happy easter


We had a great Easter today, full of all of the important rituals that remind us of our risen Lord.  Like easter baskets, candy, crap from the Target dollar bins, and an unhealthy focus on matching outfits.

I sort of can’t help the last one.  It’s genetic.  Growing up, Easter Sunday was all about the white gloves, the white hat, the white tights, and an outfit that looked like a Quincenera dress that had been dipped into pastel Easter egg dye.  (And apparently, in the year 1985, about feathered bangs).

image I consider it showing great restraint that my girls went bare-legged and that their outfits were color-coordinated but not entirely matching.  Given my upbringing and all.


There was some outfit drama with the boys, too.  Jafta had it in his mind that he wanted to wear a tie, but the only one I could find was dotted with skulls.  It wasn’t exactly screaming He Is Risen. But it’s the best I could do.  The shirt I bought Kembe did not have a tie . . . which he was very sad about.  So he ended up wearing his shirt and tie from last year. Meltdown averted.  Color scheme ruined.  Womp womp womp.


The kids got bug nets in their Easter baskets. They put them to use very quickly, though not in the ways I’d envisioned.


We managed to make it to the early service (and by early I mean 9am.  You “sunrise service” people are crazy).  Francis Chan gave a great message, and the baptisms made me bawl.  They do every year.

image(photo by Brittani Ehrhorn)

image(photo by Brittani Ehrhorn)


image(photo by Brittani Ehrhorn)


After the service the children demonstrated all they had learned about God’s love by fighting over a donut and refusing to look at the camera.


We had Mark’s parents and aunt over for brunch at our house.  I’ve always been a fan of the blog Girls Gone Child but since her mom started writing a weekly healthy food guide, I’m even more hooked.  I made both of her recipes from this post and they were both delicious.


After brunch we had Mark take the kids on a walk because it had been drizzling all morning so I hadn’t been able to hide the eggs.  Can we talk about how many questions my 6-year-old had about the specifics of the Easter bunny this week?  He is at the age where he is really having doubts, so he was asking me pointed questions all week long.  Confession: I am OVER lying to my kids.  I’ve never told them about Santa or the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy, and yet they know all about these traditions.  And I’m willing to go along with it, but at the point where my skeptical son is asking why the stuff in the Easter basket was the stuff he saw in the garage and why did the Easter bunny not hide the eggs in the middle of the night and how does a bunny carry all that stuff?  I just want to scream BECAUSE IT’S NOT REAL!!!  I’m ready for the charade to be over.  I only like to tell lies about things that benefit me.


Mark went over the rules of the easter egg hunt. During this time, Karis took her basket and started collecting the pokey balls from the yard.  (I think these things have a more technical name but at this point, I actually cannot remember what it is.  At all.  Pokey balls?  They fall from trees?  Anyone?).


Karis got so involved in the acquisition of pokey balls that she actually refused to transition to the backyard, where the eggs were hidden.  Mark had to carry her kicking and screaming into the backyard, while she reached out for her blessed pokey balls.  Did I mention she turns 2 this week?



Then my kids found the eggs and gorged themselves on candy.  He Is Risen, Indeed.

After the egg hunt we tried to get a family photo, and despite grandma taking 2,136 shots, not a one of them had all four kids looking at the camera.


Oh well.  At least my Spanx aren’t showing.  Happy Easter!


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