Going on an Egg Hunt

Today we celebrated Easter, and I had so much fun seeing the kids enjoy the holiday. I love the magic that shines in their eyes and radiates from their hearts. I love that the Easter Bunny is no joke and movies like Hop are so cool for them to see. It's my time to live vicariously through the innocence and newness of everything in their lives. It's my time to remember what life is like before the harsh reality of the world permanently makes its stamp on the minds of adults.

We started the day with the kids finding their Easter baskets filled with surprises and candy... candy which takes them on a roller coaster of sugar highs and lows... candy which causes Summit to turn into a manic depressive little monster at various times throughout his waking hours. I'd like to say that it's just for today and we'll try to hide the rest of it, but I know that kid hoards candy about the house. I've found it stashed beneath his bed on a number of occassions. He's a junkie. When we finished eating a breakfast of champions of Peeps and marshmallow bunnies, we rushed to church so the kids could understand the true meaning of the day. (Last Easter, as we sat at breakfast talking about Jesus, Summit got excited, and said, "Cheezits? I love Cheezits." Jeez.) Of course, we were late, but that's nothing new. I'm late for everything

After church, we headed to my parents' house for a day with Popi, Babi, Kent, John Wesley, and Ashley (JW's girlfriend). We I lounged around while Matt, my dad, and the kids went fishing and my mom finished Easter dinner. I really tried to help, but after I put the sweet potatoes on to boil, the couch lulled me onto it like Odysseus' sirens and wouldn't let go until I had a 30 minute nap. Before you go hating on me, my mother had cooked most of the other stuff before we got there, and I made dinner for everyone Saturday night. I'm not completely worthless.

Lunch was followed with a hunt for the eggs we dyed the previous day. The kids loved it... well, right up until the end when they were searching for the final tie-dyed egg and Ella stepped in Summit's basket and smashed his hard-boiled treasures. It didn't help that there was an uneven number of those things, and Ella broke the tie when she snagged the last one. Talk about a meltdown. C'est la vie. When I was a little girl, we had always Easter at my Grandma and Popa's, and my oldest cousin Angie perpetually barrelled her way to the eggs, flattening anyone who dared to get in her way. All us other kids would be bruised and bleeding with just a few eggs in our baskets. It got to the point where we just gave up and handed her the eggs... like we had Stockholm Syndrome. At least Ella wasn't tackling her brother for the eggs. It could have been worse.

The day ended with a round of hitting balls in the front yard. All of us, even my mom, stepped up to the plate, and, honestly, it is hilarious to see my mom doing athletic stuff. You'd think she'd be better since my Popa was on his way to the Big Leagues before he lost his eye sight in World War II, but she's not. I love my mom, and she's good at lots of things, but swinging a bat isn't one of them. She did hit the ball, but little Summit has better form. (Also, I hit the ball farther than anyone except my dad, who was using a tennis ball, which is the only reason his had that distance. That's right, John Wesley, farther than you!)

Yeah, this was a good day. The kids are completely asleep and we're all full of yummy food and greatly appreciated relaxation. Even more, we'll all have these memories to carry with us. One day my kids will look back on these times with fondness and realize that they have always been loved and that they are a part of a family who likes to have fun and be together. And, for me, that is one of the most important things that they can know.