It was sunrise on Easter morning. My bladder woke me up as usual, but before I went into the bathroom I wanted to look out the window. I blinked. I even squinted my eyes, but the snow kept coming down. I whispered, "Crap. It's snowing on Easter." I eventually stumbled back to bed only to realize that going back to sleep was a lost cause. I lay there remembering past Easters. All of my memories of Easter did not even come close to this wintery morning. As my husband and I are getting ready for church, I complain about the weather. I said, "They should put Easter later in the month to prevent this from happening! They changed the daylight savings time thingie!" My husband immediately puts on his "yeah, right" look and says something smart that I didn't take the time to wrap my brain around because I just wanted to complain for the sake of complaining. Anyway, I pull out our winter coats to cover all our pastel colors and trudge to church through the icky weather. After the service and some fellowship, we head outside to the still snowing day. Halfway home, Justin starts singing Jingle Bells and exclaiming how much he loves snow. I'm beginning to wonder if we skipped summer and fall all of a sudden. He continues to sing and then Caleb and Aidan join in, but it sounds like a children's choir warming up before the big performance. They sing at different pitches and at different times with different words. Finally, Nathanael couldn't take it anymore and yells, "Shut up!" After three more "shut ups" two seconds later, he forgot they were driving him nuts and started singing along with them. When we get home, I immediately start dinner preparations in the midst of my nausea and fatigue, but I was determined. We were going to have our traditional Easter dinner even if it was going to kill me. As the ham is heating up in the oven, the delicious smell started to spread through the house. Looking out the window, even Daddy couldn't resist singing Jingle Bells with the falling snow. After the egg hunt (indoors, of course), the plastic eggs full of candy mysteriously disappeared while the oblivious mom finished dinner in the kitchen. Finally, it's dinner time and the only one with an appetite is Dad. After our family movie, I trudge upstairs like walking through sand to my bed. Minutes later, the door bangs open and in walks Aidan. With a welcoming smile and hug, he lays down on the pillow next to mine. After much tossing and turning he finally settles down and falls asleep. Listening to my son's even breathing, I finally felt permission to completely zonk out for the rest of the night. My last thought was, "Happy Easter to all! And to all a good night!"
Doc and I have actually been tweeking with the idea of going on a date. I know. Totally weird. Not the idea of doing something romantic. It's the idea that we actually might have the guts to dump our offspring on some unsuspecting person. This has always been a hard decision for us to make. I mean, we do watch the news and let's face it, we're paranoid. That's probably why we haven't been on a real date that didn't include scarfing down our food as fast as we can and running back home to see if it's still standing and no one is bleeding. Just the other day, I asked Doc, "So, are we going out for Chinese tonight?" I was crossing my fingers mentally, chewing on my lip. I so wanted to be irresponsible. We haven't been on a date in forever and I was craving Chinese like crazy. I suggested that our 13-year-old son get a chance to hold down the fort for a couple hours. I even turned on my sexy voice and said, "We'll have our cell phone with ...
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