I'm in.

Crossed the border. Legally. I have a one year visitor's visa while we wait for my permanent residence application to go through. I can't work. I can't go to school. I can't have free health care. But I can live with my family. That's good enough. That is what we expected, after all.

It feels good. It's been a long time coming. Josh has been working on this immigration as a part time job for a good 10 months now. Sell a house, move, submit applications, apply for jobs, interview, move again, drive. We're finally here. It feels good.

Oh, at the border Toby slunk below the counter and said quietly, "He doesn't allow five-year-olds." The man had stated casually that I couldn't have a visitor's visa for five years. I don't think Toby was really worried.

Alicia is amazingly glad to be back with her dad, but beyond that it's hard to know what she thinks. Over the past few days, Toby gave every indication of understanding the process we were in the midst of and seemed to be fine with it. Alicia sort of knew but mostly just couldn't grasp it. Yesterday (in MN) in the car she said, "Which house are we going to now? Why?" And playing with dolls, 'Dada, I love you.' to which the dada responded, 'I don't want to be with you.' Upon arriving at the Minneapolis airport, Alicia asked, "Where's Dada?" multiple times. She knew Dada was going to be at the airport, but forgot about having to do the flying part first.

So yeah, we're very happy to be together again. I'm sure I'm going to be the last one of us for whom this feels normal.