We don't do the Easter Bunny, extravagent egg hunts, or baskets full of goodies. It's fine if you do. We don't. We recently started celebrating Passover and that has been wonderful, enriching, and educational. But without the pastel decorations, flimsy plastic eggs, and mountains of candy, Easter was lackluster - especially for the kids. This year my seven year old asked me if what we celebrate at Easter is really more important than what we celebrate at Christmas. Yes, absolutely, I told him. Then why, he naturally responded, is it not as exciting?
He wasn't wrong.
Given this exchange happened on the day before the Sunday celebration this year I had little time to be imaginative. I asked him what would make it special and exciting for him. His answer gave me hope - he asked for a surprise breakfast and for me to be downstairs before they are. (Life hack: teach your kids how to make their own breakfast and you can sleep in.)
I took his suggestions and half-assed an Easter celebration. I ran out to the store and grabbed glazed donuts and chocolate donut holes. Sunday morning I set my alarm earlier (the things we do for them) and went downstairs to assemble my idea. I cut the whole glazed donuts in half and stood one half on its ends. I then used a chocolate donut hole as the stone that sealed the tomb. Ya'll, this was rough looking - even by half-ass standards. But I didn't have any other ideas so I decided to go with it. (I threw some red and green grapes on the plate as well because my mom brain said that would make it a healthier breakfast. I didn't question my mom brain, I let her have that one. Sometimes you just have to be kind to her.)
I then went upstairs to wake the kids. I had told them they couldn't get out of bed until after 7:15 AM if they wanted a chance at me being downstairs before they were. Our daughter was still asleep but I heard the boys stirring in their room so I went to them first. I opened the door and excitedly proclaimed, "Good morning! It's early in the morning on the first day of the week - let's get your sister and then go downstairs to the tomb." (Luke 24--ish) Both boys excitedly jumped out of bed and ran to their sister's room. I followed and gave the same proclamation. A much less exuberant response greeted us:
8 year old daughter: Mom. *sigh* Mom. I'm tired. Can I go see the tomb later? (Wraps covers tightly around herself and turns away from us.)
Me: Of course! (I am not one to typically wake a sleeping 8 year old) You can be Peter! We will go to the tomb and then come back and tell you what we find.
8 year old daughter (whipping around, throwing off covers): Mom, no!!! I want to be Mary Magdalene!!
And with that she jumped out of bed and raced downstairs with her brothers. I paused in the hallway, trying to commit the moment to memory. I relished the seeming success of my half-assed endeavor at creating a special moment. I gave myself a gold star as a homeschool mama that my daughter, half-asleep, knew the story well enough to know which character she wanted to be. I paused, just to pause, and make sure I was present. Then I followed the kids downstairs.
As they inhaled the empty tomb and the stone that had been rolled away I animatedly read the rest of Luke 24, with some small dialogue embellishments. The small floof-dog and I were the angels, to great amusement. The kids laughed and ate and beamed excitedly. They made themselves some more breakfast and then sat on the couch and watched the Storykeeper's Easter Story episode (plus probably two more episodes at least) while I went back upstairs to get ready for the day.
It was a wonderful moment. A memory that I will treasure. It added excitement and childish exuberance to a holiday where we celebrate something truly special to our faith. And it was half-assed and no one would know it. It was an achievement.
My takeaway lesson I learned: ask the kids what is one thing that would make an occasion special. And then try to do that thing. Even simply.
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