The Flood is Over…I think.

As you may have heard…my son Alex has been returned to the clutches…er….bosom of his family (mom) and is now readjusting to normal (crazy, non-mission, daycare, chicken, cat, siblings) life.

So am I.

I may have cried (sobbed) a little (a LOT) over the last week.

I sort of cried on the way to the airport.

I may have shed some tears when Blair saw him and gave me the thumbs up. (I may have just teared up a little remembering that part)

I might have grabbed that boy and kissed him and squeezed him tightly and cried some more. The words, “My BABY!” might have been uttered by me…

I cried when we dropped him off at the Stake Presidents office to report on his mission.

I cried when he came back and we fed him dinner.

I cried when he went to bed.

I cried when he got up.

I cried when we unpacked his stuff from storage.

I cried when I realized he had no clothes and would need an entire wardrobe.

I cried when he spoke in church.

I cried when his friends came over.

I have teared up every single time anyone asks me how he is or how I am.

Sigh.

That’s a freaking lot of crying for me.

I bawled my eyes out when I read Carrie’s post from yesterday.

Good thing we just bought the monster sized Kleenex pack from Costco. I thought it was for cold season.

Turns out, it was for that season in life where your oldest child comes home after two long years and it turns out he, and everyone else, thinks he’s a man.

Except for me. I’m tearing up now…

I’m happy my baby is home.