The man himself is home again. It's a wonder I didn't bite anyone's head off on Friday, June 11, because I woke up far earlier than I ever should (have?) to go into work before the sun was up to get some stuff done before I picked up my lover to witness the return of my wee brother. And if you think I did bite off your head that day, I'll thank you to not mention it in the comment box.
I was so nervous that something would happen and I'd miss his arrival. Every car that entered the John Wayne short term parking zone ahead of us was a threat to the moment I'd been waiting for these dos anos. We ended up making it free and clear, and I even had time to gain favor in the eyes of my chubby 19 month-old niece by introducing her to the purple killer whale shaped balloon I brought. It was my mother who was running late, and I'll never forget the sight of her, at an all-out sprint, streaming through the airport, hair bouncing, flouncing, and blowing with her unparalleled speed. What a mother won't do to see her baby boy again.
I think the people who stood in front of Cameron as he floated down the escalator were given quite the fright/show of their lives. We squealed, we ran, we pounced, we hugged, I wish I'd done my hair, because there are a lot of pictures that were taken that I just can't support in the vanity department. But it was a great Eaton family moment, one I'll never forget.
Just for the record, I was right about a few things, wrong about one: my older niece was shy, my nephew did tackle, my younger niece was like, "Huh? Who wants to go try to sneak onto the baggage claim thingies with me??" Sarah did NOT get to him first -- I guess my parents had worked out a deal that they'd get the first hugs. Anyway, after we sort of sat there and marveled, we went home to begin what was a very fun and very exhausting weekend.
I never realized how quiet our house is until it wasn't quiet anymore. I usually don't see our house during the daylight hours, and when I'm in it the only conversationalists/humans are obviously Jeffman and myself. Thursday night the blessed Jexies came rollin in in their swagger wagon from the desert, and then add in Sarah and Harry (your own personal jungle gym and barrel of monkeys) plus Merdy and Jim-a-Lim (barrel of monkeys and a bag of chips) plus the guest of honor of the weekend Cam, and it was chaos and din forever after. BUT there's no other reason(s) I'd rather have to struggle to hear myself think.
We went through plural gallons of milk (Jeff and I make an effort to get through a liter before it grows chunks), loaves of bread slices, a jar filled up with M&Ms and red Swedish Fish (a combo that just sort of happened that ended up being extremely edible), and did laundry loadS with attitude.
We went to the water park at Lladro Ranch, and I'm not sure who was more excited, the kids or Harry. Scratch that, I AM sure who was more excited -- Harry, closely followed by Jubees.
I consistently bribed my younger niece with candy in exchange for affection and attention.
She makes that face when she's really happy. Really!
"M&M for you, M&M for me."
By Tuesday morning we were good friends and she even said in her slurpy voice through her binky/pacifier/"deedee" in our family, "Cool!" in reference to the beads on my shirt as I was about to leave for work.
It was all really, really awesome.
The best part is Cameron is still here. He's home and re-learning English and re-discovering what it is to be eating lots of crap. We love you, Cam, thanks for coming home to us in 1 piece.