Wednesday, April 23, 2014


Easter was quiet. Saturday LD took to kids to their cousins' house to dye eggs. That night MIL, LD, and I packed small chocolates into plastic eggs and hid them around the house. In the morning the kids found their Easter baskets at the foot of their respective beds and bounced downstairs to start collecting loot. Wow was a little slow to understand the purpose of the hunt and so Munch swiped up about 90% of the eggs. Later, upon discovering their contents, he helped himself to a good portion of his sister's stash.

I see an egg...
getting cooler..
now warmer..

still cool..

After breakfast I got into a wrestling match with Wow over the issue of pants, specifically with this being Easter and all, he needed to wear them. 

I didn't then have it in me to insist that Munch wear the Easter dress I'd picked out for her. She piled on a favorite assortment of stripes, hearts, and flowers and we headed over to Factor V's house. All day my Facebook feed rolled through pictures of Wow and Munch's friends in miniature bow ties and patent leather shoes.
We spent the remaining morning with Factor V's family and the early afternoon at the nursery buying flowers for the yard. Wow and I had not been getting along very well - a recent friction that has run deeper than NO PANTS NO - so it felt good to snuggle next to him for his late afternoon nap. We'd cancelled the big family dinner when LD, MIL, and Wow all developed viral gastroenteritis.

As we are not the particularly religious sort, Easter can be a difficult holiday to navigate. Actually, that isn't entirely true. LD has never been "the particularly religious sort", whereas I was once a practicing Catholic. Even though I am no longer religious, I don't want my children to think that Easter a holiday dedicated to creepy man-sized bunnies and discolored eggs. Easter, with its emphasis on new life, is also about death and rebirth, forgiveness and redemption. As far as LD is concerned, all of that is fine, so long as there are decorated, hard boiled eggs that will later be made into (and I love the irony) deviled eggs. I hate deviled eggs. 

Every night before I leave her bedside, Munch asks me to tell her about my day. I wrote about the problems this line of inquiry can pose at MiM, the gist of which is that I am sometimes unsure about what's appropriate to share with my five year old. Since I wrote that post we've started talking more about death, so that now she wants to know ABOUT THE PATIENTS WHO DIED. Although I am still uncomfortable discussing this subject matter with her, I try, quite awkwardly, to present her with what I do and do not know of death. So Sunday night, instead of patients, I talked her though the events of Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday. I emphasized that "some people" believe we continue living after we die, but shared that I personally wasn't sure what happened after death. She was silent for a few minutes, then asked (and I swear I did not see this coming) HOW DID THEY KILL HIM? 

Even though it has been thirteen years since I practiced Catholicism, I'm not so far removed so as to not realize that, in the grand pantheon of Christian iconography, the image Jesus's crucifixion is arguably the most important, but in the small narrative I'd cobbled together for my daughter, with its borrowed bits from Christianity, pagan naturalism, and my own personal ethos work hard, play hard, and be nice to people, it was difficult to find a place for that particular bit of information. I said I wasn't sure. And she totally, 100%, in no uncertain terms, did not believe me. 


  1. Of course she didn't believe you...mama knows EVERYTHING and she knows that! ;) And that picture of Wow...uhm I may or may not have squealed out loud when I saw it!!!!!! P.S. he's never liked pants! LOL :) Sounds like you had a wonderful Easter. <3


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