Easter

My daughter looked at me during the course of our Easter celebration and said, "Mom, I can't remember last Easter. What did we do?"

Hm. I remembered we went to church at night that Sunday, but that was it. 

"I don't remember," I answered. 

"Aw," she said, sadly.

I decided this was incentive enough to document this Easter. And life more, really. I need to do that for them, and for me. 

So this was Easter. 

We started off at church with the 8 am service. I liked this much better than the night church we did last year. I think I would love a sunrise service even. I'm fine with our church not offering that - I just like the "early" morning aspect of being at church celebrating on Resurrection Sunday. I think being worshipping as the sun rises would be something I'd like to try one day.

Worship was so sweet. A long, intensive study in my own Bible study time in the weeks before Easter  of the time in Jesus' life between the anointing of Him in Bethany until His ascension had been simply amazing. I hope to write another post about that soon, so I won't say much about it now, but all of that study had me so excited to worship with other believers about the beautiful life saving miracle of that Sunday morning. 

It was good. 

I had gotten smart and done most of the pre-cooking for our brunch on Saturday. I even put the food in the oven Sunday morning before we left for church, and set the timer for the oven to come on an hour before we got home so that everything would be heated up and almost ready for us to eat. I'm not sure what possessed me to be so organized and well planned. (It was a total accident, I assure you.) 

 My sweet sister cooked the bacon. It's her job every year, we figured out. She doesn't mind. She's good at it. 

My daughter told me that one of her friend's mom makes home-made orange rolls. While I'm sure that this makes me a bad mother, Sister Schubert's orange rolls are one of my most favorite things in the world. So much so that I took a picture of them. 

They are my favorite. 

I think I said that already. 

We ate and talked and even Bella got to be in on the conversation.

She got no orange rolls, though. I'm sure this made her sad.

She even looks a little sad. 

I think I was a little tired by this point. It was all that cooking the day before. 

And the 7 hours of church I went to on Friday night.

It was also a continuation of my birthday.

 That is always a good thing. 

After brunch, we just relaxed and talked some more. 

The middle kid held his own in a game of Scrabble against the middle sister, with some help from her sweet husband. 

Mimi and the girl kid planned a wedding with a wedding planning DS game. 

They both enjoyed that. 

I'm not sure how much of a contribution the baby kid was to the planning of the nuptials, but he enjoyed the snuggling. 

He then decided that playing Cooties with Dad was a better option. 

They both ended up making the same face. 

After pursuing Twitter, I saw so many sweet family pictures of friends in their Easter outfits. 

I recalled the days when I not only preplanned the kids' outfits, but took time to document them in said outfits. 

Like this:

And this remains my all time favorite Easter picture of all time. (It's worth saying "all time" twice) This is so our family. And this is also probably the reason that I stopped taking Easter pictures. 

But I'm glad I have this one. 

It's my favorite. 

I love it so much that I can't even stop looking at it. 

Anyway...

This is how we do family pictures now:

That little kid (trying to dart out of the picture there on the left) isn't the best photographer, but he's still hilariously funny. 

And a stinker. When it was time to get dressed Sunday morning, instead of just letting the boys get dressed out of their "church clothes drawer" (which is really just nicer shorts and tee shirts) I dug out some nice pants and shirts for a change. 

You know, since it was Easter. 

This kid didn't want to wear his "Easter pants" and shirt. After a few minutes of a struggle, I said, "FINE" and he went and got some of his usual church clothes. Then he couldn't get the shorts buttoned and in my quick frustration in trying to get them buttoned, I bled all over his shorts and shirt. (Note to self, when you cook for Easter the day before, and you decide to use the nice, new sharp knives that a sweet friend gave you instead of the dull knives you got as a wedding present 16 years ago, they will probably actually slice things quickly and easily instead of you having to saw through things with muscle and force. This also includes, unfortunately, your finger that you failed to remove from the path of the knife that will even the next day still bleed without a second's notice.) After this speed bump in the dressing game, I lost my patience and sweetly said yelled, "GO PUT ON THE EASTER PANTS AND SHIRT" and then locked myself in my room so I could brush my hair and teeth and smash myself in my own new birthday/Easter dress and get to church before it was over. 

I just wanted that documented for posterity's sake. 

The family left late in the afternoon, and we all changed and headed outside. I went for a run to try to work off some of the 8.3 million calories I had just consumed (thank you, Sister Schubert) and then collapsed into my new birthday hammock with my new book that the nice people at the 7 hour church service gave out. 

It was a little light reading. 

With a few thoughts to ponder. 

The guys played football and grilled out hot dogs and hamburgers and loved on the neighborhood cat that insists on thinking that she lives here. 

Not everyone is okay with her thinking that. 

That stinky little kid, now safely wearing clothes of his choice, and I laughed and played. 

And showed each other our muscles. 

Then this big kid came home from a neighborhood friend's house, and I wondered if she grew in the couple of hours that she was gone. 

This is also another post brewing in my head. 

The day ended with some tears from a way too tired kid, but I got to snuggle a sleepy, warm person who will all too soon be gone. 

I won't write that post yet. 

It was a sweet, precious Resurrection Sunday. I'm so thankful for God's gift to us in Christ, and for Christ's obedience to His Father in giving His life on the cross. It's the only reason I live. And I'm eternally grateful.