Jack Is Home!!

I noticed I have 45 minutes and a desire to write today, so I figured it was time to mention that my brother Jack is back from his two year LDS mission to Bolivia.  As a mom of 3, time is measured in clothes sizes and milestones, and two years can fly by extraordinarily quickly.  Jack is back, and in a way it seems like Jack was never gone.

I think we missed him more in the 24 hours leading up to his arrival than we did the rest of the time.  Uncle Jack was the hot topic of conversation in our house, and I actually had to ban asking questions about when he would get back.  We had planned to stay up late and meet him at the airport when his 11:00 pm flight arrived.  I wasn't too disappointed to hear he had been delayed and would not arrive until 11:30 am on Saturday.  I knew we'd have much better attitudes with a full night's sleep!

Grandma and Grandpa Casdorph came over a bit early Saturday morning.  Grandpa to help with some electrical in the basement, and Grandma to help make signs. We left the airport at 11:00 with the intent to limit the amount of time the 5 nieces and nephews would have to spend waiting.  Which would have worked out really well if his flight hadn't been delayed until 12:36.  Realizing Alex had forgotten his glasses, Kirk offered to go on a glasses and pizza run so we could feed the pizza my parents had brought for Jack to the kids.  (When my mom asked Jack who he'd like to have at the airport, he had indicated little concern over who came but that he would really like it if my mom brought a pizza.)  Grandpa supplemented the pizza with treats, and we were able to keep the kids relatively happy during the long wait.

Once we lined the kids up with their signs, they got really excited.  That annoying kind of excited that results in them getting their signs taken away.  Luckily, they earned them back so Jack could see them proudly displaying, "WELCOME BACK, UNCLE JACK," the rhyme of which Adam was so proud, "JAK, HOW WHAS YORE MESHN?" which Alex had clearly made by himself, and "A H IIIIII B HH" carefully stenciled at random, which I labeled with Dylan's name in an upper corner.  I really don't even think he saw the signs before they mobbed him, though.

His reception wasn't quite as warm from the babies who don't know him.  (Jack left with just three nephews and came back with 5 nephews and a niece.)

All that was left to do was satiate everyone's curiosity about a few facts:

And it seemed to pretty much be a draw in both cases.

I didn't take any pictures at his homecoming open house, but I do want to remember the advice a member of his ward shared with him.

"The first week back, you'll think, 'My family is going to Hell.'
The second week, you'll think, 'My friends are going to Hell.'
The third week, you'll think, 'What the hell, I'm going with them.'"

After which, she apparently paused thoughtfully and told him,
"You've got two weeks."