I am lucky to have a husband who is also an involved daddy. On Friday, as I was working furiously to finish a baby carrier, he was planning for Easter. He pulled out a little over half of the four-dozen eggs in our refrigerator and boiled them so everything would be ready for coloring eggs on Saturday.
Saturday morning, while I was out doing my Easter Bunny shopping duties, Sean and his brother took our kids and their cousins to a local Easter egg hunt (apparently, due to the weather, it was more of an Easter egg drive through, which really excited the daddies). We all came home and, after quiet time, Sean set up the cups of dye and pulled out the eggs.
Coloring eggs with almost 2, 3 1/2, and almost 5-year-old boys is a real challenge for my nerves. Honestly, we don’t do nearly as many craft-type things as we probably should because I don’t like dealing with the messes created (my gosh, daily life creates enough messes to be cleaned…). So, anyhow, I at least had the foresight to put them in clothes that I wouldn’t be freaked out if they ended up dyed, and we went through half-hour or so of trying to contain the mess while still letting everyone (except, possibly, the parents) enjoy the experience. It wasn’t long before we had slightly less than 2 dozen brightly colored eggs (hmmm…curious, since Sean was sure that he had boiled around 30).
So, we finished with the dying, and Sean moved the dried eggs out to the dining room table so the boys could put on the stickers that came in the egg kit. C~ picked up one of his eggs and, as he was attempting to put on a sticker, it dropped to the table and cracked. And the insides started to leak out.
Lightbulbs went off.
You see that tray of boring white eggs? The ones sitting next to the pretty colored ones? Yeah, the white eggs are the ones that were boiled. We just put ourselves through coloring raw eggs with our little boys.
After a few minutes of conspiratorial whispering (oh, and a brief attempt to boil some colored eggs–it doesn’t work), we decided that we would let the boys decorate some white eggs with stickers, wait for them to go to bed, and color the boiled eggs on our own.
Easter morning was great. Three little boys running through the house shouting, “I found one!” then stuffing themselves with large amounts of sugar. The Easter service at church was very nice, although long. I never quite understand putting together a meeting that you know will run way over when the already wiggly kids are, inevitably, going to be even more wiggly due to the state of their blood sugar. But if I didn’t have small kids, yeah, I would have really enjoyed it.
This Sunday was also W’s turn to say the scripture and prayer for opening exercises in Primary. We picked one that is high on my list of favorite scriptures:
And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins.
~2 Nephi 25:26 (The Book of Mormon)
Really, what better message for Easter Sunday? I am grateful for all that Christ suffered for me in the Garden of Gethsemane. I am eternally grateful that he overcame both sin and death for us. And I am grateful to live in a country that allows me to “rejoice in Christ.” Really, we are blessed.