Resurrection

Each day that I don’t write down memories, some fade away. It makes me a little bit sad, because there are so many moments each day that I think I will never forget. I know that they all blend into a beautiful light that colors the way I see everything, but still… a little bit sad when I forget details. I played single mom this week while Daddy was in the UK so life got a little busier. A little cuddlier too, turns out B is extra cuddly with me when Daddy isn’t around – especially during the sappy parts of “Tangled”. Sigh… We are so glad to have Daddy home, and I’m finally writing down some of the things I remember from Easter weekend.

I remember the sermon. I’m sure our minister would be happy to hear that. No surprise that it was on the resurrection – but what wedged itself in my heart was the reminder that we need to experience the resurrection in a personal way. To be reborn again and again. I’m a big believer in every day miracles, in moments where I realize that there are infinite fresh starts – opportunities for a ‘clean slate’ as my Dad would say. I don’t think it takes a big stretch of the imagination to guess that Brendan resurrected my heart in a big huge way, and that each day he expands my heart more and more and more. Brendan is a clear sign to me that God knew what he was doing with my life. And B helps me to see all the little moments that tell me the same thing – the butterflies, the clouds, the rainbows, sparkles on water, magic in traffic, the opportunity to share a hug or an M&M. He also helped me to re-see a moment that happened early Easter morning. I had carefully assembled the cutest Easter outfit for Brendan – a Navy blue blazer, tie that matched the cuffs on his white shirt – everything an Easter outfit should be. Mommy and Daddy carefully matched their outfits to his, and so did Grandma and Grandpa. Daddy carefully pressed everything and hung it on the hanger so that we could change him at Grandma and Grandpa’s house right before church (i.e. after our traditional Krispy Kreme donut run on the way down). We were two exits away and I said to Daddy, “You got Brendan’s outfit, right?”. His silence and the look on his face was not reassuring. Needless to say, Mommy was crushed. I will admit that I was close to bursting into tears. Brendan was still in his pajamas with no Easter outfit. I sat in silence and took the last two exits to remind myself that Easter is not about new outfits or being perfectly dressed. And that my joy was not sitting on a hanger back home, but sitting with me in the car. When we arrived at Grandma and Grandpa’s I quickly took stock. Since Brendan is in big boy underwear, but still not pooping on the potty (!) I had brought a back-up pair of shorts. At the last minute I threw in a short sleeved white tshirt that didn’t have too many stains. I had some new white tennis shoes. Not too shabby – certainly better than pj’s. And then I looked over on the dresser in my old room and saw a pretty blue sweater the color of Brendan’s eyes. I picked it up and realized it was one my Mom had knit for me when I was a little girl. It looked a little small, but I tried it on my son. The sentimental value of him wearing that sweater outweighed the fact that it was a tad too small, and far outweighed the perfectly fitting outfit I had intended to put him in. Daddy apologized for not putting the outfit in the car, and I told him I now realized that it was meant to be forgotten.

At church, our boy was excited about everything – seeing his grandparents, the singing, the children’s sermon…

and then he insisted on leaving with the big kids for the rest of children’s church. Daddy went with him, but they returned just as Grandpa was delivering the prayer for communion. I thought B might call out for his Grandpa, but he just sat and gazed at him – and I caught the eye of our minister watching the scene with delight. Grandma cheated and offered Brendan a communion wafer – something she NEVER let me do when I was a little girl. What happens at Grandma’s stays at Grandma’s extends to church apparently, where she continued to feed her Grandson every sugary treat he showed even the slightest interest in. No wonder he didn’t nap…

They had an epic egg hunt after church. EPIC. There were so many eggs, and there were special gold coins that got you big bags of treats. And Brendan was an active participant.

He continues to want to have egg hunts every day at home. He has us fill the eggs with his tiny race cars, and gets excited as he opens each one.

Also, I was looking at Grandpa and suddenly realized he had a very inappropriate sticker on his jacket. He claimed the minister’s wife stuck it there for an event they were doing, but I wonder. At least his wife didn’t seem to mind.

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Then it was time for our family photos:

And then back to Grandma and Grandpa’s where we were hoping the Easter Bunny would visit. We were also hoping for a nap, but as I mentioned, that didn’t happen. (thanks Grandma) Turns out the Easter Bunny really is magic, and found a way to get everything hidden in time:

There was also some bubbling and some wagon time:

There are so many more pictures (HERE Mom), and so many more memories, but two boys want to play hide-n-seek-swords with me, and I think you get the idea – it was a very nice Easter.