The three things I want our kids to know about Easter are, in order, Jesus, candy, and new clothes. There was a basket of candy in the living room Sunday morning with new clothes all laid out next to it but no talk of any Easter bunny bringing it, it was just there. There was also a small toy in it for each of our kids. I used a super easy Spring Friends pattern to make little chicks the perfect size for our kids’ little hands that each have their own little egg to hide in. I went with the chicks instead of the bunnies because I didn’t want to have to explain to Iddo that her bunny was in an egg but bunnies don’t really come from eggs.
I must say our cute little chicks are a lot better than this very anatomically incorrect chick I saw at the store. What is this thing? Explaining that bunnies don’t come from eggs would easier than explaining that chickens don’t have four legs. Unless this represents some new genetically modified chicken that will have four drumsticks. He looks a little concerned at the thought too.
Iddo has been intent on finding Jesus for a while now. For over a year she’s pointed him out in every picture she sees him in. Christmas 2014 she wasn’t that into the baby Jesus though. Since then we added two babies to our family and she now spends a lot of her time taking care of her babies just like she sees me do. As Christmas approached last year she took an intense interest in the baby Jesus. She took great care of the baby Jesus figure in a plush nativity we have. And she loved to point out the baby Jesus in the Christmas books we have.
One book was The Tale of the Three Trees. When the first tree became a manger she asked, “Where’s the baby?” We easily identified the baby Jesus in the illustration.
The second tree becomes a fishing boat and she again asked, “Where’s the baby?” She was able to identify the grown Jesus calming the storm in the illustration.
The third tree becomes a rough beam. As the illustrations showed a man bent over carrying the beam and then a cross on the hill, Iddo asked a third time, “Where’s the baby?”
I thought of my babies, how no matter how big they get they will always be my babies and it will always hurt me when they hurt.
And I thought of Mary at the cross. That was her baby. We know God sent an angel to comfort his Son in the Garden of Gethsemane (Luke 22:43). I have to believe he did at least that to comfort the mother of his Son as a sword pierced through her soul (Luke 2:35).
Two weeks ago we put up our hummingbird feeders. We’ve really enjoyed watching the birds come to our suet and seed feeders so this was something new for Iddo. It immediately prompted her to ask what a hummingbird was and where they lived. We quickly looked up some photos of hummingbirds and their nests and I decided that after her nap we’d spend the afternoon exploring hummingbirds and learning about them.
When she woke up we hummed our favorite songs and we flapped our wings (arms) real fast.
We tasted sugar out of a bowl and used straws like their long beaks to drink some water. The straws were a big hit.
We were going to make soft little nests out of blankets but we got too involved with our art projects instead. We made little pompom hummingbirds (idea from here) using pompoms, wiggly eyes, toothpicks, and cupcake papers. And we did footprint hummingbirds (roughly inspired by this) and then she drew the black beak and orange eyes on it and drew a blue flower for it too.
We finished by reading one of our favorite books, “Little Green.”
Two days later when we saw our first hummingbird at the feeder she enthusiastically pointed out that it was using it’s long beak like a straw to get a drink.
But the best payoff was that night while Brett was putting her to bed and she told him, “Momma is my friend because she played with me while I made hummingbirds.”
Iddo waits anxiously every garbage day for the recycling truck to come. The driver of the recycling truck is great at noticing us out there waiting for him and he honks and has the truck wave at us. Iddo is at once terrified and excited by the big, loud truck.
Lately he has been coming later in the day and we’ve missed him because we go to the Children’s Museum that afternoon. But last week he came before lunch and we were able to go watch him. And I videoed him coming so that on the days when we do miss him Iddo can still watch. We love this video because Iddo starts by wanting to go back inside. But at the end she’s super excited about having seen him and proudly says “I was not afraid.”
I’m pretty sure that’s how I face most big, loud, new, scary things in my life. I just want to go back inside. But in the end, I’ll have gotten over my fear and thought it was at the very least an educational adventure. Until the next week when I might be afraid when the big, loud thing comes down the street again.
Our Leap Day was a hopping success. We did a lot of fun things to celebrate.
Iddo loves to jump. So that was a given. We jumped and hopped. Shimri and Shimei bounced the best they could.
Iddo helped me mix up a blue Jell-O pond and then we made some frogs out of apples, grapes, frosting, and M&Ms for dinner. They were super yummy.
Iddo also colored several index cards and then I folded them into jumping frogs that we used to decorate the table at dinner.
Dinner was “frog” leg tacos. We cut chicken strips so they’d be more frog legged shaped and then cooked them with some Italian herbs to give them a slight green hue. Since people say frog legs taste like chicken we just said our chicken tasted like frog legs.
Dad and Iddo picked up some chocolate bunnies at the store this weekend. Technically I think they are supposed to be for Easter, but whatever. They are chocolate. And they jump.
