Dyeing Eggs Is for the Birds (I Like Birds)

Every year.

Every year I think, “Well, we have to dye eggs! Because that’s what you do at Easter time!”

Easter Eggs, 2013

It’s as if some Men in Black mind eraser comes and wipes my mind clear of the hassle and mess and whining and fuss and general fail that is dyeing eggs. Every. Single. Year.

Easter Eggs, 2013

And every single year, I get everything all set up with the boys and my husband.

Easter Eggs, 2013

And every single year, we fail. Nothing ever ends up as it is intended. The eggs are never as bright or as shiny or as perfect or as pretty or as whatever as I initially set out to achieve.

But every single year… we get something unique

Easter Eggs, 2013

…forcing me to remember that perfection is totally overrated. You might start out going for the perfect Easter egg, whatever that means. Somewhere in the midst of not having enough vinegar and putting too much water in the cups because you didn’t read all of the directions before you started in the first place and more whining and the dog licking lemon juice off of your slipper and more whining and much parental sighing, you might end up with something kind of cool. Like accidentally super-pasteled with randomly spotted and striped tie-dyed eggs.

Easter Eggs, 2013

All that said, someone point me to this post the day before I say we’re going to dye eggs next year so I can buy enough vinegar, only put a half cup of water in each cup, and, I don’t know, leave town or something.

 

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Unprepared for Easter — or Are We?

Bible Time

After my eleven mile run on Sunday, I collapsed on the couch with a bottle of water while my husband watched some of The Bible on The History Channel. They were reairing previous episodes of the epic miniseries to lead up to that night’s new episode. Moses was just getting ready to part the Red Sea when LittleBrother wandered into the living room.

“Who’s that?”

“Moses.”

“What’s he doing?”

“He’s about to part the Red Sea.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? Go read your Bible,” I joked.

“I don’t have a Bible.”

Oops?

“Well, I have a baby Bible.”

He wandered to his room and came back with The Baby Bible Storybook. I mean, it has baby right in the title. I helped him find a story about Moses and read it with him. As I finished, I was forced — once again — to realize that our two sons are very different. We didn’t gift our older son with a real Bible until after he learned how to read. It’s not like we didn’t have lots of other Bible-like things — like the Veggie Tales Story Bible and Baby’s First Bible and the Jesus Storybook Bible. But BigBrother, when comparing their ages, learned to read this coming summer whereas LittleBrother has been reading for nearly a year now. I forget that a lot.

And so I asked him, “Do you want a real Bible?”

“Yes!”

I smiled. I told him to wait as I walked back to our bedroom, went to one of my secret hiding places and pulled out The Adventure Bible which I was so happy to get from Zondervan this past year at BlogHer ’12 specifically for this purpose. I dusted off the cover; it’s been sitting since August and, well, dust happens. I probably could have given it to him then, but I think I was in denial for quite some time that the kid was actually reading since we didn’t work with him nearly as much as we worked with our older son.

I walked out and handed him the Bible.

“This is for me?” His hands moved over the cool, dust-free cover.

“Yes, Bubba.”

“Will you read something to me?”

Will I read something to him? Of course I will.

Holy Week has kept us busy with Resurrection Eggs and extra church services and planning for Easter with my family and baseball practice and snow and school and a performance at school and baking cookies for said performance at school and on and on and on. While I haven’t yet purchased anything other than two books for each boy’s Easter baskets (as in not one jelly bean, not one chocolate egg; NOTHING), I did download the Easter Reading Chart. In the evenings after dinner, we all get our Bibles and take turns reading a verse from the day’s reading. Then we talk a little bit about theological concepts that are far above my ability to adequately explain. Shortly before the conversation veers back to Star Wars territory, I sit back and watch them flip through their Bibles, watch them run fingers over the maps in the back and trace their fingers along the rivers. My heart feels full.

Bible Time

I may be unprepared for Easter morning treats right now, too close for my Type-A personality, but I must say that this has been our greatest Easter season thus far.