Every Easter I make a plan to pick out the kids' outfits at least the day before if not earlier in order to avoid the mad scramble to find clean, presentable spring outfits for everyone. Why is it important to look good on Easter, you ask? I blame peer pressure. Everyone else looks so lovely. I feel like the normal wear whatever you want approach just isn't acceptable.
And despite my plans every year, it doesn't happen. I sleep in, roll out of bed and tell the kids to get dressed. I say "Wear something nice for Easter" and they come downstairs wearing something ridiculous and I tell them to go back and try again.
This year was no different. Mya, true to form, had the perfect Easter outfit picked out a week before Easter. But Addie came down in her super fancy bright red sequence-covered Christmas dress. Angus put on some athletic shorts and crocs and Winter came down in a green Scooby Do t-shirt and black leggings. I sent them all back up one by one.
That's when things went south. Angus burst into tears because he hates pants. Winter burst into tears because she "doesn't have any dresses that aren't dumb" and Addie was upset that she couldn't wear her favorite special dress. No one had any nice shoes and my hair was NOT cooperating. And the dress I picked out did not look like I had remembered. The hair thing may be what set me off. Hard to say.
I proceeded to lose it. Yelling at whoever crossed my path, mumbling curse words under my breath and scaring Dan a bit. It was totally my own doing. The whole thing. I know Angus hates pants and needs a conversation the day before he has to wear them which may or may not include a bribe. I know Winter doesn't like any of her dresses and also needs to be warned ahead of time if I'm going to require her to wear something other than black leggings. And I know that Addie doesn't know the difference between spring fancy and Christmas fancy and will pick Christmas attire 10 out of 10 times any day of the year when given the choice.
And the guilt started to set in because it was Easter morning of all mornings. A time when we remember Christ's resurrection. A good Christian mom would be singing hymns while making breakfast and reminding her children of that glorious morning when they found the tomb empty and the angel declared, "He has risen, just as He said!" (Matt 28:6)
But not this mom. This mom was yelling at her children, stomping around, slamming doors, and grounding them for not being on board when I completely changed up our normal Sunday church attire. Dan, who usually asks for my opinion on his outfit, steered clear of me entirely. He did tell me I looked pretty and I rolled my eyes because I hated my hair and my dress.
Five minutes before it was time to leave, I noticed that Angus had a big smudge of green something on his only acceptable button-up shirt that happened to be white. I'm pretty sure it was avocado from Dan's breakfast but I have no proof of that. Dan did help him get dressed. Sorry honey. I really should never buy white clothes, ever. So I opted for the only other button-up shirt. Navy blue with white stars. Appropriate for Easter? Not exactly. More like 4th of July. Did it match his gray shorts? Not really. But I had no choice. I was running out of time. Easter is a popular service and if you don't get there early, you're way in the back, possibly without a seat and we're front row people. And Dan hates to be late to church.
In a half mad, half frantic frenzy, I pulled all of my dresses out of the closet as the kids were piling into the car, settled on a more flattering dress and off to church we went. One big happy family. On the way up the church steps Winter and I apologized to each other and I un-grounded her. Then, we took a pic in front of the church.
A true testament to the fact that you really never know what's going on behind the pics on Instagram and Facebook. Lots of people commented on what a lovely family picture it was. I felt like a big phony. Look at me pretending to be a sweet mom on Easter with her nicely dressed hubby and little people. "This old thing?" I would respond to ladies who complimented my dress.
This, of course, is not my normal behavior. I just bring it out for special occasions.
And you know me, I can't help but tell the truth. And I'm thankful that Jesus still loves me, this I know.
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