We don’t have a frog cookie cutter so our Family Home Evening cookies were bunny cookies too.
What Leap Day means to the calendar is completely beyond any of our kids, but Iddo definitely knew it was Leap Day. When Brett came home from work she greeted him by saying, “Daddy, it’s Leap Day! I’m jumpin’ up and down!” And she was definitely jumping up and down.
The Pueblo people of New Mexico make a type of pottery doll called the Storyteller. It is a person sitting with their mouth open telling a story, with children crawling all over their arms, legs, back, all listening to the story. I’ve loved the image since living in New Mexico as a child. I even have a small one that has four children on it.
I love the idea even more now because it is an image I live any time I sit down, and especially if I sit on the floor. Shimri is a total momma’s girl and needs to be near me as much as possible. Shimei is a complete cuddle bug and loves to crawl over and put his head in my lap so I’ll rub his back while he cuddles his washcloth and sucks his thumb. And Iddo needs me to read her books or sit still so she can climb me and even she needs to put her head in my lap for a cuddle at times too.
Sometimes they get frustrated because it doesn’t seem like my lap is quite big enough for all three of them. Yet somehow they all manage to find a spot with Mom. And together we are telling a fabulous story.
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Help us help other families find their stories. Donate on behalf of me or Brett towards Resolve.
Next week will mark 10 years since Brett sent me an email for the very first time and we became aware of each other’s existence in this world. That email is the stuff legends are made out of. The good kind. He wasn’t the only guy who sent me an email on that site. There were others. Each legendary in his own way, and none of them good. One in particular stood out. His screen name was “The Very Best” and his profile pic was of his abs (at least I assume they were his). Our email exchange went as follows.
The Very Best:
are you sure u didnt steal your pics from one of my dreams?
Me:
Just some advice for the future.
A line like that doesn’t work in a bar unless the girl is drunk and easy. Don’t try such stuff here.
Also, your message is the first impression someone has of you. You should make sure it is your best self. It takes less than a second to make sure you have proper capitalization and punctuation in your message. With proper grammar and spelling, even a cheesy patronizing line can come off as somewhat acceptable.
If you think you are, in fact, the very best, maybe you should try acting like it.
The Very Best:
A line like that doesn’t work in a bar unless the girl is drunk and easy. Don’t try such stuff here.
1. I don’t think that was a line of any sort. Mind helping me find the appropriate definition of the word ‘line’ in that context?
2. this isnt a bar, and what do you know about being drunk or easy, and what does and doesnt work?
3. I’ve had quite a lot of success introducing myself ‘here’ are you sure i shouldnt?
Also, your message is the first impression someone has of you.
actually, people generally tend to see pictures before they see text. my picture was the first impression you could have had of me.
You should make sure it is your best self. It takes less than a second to make sure you have proper capitalization and punctuation in your message.
that might be just one second(im giving you the benefit of the doubt that it is indeed only one second. Its probably closer to 2 or 3) but over time that 1* second adds up. if i were to send an average of 50 messages per day over the course of 25 years that would be 77 days spent making sure my punctuation was perfect. if i lived another 50 years that would be 154 days. to a man about to die on his death bed do you think he would remember all those capitalizations and correctly punctuated sentences, or do you think hed much rather have an extra 5.14 months to live?
With proper grammar and spelling, even a cheesy patronizing line can come off as somewhat acceptable.
there you go. i believe you miswrote when you writ patronizing. unless of course you believe by complimenting your pictures i was condescending.
If you think you are, in fact, the very best, maybe you should try acting like it.
im inherently the very best, acting isnt required. you cant really say something is not the very best unless youve tried it. now can you? i wuve u.
As entertaining as that was, that was as far as it ever got. He was not, in fact, the very best. Brett, on the other hand, had correct spelling, punctuation, and capitalization in his message. A very good first impression.
Two weeks ago I read a report of a study showing that American undergraduates think it is insincere to punctuate a text message. And now we have a sample of convenience making the rest of us feel like our text messages our insincere if we use punctuation. Undergraduates are easy to do studies with because they are easier to round up than normal people who don’t hang out all day at universities with nothing to do but take surveys about text messaging.
There are no undergraduates at our house. We punctuate our text messages. And some of us do it with great gusto. Sometimes the punctuation is the entire text message (Iddo gets to send voice-to-text messages to Brett and Grandma Giles).
I am an educator and PhD. I quilt, belly dance, run, read, and try to grow things. I am a Mormon. I am infertile. I am a daughter, sister, aunt, grand-daughter, friend, wife, and mom.
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I am an educator and PhD. I quilt, belly dance, run, read, and try to grow things. I am a Mormon. I am infertile. I am a daughter, sister, aunt, grand-daughter, friend, wife, and mom.
Brett L. Dennis
Mama g
Giggles
AmandaStretch
