Easter didn't start out so great for me. I had to work, which is just wrong. I was raised by a generation that was already realizing some people have to work on Sundays. I mean, at the very least - we ate at restaurants on Sunday, thereby reveling in the fact that some people had to work. But still, I also always went to church. AL-ways. My work schedule is a long story I'm not really telling here, but suffice it to say, I didn't want to be at home working yesterday. I wanted to be in a church building singing resurrection songs. Then, on top of this, there was the Easter bunny saga.
Who knew my children even believed in the Easter bunny? I thought it was one of those things you play along with but don't actually believe. Like the tooth fairy. Although don't get me started on the last time I spewed hatred at that poor mythical character. But remembering to trade out a bloody tooth under your child's pillow and replace it with money is just too much to ask of us poor exhausted parents. So anyway, they do still believe apparently and they talked all about it with each other only TWO days ago, describing in detail the two things they expected from him, which I don't think can even be found in this town. So in the morning they found their baskets and candy and replacement gift with appropriate delight. But they can't stop talking about the things they had wished for and how perhaps they can save up for them. I haven't yet heard any theories as to why the bunny robbed them, and they never actually fussed, but still. This is why I hate the Easter bunny. On a normal day, like say, a Tuesday or something, there's all kinds of magic surrounding them. Every time I have remembered to buy their favorite snack. The time Drew asked me to pray that he would find his digital pirates clock from McDonalds, and then after kissing him goodnight, I DID find it and brought it to him, and heard John say, "Mama's great isn't she?" Oh for Tuesdays! When ordinary miracles are so easy to find. But believing the Easter bunny will somehow know that you wanted the Lord of the Rings video game in time to actually find it and buy it and that somehow he's going to get it into your house only two days after you said this out loud to your mother? I can't produce that kind of magic!
And as long as I'm complaining, who moved Easter up this year? It was snowing here. SNOWING. Little girls in white dresses froze to death. It was ridiculous.
Fortunately, Michael's mother totally came through for us, as she always does. She is so good at holidays. She had the huge hunt, the actual vinegar in water egg-coloring, gifts and candy, a hot, delicious meal, and to top it off - she had church. The grandchildren each read portions of the bible and she talked with them about the real reason we celebrate. If only Sandi Patti had been there to sing "Was it a morning like this?", I think I would have come full circle from grouchy to glorious.
As it is, I came half circle, and a good night's sleep got me the rest of the way. I'm glad it's Monday now, that I'm two days into my work week, that He's risen, and that it's no longer snowing. I'm glad there are endless possibilities for magic again and that nobody is expecting them to come from an omnicient rabbit with candy and eggs. And the sun is actually shining, so I do wonder if it was a morning like this. Did it sing? Did the earth rejoice to feel you again? Man, I love that line.
4 comments:
I was singing that song yesterday in my head, too, while looking at the snow, and thinking - no, it surely wasn't like this! My daughters were among the frozen, but they were happily oblivious. New shoes, afterall, who feels the wind?
On disappointing your children: I'm pretty sure this may be the death of me as a parent! Who knew things were actually EASIER when they were in constant need of feeding, changing, burping, or holding? Now I have to live up to their expectations? It is too much.
As an example, yesterday after I dutifully dressed the girls in white, pulled tights snuggly into place, brushed hair to exacting standards, and found just the right pink jackets, Ada sat demurely on the chair waiting for her ride to Sunday School and said, "What are you going to wear, Mom?"
I flashed to my closet that is full of work attire and stay-home-studying t-shirts. Nothing to at all compare to the frilly glory that belongs to this day.
"I'm not sure yet."
"Well, just make sure it looks beautiful on you!"
And then she skipped out the door while I stood there in my pajamas and disheveled hair with Macy on my hip.
Luckily, when we met up again at church (and me in my black pants!), she seemed perfectly content. She was much more interested in showing me her Jesus cut-out that moved up a slit in the paper and into the horizon. So, maybe it was a morning like this after all.
And you did look beautiful to boot, Felic. :-)
I loved this post, Seren! It had me smirking and smiling like crazy! Parenting is such a hilarious and stressful, and glorious occupation. My kids are so funny about the mythical characters. Samantha wants to believe, but has moved on into preteenness and just can't manage it any longer, although she does a good job of playing along for the sibling's sakes. Cristofer is so darn literal and black and white and yet he loves fantasy. You never know where is will be coming from, telling stories of what fairy land is like or sternly reprimanding his little brother that Santa is really just mom and dad. Aria is following in her sister's foot steps way too soon/quickly and sadly has been dissapointed too many times by the Tooth Fairy. Four kids losing several teeth all at once really is waaay tooo much to ask of exhausted parents!!! I have gotten pretty good at sneaking upstairs in the morning when they aren't looking and then suggesting that they take a second look. He,he.
No dresses this year. I didn't really miss it though because of the cold weather, plus my girls just hate tights right now. So we dressed in pastels and jeans.
I kept wondering about doing something "churchy" with the kids, but for some reason this year it seemed like such a huge story to try to condense into something that the kids could understand in a short lesson or story or project. We prayed with our friends and thanked Him together for his death and life and enjoyed each other and the day. Then we all ate way too much candy! :-)
Amy B., I love your simplicity. At ages 20, 18, and 12, my children are past the point of believing in Santa, the Tooth Fairy, or the Easter Bunny. We had fun with all those myths when they were younger. I'm just glad they believe in Jesus and gladly joined in our Easter celebration at church!
And yes, parenthood is the most exhausting yet gratifying job we'll ever have!
Pam S. aka Catgirl
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