And for once I was SuperMom

Monday, April 6, 2015

Yesterday was Easter

Yesterday was Easter.
I didn't post yesterday.  I was too busy just being present.
I don't have any fantastic photos.  I was too busy just being present.

We rose early, before sunrise.  We drove to an outcropping of rock that overlooks the Atlantic, and two churches met and worshiped God for the miracle of His son.  I wish I could say the service was lovely.  It was not earth shattering.  I was largely distracted by hefting a thirty six pound five year old off the ground.  Standing, wrapped in a pink fleece blanket, and looking at the backsides of adults didn't seem particularly worshipful to her.
Can't say that I blame her.
The service was different, though.  A simple change of plans.  Instead of in church we meet outside and gazed at his creation.  Instead of a comfortable nine o'clock time, we met at daybreak.
I can get behind that.
The weather was cold.  We were nipped and chilled.  And maybe a bit more alive than inside the safe walls of a church?
But the sun showed up; bright pink, bright orange, and lovely.
My first east coast sunrise.

Afterwards we all made our way to the church building and enjoyed a pancake breakfast.  Pancakes came out slowly, cooked quickly to feed so many hungry and waiting mouths.  Parents waited, fed children first, hosts waited, fed guests first.  No one complained.  This was Easter after all.  We eventually all left full and warmed up.  Sharing this day with our family that we picked, eating with people that we've chosen to do life alongside.  Every church service should start with a meal.

We were home by eight in the morning.  We took our time, played with our kids.  Mid morning we hid eggs while the girls were distracted upstairs.
No one ever tells you that watching and hiding is more fun than doing.

One moment made me rethink it all; the first time my eldest ever did an egg hunt, she didn't seem to get it.  She would refuse the eggs that she didn't like, put them back and look for the 'right' ones.  She didn't end up with very many, I was worried she would be distraught when she saw how little she had compared to the kids that had gone full boar.  She wasn't bothered.  This year?  She was cutthroat.  Cutting her sister off, shaking with the urgency of getting as many as possible.  I thought, 'are we just teaching greed?'
Maybe we are.

Their baskets were simple, a few chocolate eggs, and a paper carrot filled with jelly beans.  And a craft; a ceramic bunny to paint.  They were so excited to paint those little bunnies.  That I did not expect.

A lunch of deviled eggs and salad.  The girls were so excited to peel the eggs that we had dyed earlier in the week.  That I did not expect.

I took my time cooking scalloped sweet potatoes and bacon wrapped green beans.  Celebratory food, a little more butter, a little more sugar than normal.
We headed over to a friend's house and ate and drank more than any one person should in one day.  The few of us who don't have family in the area.
This is the only thing that rings disappointing to me.  This makes me feel a bit like the leftovers.  That my family is gathering on one coast and we are here.  Our holidays with our girls have come to feel too quiet.  I miss the jokes my brothers would sling at me.  I miss the fussing that any of my parents would do over me.  I miss the extra hands to make work light.  I miss the extra mouths to eat the food, and celebrate a little too much butter and a little too much sugar.

The day was quiet, thoughtful, celebratory, out of the ordinary, but not over the top.  No stress.  No panic.  No unrealized Pinterest moments, ruined by children, being, you know, children.  I missed my family.  But I dug deeper into some good friendships.  My children got to do things they don't normally, and got to eat an inordinate amount of sweets.
So did I for that matter.

Saturday, April 4, 2015


Easter usually sneaks up on me.
Um, didn't you give up something for Lent?
Yes, but Lent is so long...
I seem to remember other posts about holidays sneaking up on you.
Look, I need due dates.  How do you think I got through school?
Um, the date of the holiday is a due date.
I mean, I need exact assignments.
Buy stuff for your kids?
Look, okay I just was not on the ball this year.
You're never on the ball?
I was never any good at sports....

Easter usually does sneak up on me.  Maybe it's that lack of spring flavored lattes at Starbucks.  Or that there are no radio stations that switch over to playing Easter music for six weeks.  This has always seemed a little unbalanced to me.  Isn't the death and resurrection of Christ just as miraculous as his birth?  Is it because a birth is more fun than a death?
I can see that.
Maybe we need something to really celebrate in winter.  So our culture turned the beginning of the cold and dark season into a major fanfare, so we would forget what was really about to come.  Easter comes at the advent of a something that is already a celebration.  Spring is a celebration in and of itself.  The warmer temperatures bring relief.  The little crocuses peeking out from the brown ground bring hope.  The nubbly buds on trees astound us that nature knows the turn of the clock better than we do.

Tomorrow is Easter.
There wasn't six weeks of cookie making.  There wasn't six weeks of parties.  There wasn't six weeks of shopping.
All of that preparation gave me a colossal Christmas hangover.  Then the actual day came, I was left with this sense of, 'that was all for this?'
I think we miss the point.
This particular winter has been hard and long.  We still have snow on much of the ground.  Ground that we normally would hide eggs on.  Ground that would normally be bringing forth new life is still frozen.  I didn't bother buying sunny happy expensive Easter dresses this year.  In New England a sundress isn't quite yet appropriate.  We dress in clothes that don't match the weather, pose before bare trees, and declare that it is spring.  I didn't feel like playing this year.

Tomorrow is Easter
There was some quick planning for dinner with friends.  A cake was made.  Eggs were stuffed.  Baskets are filled with candy and toy bunnies.  Coffee is in the pot, ready to be brewed early.
Tomorrow we'll rise earlier than normal, dress warmly, and sing as the sun rises over the Atlantic.
I don't think I'll have a hangover.
I don't think I'll be disappointed in the 'magic' of the day.  I don't think I'll wonder if this was all it was for.
I think it will feel just right.