I love Easter. As a child, my parents were so good at the whole "Easter Bunny" thing; they were so creative about hiding eggs and filling our baskets. It was such an exciting time, waking up on Easter morning and discovering just what that elusive rabbit had left us, second only to Christmas morning.
Now that I'm grown, I still love Easter, but for a different reason. It seems only since I've become a parent that I truly understand how someone could love another person enough to die for them. It is such a humbling yet joyful time of remembrance and renewal. "Thank you" seems too small a phrase for such an amazing gift that I most certainly do not deserve, but "thank you" is all I have. Thank you, Lord, for dying for me. Thank you, Lord, for saving me. Thank you, Lord, for loving me in spite of my shortcomings. Thank you, Lord, for the amazing hope we have in the empty tomb. He is RISEN!
Remember how I said my parents were really good at the whole 'Santa/Easter Bunny' thing? I, unfortunately, am not. The girls from my MOPS group and I got together on Thursday to let the kiddos play and put together their Easter baskets (probably the last year we'll be able to do this right in front of them) and, when I came home, I put MJ's basket on a shelf in the guest room. We rarely go in there so I didn't worry about him finding it. Well, yesterday, as I was putting laundry away, I heard him start freaking out in the other room. Sure enough, he had spotted the basket and was jumping up and down and pointing, desperate to get to it. I probably would have let him have it if Jonathan had been home, but he wasn't. And, since he missed MJ's first Easter, I didn't want him to miss this one. So I told him "no." Commence massive break-down. *Sigh* I really need to find out how my parents managed all those years without ever getting caught.
Anyways, despite the set-back, I put the Easter basket out on Sunday morning, hoping he'd still be at least a little excited to get it.
"Mom! Look!" (And yes, he approached it cautiously. I'm sure he was just waiting for me to take it away again. Mom of the Year, right here.)
Straight for the new truck.
I've said time and again, if my son gets nothing else from me, I hope he gets my love for books. Thankfully, he seems to be.
Jonathan and I debated about whether or not to take MJ to any of the community Easter egg hunts. We ultimately decided against it, and it's a good thing. Jonathan hid a few eggs around the yard, and we tried to coax Matthew to find them and put them in his basket. It's amazing how an almost 20-month-old can already look at you like you're stupid. "You want me to do what? Why?"
He FINALLY started to get the hang of it, but we had to point out every single egg for him.
As with EVERYTHING in our house, Oskar was on hand to supervise.
The one thing he liked about the egg hunt? Shaking them. Filled with M&M's, goldfish, and money, they made GREAT noise makers.
"I've found all the eggs and dumped all their contents into the basket. Now what?"
Nothing like a toddler to make you realize the absolute absurdity of some our holiday traditions. :)
Happy Easter, everyone!
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