Sorry all–computer problems were trying to keep the man down, but the man fought back!
So, Easter was on Sunday. In case you missed it. For those of you who have been following this wacky journey of mine, you may recall last year’s Easter was a little, shall we say, dangerous? Courtesy of my sister Maggi and her quest to hide the eggs in a vortex. It was dewy, eggs were in trees, long story short, we had a small incident that resulted in my nephew falling out of a tree. He got the egg though, all that matters.
Not wanting to damage or maim my child before I got my money’s worth, this year we opted for a much safer egg hunt. We spent the day with my brother-in-law Charles and his lovely girlfriend Cheri and her completely awesome family. Cheri has twin 10 year old sisters who think Dylan is the shit, so it’s always a good time there. We were in charge of hiding the eggs, and not wanting to completely give them away (come on, there’s something to be said for making them work for it), I hid them in safe but obscure places. Tom and I cheated and “found” some eggs to put in the little monster’s basket, and the twins Tatiana and Emily were left to find the rest. And they did, for the most part. Except, I did such a good job hiding some of the eggs that they couldn’t find them. And neither could we. Since I forgot where I hid them. Luckily, they’re plastic (when I was a kid, we hid real hard boiled eggs, in the desert, and NEVER found them all), so they’ll probably be there next year. And really, what’s better than year old candy? Uh, very little!
So the egg hunt was a success (although I did miss the danger and excitement of life threatening Easter egg hunts…next year, when she can walk). Dinner was delicious. Jelly beans, Peeps, Cadbury Cream Eggs (MY FAVORITE), all delightful. A lovely, memorable first Easter for Dylan, who, other than being able to spend the day with more family, probably didn’t even realize it was any different from the Sunday before. But, since then, I’ve been thinking about Easter and what it means. I mean, MEANS means. Look, I am just about the least religious person in the whole world. I am a spiritual person, in my own way, but church? No. Never. Not for me. Tom and I have been doing some research, and have been talking about becoming Buddhists (no, I’m not kidding). I want something for Dylan to have as she’s growing up, some kind of faith or place of comfort, somewhere she can turn to if she needs somewhere to turn to besides me. More on that later, I’m sure.
But all this Easter stuff got me thinking: what do I tell Dylan if or when she asks me about Easter? Like, real, non-marshmallow Easter? I don’t know very much about it, other than the basics. Do I bone up on the info to be prepared? Do I consult a priest (pastor? See, no clue)? I mean, I’m not a church lady, but maybe Dylan will be. It’s her choice, 100%. We’ll raise her (loosely) Buddhist, but if she doesn’t want to be Buddhist, if she’s more drawn to the Catholic or Christian faith, I will encourage her and make sure she feels supported and accepted. But until she chooses, if she asks, what do I say? And what about Christmas? Because I imagine there comes a time when kids start to understand that these super fun holidays full of candy and presents were not invented solely for the purpose of eating candy and getting presents. I’d really, truly appreciate some feedback or suggestions. Because church stuff, if you’re not a church person, is some real mind bending shit man. On the real.