Easter Sunday

While I was growing up, we never had religion in the home.  I'm fairly certain I was baptized somewhere along the way, but we never attended church as a family.  I do have very fond memories of my Grandma Mary Lou picking me up for church in her extra-long green Lincoln Town Car with the white leather interior when I was a child, but I honestly knew nothing about religion until I was 18, when my own curiosity and a few dear childhood friends led to me to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  My childhood Easter memories consist of pretty pastel Easter dresses with matching gloves, lacy socks, purses and bobby-pin curls, followed by pictures, ham, and eating chocolate bunnies till we were sick.  And, lets not forget about hunting real eggs in the hot Arizona sun.  My Mom always let my brother and I dye dozens and dozens of eggs, and she/we would hide them all over the hot yard to find.   Inevitably we would hide an egg so well we wouldn't find it till June or July when it was good and stinky.   I will never forget the time I thought it would be an awesome idea to hide an egg in the tailpipe of my Dad's old green Ford truck.  It sure enough got stuck and my brother and I couldn't get it out.  I was so scared he was going to be mad at me (he wasn't), and I agonized over how to tell him for what felt like hours because I was sure the truck was a goner.   I can't recall how he found out, or whether or not I even fessed up to it immediately, but I do remember him turning the key of the ignition in that truck and the egg exploding out of the tailpipe like a rocket!  Best Thing EVER!  Those memories are all good memories that I cherish very much. 

I have a confession to make.  I don't dye eggs with the kids.  Not ever.   I started out being a grand egg dyer when Shandi was little, because that's what my Mom did for us.  Kudos to my Mom for doing that ritual with me and my brother every year!  But I just couldn't do it.  Hard boiled eggs are just gross unless you eat them immediately in egg salad or deviled eggs.  Truth.  Eggs already at room temperature for three days that you send out in the yard to get wedged in the woodpile next to the side of the house to find weeks later in the dead heat of an Arizona summer are just nasty (true childhood flashback).  So, one year Shandi didn't ask to dye eggs, and I didn't mention it.  And so began the tradition of me never dying eggs with the kids.  It didn't take much to convince Justice that the best Easter eggs were loaded with jellybeans and malted milk eggs anyhow, so nobody seems to care much that I've deprived them of this ritual.   

One of these years, Justice will eventually STOP believing in the Easter Bunny, right?  And Santa?  And the Tooth Fairy?  RIGHT?  Every year I keep saying "This is it, the last year he will believe..." and it never is.  I was SURE he'd be all Easter Bunnied out this year, but he wasn't.   Jack may stop believing before he does.

Justice:  "The Easter Bunny is coming!"

Jack:   "What Easter Bunny?"

Justice:  "The Easter Bunny comes in the middle of the night before Easter and brings us lots of candy."

Jack:  "How does he carry the candy?  Is he big?"

Justice:  "Yes, he's super big like a grown up."

Jack:  "But how does he get in the house?"

Justice (aggravated, rolls his eyes): " He's MAGIC, JACKSON!"  

Jack wasn't buying it, not one drop of it.  I'm pretty sure he will ruin Santa for Justice this year, too.  He gave Justice that "Wow, and they say you are the smart one of the bunch, huh?" look and went about his business.

I normally stuff a few dozen plastic eggs and the kids go hunt them in the yard Easter morning, but this year I got the brilliant idea to stuff 200, and leave them in the yard after the kids went to bed so it looked like the Easter Bunny left them.  Mental note...It takes a long time and a lot of candy to stuff 200 eggs.  It didn't take long to put them in the yard, but I couldn't do it until the boys fell asleep... tick tock, tick tock, ten o'clock and the boys were still fooling around and not sleeping because they were excited about the Easter Bunny.  Eventually they fell asleep and I got the baskets together and put the eggs outside.  

Easter morning.  Had to capture not only the crazy look on Justice's face, but look at Jack's face... clearly at the age of 3 he already knows Justice is nuts.  

Jack only picked up the green eggs at first since green is his favorite color and he's pretty much obsessed with it.  But it didn't take long to realize that Justice was going to get 75% of the eggs if he only got green, so he finally got with the program and branched out to the other colors.

Once we got the commercialism of Easter out of the boy's systems, it was time to get ready for church.  A few friends that shall remain nameless think it's awesome to have your family all match-matchy for church on special occasions.  Personally, I'm not a fan.  I am a fan of the boys having matching ties and I do that often, and I also think it's cute for Dad to get in on the action on Father's Day.  I think it's cute until I'm involved and have to wear matching clothing.   The week before Easter, I agreed to help a friend sew matching skirts for herself and her daughter.  I was super happy to do it, and they turned out great.  What I did not expect, was for The Coach to nose around the sewing table and ask why I wasn't sewing such masterpieces for my own family.  

Me:  "Look at the cute skirts I made for xxx and xxxxx to wear on Easter!"  (And this is where I should have shut my trap).  "Someone else is making bow ties of the same fabric so they will all match.  Isn't that cute?"

Joe:  "Where's ours?"

Me:  "I already made the boys ties, they are over there..."

Joe:  "Yeah but where's mine?"

Me:  "Oh, you want one too?  OK, no problem I can make you one."

Fast forward till later that afternoon, when Shandi comes to visit.

Me:  "Look at the cute skirts I made for xxx and xxxxx to wear on Easter!  And here, look at the bow ties I made for Joe and the boys!"  (I've already said too much)

Shandi: " Oh, I love them!!!  Now where's my skirt?"

Me (blank stare):  "Huh?  You want one too?????"  

Ugh.  So three bow ties and a skirt later, my family was all cutsey and match-matchy for Easter.  I was not.  I did not play in the matchy-matchy game.  But I will admit that I felt sort of left out, and knew that in the future I'd have to get in on the action myself. 

I have no earthly idea why we don't have any pictures of everyone all together.  But here's a shot of Joe and the boys, before church.  I know it's before church, because Jack's shirt is neatly tucked in.  That lasts all of about five minutes.

You can tell these were taken AFTER church, because not only is Jack's shirt untucked, but he's clearly not in the mood to have his picture taken.  He's done being good and reverent for the day.

Church was wonderful as always, and I felt blessed to be surrounded by such wonderful and loving people during church.  I love to go to church every Sunday, but Easter Sunday is always a huge reminder for us of the love Jesus has for us and the incredible gifts he has given to us through the Atonement.  I am thankful for the gospel,  to have the Priesthood in our home and to enjoy the many blessings the love of Christ has brought into our home.