If you ask me which holiday is my favorite, I will never answer Easter, and I really don’t know why. I mean, Easter has a lot to recommend it: There’s generally an abundance of pork fat and a low Family Obligation Quotient, plus the candy is plentiful. And really, while I’m as excited to celebrate babies being born as much as the next person, it’s quite a bit flashier when the dead rise, no? Me, I’ve given birth to babies. I have never—not once!—resurrected myself or anyone else from the grave. As miracles go, Easter is the clear winner.
Miracles and pork fat; two great tastes that taste great together. [Oh, that’s so sacrilegious. I apologize. But you know the game where you add “… in bed” to every fortune cookie fortune? On Easter we play a similar game where we prepend “Christ is risen” to each and every declarative for similar fun. “Christ is risen, let’s eat!” “Christ is risen, have some chocolate!” “Christ is risen, make Him some coffee already!” etc. We’re serious about our sacrilege around here.]
Anyway, the point is that our Easter was lovely.
It began with Easter baskets, of course, which in recent years has devolved from what was once an egg hunt to now just being “Huh, I think your basket is here somewhere, see if you can find it.” The kids milled around our bedroom until we agreed to get out of bed, and to pass the time Chickadee asked Licorice if she’d seen the Easter Bunny the night before.
“Well, I didn’t SEE anything,” I answered in the high-pitched little voice I use when pretending to be the dog (yes, I know, I’m pitiful), “but I’m pretty sure I heard something weird. It sounded like hippity-hop, hippity-hop!”
Monkey’s eyes went wide with glee while Chickie exclaimed, “Oh NO, I think Hip Hop Harry was in our house last night!” The children dissolved into gales of laughter. Otto and I required an explanation, and apparently Hip Hop Harry is some weird children’s show rapping bear. Oooookay. Why THAT is more horrifying than the thought of some overgrown bunny with a sweet tooth breaking in to hide things, I’m not sure.
Finally we let the kids loose to look for their baskets. Chickadee found them immediately and then flopped down on the couch to pretend she just wasn’t interested. That left Monkey flitting around the house in a blur of excitement for a while, ending with his discovery of the baskets behind the big chair in the corner, which of course yielded the picture of the day—Monkey’s rear as he dangled precariously over the top of the chair to reach the baskets behind. Happy Easter! Here’s the rump of a small boy!
Monkey wolfed down his chocolate bunny while admiring the various small toys he’d received. Chickadee, meanwhile, nibbled on her bunny just a little while surveying her loot. It somehow hadn’t struck me while shopping or even assembling the baskets, but watching her unload I had one of those bittersweet “sunrise, sunset” moments. Where Monkey had Bakugan and a yo-yo, she had fancy mechanical pencils and some nail polish. Where he had his whole bunny polished off in the time it took her to unwrap hers, she wanted to know if I’d please make smoothies for breakfast.
It’s funny, the things that hit me and make me think “She’s growing up.” Apparently the boobs were not enough to tip me off.
We did a bit of cleaning and cooking and then had friends come to dinner. I made rolls (among other things) even though I don’t bake all that much anymore, now that I can’t actually, you know, eat the stuff I bake. But in the “Christ is risen, fill in this blank” game I seem incapable of allowing an Easter where I can’t say, “Christ is risen, AND SO HAVE MY ROLLS!” Plus they make the house smell good.
The food and the company were excellent, and fifteen rounds of dishes and a family stroll around the neighborhood later, the kids were tucked into bed and Otto and I were flopped on the couch remarking that it had been a lovely day. I’m not trying to make light of the miracle of resurrection, you understand. I’m just saying that it’s ALSO a miracle that the children (mostly) remembered their table manners, and that we didn’t run out of teaspoons, and that all of the leftovers fit into the fridge, and that Monkey finished his homework without complaint.
It’s a miracle that everyone got up on time this morning and that an email I sent off to school was answered promptly. There’s a lot of miracles going on, is my point, and while I probably shouldn’t celebrate ALL of them with ham, I’m hoping to celebrate more of them. Amen.
