and gave her a yellow one. Tragedy.)

(Did you know you can cry and hula-hoop at the same time? Neither did I!)

Then there were the delays. We don't have any clue what the delays were, all I know is that when 6:30 rolled around....there were no soldiers. I was, however, asked to be interviewed on Live Television. The key I believe was having the coolest sign ever, and a flock of adorable children.


(And my legs looking totally amazing in that dress probably didn't hurt matters either. Just sayin'. :) I looked H-O-T for my soldier!)

The newsman was the first person to officially acknowledge the delay by asking me "So, you've waited all year to see your soldier, and now there is this delay. How does that make you feel?" My response was something like "Well, yeah. I mean we have waited this long I don't suppose another 15 minutes will hurt anything!" He laughed, and said "Can you describe how you are feeling, right now? What it feels like to be here?" My response was something like "It's really indescribable. It doesn't seem real. But mostly it's exciting. Really, really exciting!"

(At least, that's how I think it happened. Being on TV makes a person nervous. I might have said "Purple elephants make yellow pumpkins!" But I meant to say the first thing, and I certainly hope I did.)

That 15 minutes turned in to another hour.

Of waiting.


And waiting.


And waiting.....


I kept thinking to myself that I couldn't believe we were really here. Even with the extra waiting, he was GOING to come through those doors. We were GOING to see him. We were GOING to scream and shout at the top of our lungs and we were GOING to get that long awaited hug and kiss. It felt so surreal to be in a moment you have waited so long for. I tried to cherish the waiting, and all those emotions even while admittedly desperately wishing they would get on with it already.

It's complicated.




When the soldier who had done all the entertaining finally told us that our soldiers were NEARLY OUTSIDE, everyone. Went. Nuts.





In a move of unusual emotional cruelty, they played "God Bless The U.S.A." by Lee Greenwood. (You know the one...."And I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free. And I won't forget the men who died, and gave that right to me." Etc. As if we weren't all on the verge of tears already. Thanks, music guy.)

And then. They were there.






They marched in to some other song, which I couldn't even tell you because we were too busy doing this:




And the moment when we actually saw him. Our soldier, in that sea of camo.




(Looking at the picture, he is fourth from the leeeeeeeeeeft!!!)

The National Anthem was sung.


(My sweet, sweet boy closed his eyes and sang quietly along.)

They sang the Army Song.

And then. Finally. "DISMISSED!"


(For weeks there had been an ongoing discussion about the "first hug." Bug had clearly staked her claim, and I spent a great deal of time explaining to my older boys how important this was. She is, after all, only 4 years old. They are bigger, older, wiser. They understood that if one of them made the critical error of stepping between this girl and her Daddy, the consequences for all of us would be an epic meltdown tantrum the likes of which have never been seen. Luckily, everyone agreed and when the big moment came there was nothing but smiles. And a few happy tears.)



(And they did jump in about 0.2 seconds after)

Watching them welcome home their Daddy was one of the best moments of my entire life. And eventually, I even got a hug and kiss as well.








(I love this picture because it totally captures the dreamy, unreal feeling. "Am I kissing you?? For real?? I AM!!")

Baby Man seemed to recognize both Daddy's face and his voice, and seemed very interested in the fact that the Computer Screen Guy was now 3 dimentional.




And it there were more Beautiful. Wonderful. All So Very Good moments.




(Pudah is noticeably absent from the last photos, he was running towards the door "Can we leave now? Can we go now? LET'S GO!!" I think he was worried if we hung around too long they might change their minds and make Daddy go back.)

By 8 a.m. we were on our way home. A very happy, very exhausted, very complete Family.



***All photos are courtesy of my friend the truly amazing Angela over at Once Upon...Photography. I can never thank her enough for capturing these moments for my family! If you need a photographer, she's your gal!****