Callan is dancing in a shower of bubbles in the living room right now, a prize from his Easter Basket, and we’re all enjoying a quiet Easter evening. We had crepes fro breakfast, listened to Amy’s concert choir concert on BYU radio over the internet, went to church, took naps, had Montgomery Family Autumn Soup for dinner, and have been helping Callan play with some of his new things.
This week has brought us to the mid point in April, to the first real spring weather, and to the end of Melissa’s first trimester. Yes, if you couldn’t have guessed it from all the talk about her being sick, Melissa is pregnant, and due around Halloween, after we are back in Utah. She is feeling better lately than she was, but mornings are still generally miserable. Ironically, today she has felt better than she has felt in weeks, and instead I have a miserable cold/cough/headache/achy body that has just about wiped me out. Thankfully tomorrow is our day off and I will be able to stay in bed most of the day.
We managed to get out the door in time for sacrament meeting at noon. I took a nap from after breakfast until about 11:15 AM, and then I threw some clothes on and we headed off to church. There were good talks about the atonement and the resurrection by one of the missionaries, an older sister in the branch, and then a talk on how to increase Christ-like attributes in our families by a a member of the branch presidency. After church the branch president released Melissa from the primary and called me in her place (not as organist, just as a teacher). So for the next three months, I’ll be teaching the 8 and older crowd at primary which consists of one girl and three boys from two different families.
Callan’s Easter was fun, except that he woke up at three in the morning to get a drink of water and found his Easter Basket in the living room. He wanted to look at it, and it took some persuading to get him to go back to bed. After a glass of water and a few bites of something to eat, he finally agreed to come to bed (but only in mom and dad’s bed).
At 7:00 He woke up again and there was no stopping him. By the time I had crawled out of bed, he had already opened and devoured the contents of four of the six plastic eggs and would have finished off the rest if he hadn’t talked him into saving some for later.
As part of his Easter basket Callan got a special toy this year. At the dollar store here they sell fairly durable rip offs of the Brio wooden train sets for ¼ the price of the real thing. We’ve been talking about taking some home with us, and we even bought a few of the trains. This weekend I found a store that had all the pieces in stock, so we bought a whole set, complete with six train cars, two bridges, and a little station with a red roof. He has been playing with it all day. It’s a good toy for when a parent isn’t feeling well.
While Callan and I were napping this afternoon an Easter Package came from Melissa’s parents, which gave her the opportunity to open it up and hide the Easter eggs before Callan woke up. It was very cute watching him find the conspicuously placed eggs out in our front yard. It reminded me of Easter’s at my house when I was a child.
Our Easter Baskets were always hid somewhere in the house by droopy eyed parents who had gotten up extra early to play Easter Bunny. There was always a basket in the oven, usually one in the TV hutch, and sometimes one in the dryer. Because there were five of us kids at home, the baskets were labeled with our names, and it was always a bummer to find someone else’s first.
The contents of our baskets were unique as well. With a brother and sister that were diabetic, sweets at our house were a rarity. In addition to the regular choclate eggs and other candies, our baskets contained a box of Fruit Loops, or Lucky Charms, or Captain Crunch—all cereals that our mother wouldn’t let us have on regular occasions. I also remember our mother often inviting strangers to our house for Easter dinner and other occasions. It has been almost six years since I lived at home full time, but I was always impressed and still am at my mother’s willingness to open our home to people who didn’t have family’s to spend holidays with. I don’t know if it was Easter, but I remember mother inviting an older foreign man who worked at the Burger King near her office to come for dinner.
There is a feast prepared for all of us in the mansion of our Father, one that we, through the grace of Christ, have been invited to attend. The invitation is extended to all, regardless of race, gender, or religion. There is always a seat saved for us at his table, and he is merely waiting for us to decide we’re not too busy to show up. Happy Easter!