Hippity Hop.

I don't know why I don't love Easter. Maybe it's the baskets full of candy nestled in shreds of uber-synthetic green plastic, or the competition of hunting for those little plastic eggs with a penny inside. Maybe it's the faces on those creepy, giant easter bunnies at the mall. I don't know—it's just not my thing. 

For a few years, I could get by with not doing much besides putting out our centerpiece, which again celebrates the holiday with tongue firmly planted in cheek. Our vintage, glitter-laden bunny wears false eyelashes and that's about the end of it. 

Now let's be clear—none of my disdain is related to the purpose behind the holiday. I observe and respect the religious side of things...its just that waxy, molded chocolate and white ruffled socks are not my gig.

So alas, I planned nothing this year besides the unveiling of their baskets. I figured this was no big deal and even told Ella that they would get easter baskets, but we didn't have plans for an Easter egg hunt this year. She seemed unaffected.

Then Derek and I got home from a Reds game with friends that Saturday night. We walked into the kitchen to find this note on the counter:

In the spirit of my failure as a Mom, I darted into her room and immediately looked behind her door to find this basket. She had no access to money or a car or a store, so she made a basket full of handmade paper "eggs" with notes and treats inside...one for everyone in the family to open on Easter Morning. I went to bed and cried. What's wrong with me? We didn't even dye eggs! Or hide them! My 6 year old showed me how it's done.

 

Sunday morning, all four of us slept in our bed, then enjoyed a big breakfast. We had a great family discussion about Christ, the meaning of the Resurrection, and all we've been granted.

The kiddos opened their baskets from "The Bunny" and baskets from their grandparents.

 

We let Ella go last, her toothless grin showcasing her excitement as she handed out her beautiful paper eggs. I opened mine carefully, read her sweet note, and savored the laffy taffy slowly, with gratitude...and pride.