Amen is right :-)
I cant help but think that if everything is as it is taught, that this post will bring about a scene that will go like this:
Years from now, as you are going up the Holy Escalator (Batman!) to the Pearly Gates, and St Peter is waiting patiently in his Bright White Robe and Billowing Beard, He will Look upon you and say ” Ah, Mir! We have been expecting you….. Oh Look! Something Fiery!”
I really enjoy your blog! I’m a lurker but felt like I should tell you. Thanks!
I like your detail about 15 rounds of dishes. We had a small Easter dinner, yet still dishes forever.
Well, your Easter sounds MUCH nicer than mine, with started with a sprained foot and crutches, middled with a big earthquake, and ended with me in bed with Vicodin.
Well, I’m glad you survived the resurrection another year. We had a small family get together and lots of eggs, which apparently just fell outta the clouds according to my 3 year grandson.
Oh, did you forget to the pic of the small rump? Not that I was looking fowarded to that, I’m just sayin’ lol
Yike Aimee! Feel better soon!
Mir, I can’t exactly compare to your household bliss, but I can, for the first year in my life, say I’ve had a family dinner. I got custody of the boy I’d mentioned in several previous comments. Last night was our first official dinner. I nearly cried.
Someday I will have holiday dinners with his girlfriend/wife and children. A million days from now, I’ll sit back and do the sunrise/sunset thing as you’re doing now.
Until all of that comes to pass, I think I’ll have some ham for breakfast.
We had our annual tradition of hiding the easter candy in fiendishly difficult places – which really adds up to hours of entertainment what with the hiding (adults) and the finding (too-big-to-be-childrens) and the ridiculous hinting when the seekers flop down in discouragement having discovered only one forlorn bundle of jelly beans, three chocolate eggs and a bag of chocolate which was declared out of bounds as it wasn’t actually hidden. Bonus – this year I actually wrote down where I hid everything so (unlike the four previous years) we found everything!
Miracles are best when small and thoroughly appreciated.
Maybe Easter not being your favorite holiday is a remnant of the former Judaism. It’s not something we get too excited about… maybe the attitude has stuck with you even though you’ve left the faith?
Anyway I guess I haven’t actually grown up yet either, because I’d be right there with Monkey, devouring chocolate rabbits for breakfast!
And Jesus? I’m pretty sure he’d like a good cup of coffee.
Those disciples were a whiny bunch, as much as I love them, and I can’t imagine having to deal with them without the benefit of coffee!
No fair. Your kids have school on Easter Monday? Ours are out until Wednesday. When they finally go back, that will be our miracle.
Our new(ish) administrator hid bunnies for us on Thursday. I donated my bunny to the co-worker with three small kids. So I got the joy of the hunt followed by the joy of no chocolate going straight to my hips. Win/win!
Get better soon, Aimee!
My folks learned to not hide the candy around the house after we spent one year finding it at odd times, like CHRISTMAS. After that it was a basket (fully loaded) right outside my bedroom door. This meant we didn’t have to worry about random rotting candy attracting ants. This year my mother gave me a Starbucks gift card. I gave her flowers, and cooked dinner for all of us.
Trust me, an overgrown bunny is FAR less frightening than Hip Hop Harry.
Sounds like a lovely Easter. I hope it is followed by an even lovelier week!
Easter is my favorite as well. Christmas is Hope, Easter is Renewal and Validation. It’s pretty much a refresh button for my Faith each year.
And, as an added bonus – there is a ham the size of a toddler. Have you ever noticed that the Holy holidays are also the “big meat” holidays?
Haha I kind of want to play the “Christ is risen” game! Our Easter service at church was really great, and I felt quite uplifted and encouraged. But then I missed my family, so that put a bit of a damper on the whole thing :P
You know…ham is lovely and delicious. Turkey is…okay, well I’m sure it’s lovely and delicious to some people. But where is the bacon holiday celebrating that which is TRULY lovely and delicious? Where is the big breakfast holiday? We need a holiday revolving around breakfasty goodness. Quick, someone bring back Linus and Snoopy and Charlie Brown and tell them we need their help creating new holiday traditions.
(Or maybe I’ve just gone and eaten too much of the kids’ sugary Easter candy. Either way.)