Easter Hodgepodge

Easter. Charlotte's face is just so gorgeously Charlotte-y to me in this pic.

Well, when your birthday lands on Easter, the day bounces back and forth among . . . Resurrection! Ack, I'm 35! Easter dresses! Oooh, look, birthday cards!

A hodgepodge of a day, if you will.

Phew, what a whirlwind these past couple of weeks have been. Per usual, work is intensely nuts because of our upcoming giant conference next week. To boot, since February I've been in charge of all things related to "worship and the arts" at church, which just so happens to include such Holy Week events as Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, and Good Friday.

Palm Sunday = easy peasy lemon squeezy. I ordered the palm fronds, they arrived in time, and Charlotte and Lorelei had a ball handing them out to each person as they entered the church on March 20.

Palm fronds.

Maundy Thursday . . . well, I ended up punting that to Chris. Meaning, he went instead of me. It involves a straightforward, simple meal and some singing. Or so I'm told. Chris enjoys it, so I sent him. It ran itself, I think. All I had to do was buy a pound of olives at Whole Foods.

Good Friday was the Big Deal. Working with the music director, a lovely service was put together. Technically called a Tenebrae service, I referred to it more than once as Lessons and Carols, Good Friday Edition.

I had myself worked into a tizz over this service, corralling readers, putting together the script, creating bulletins/programs, finding music, figuring out where the heck the candles and candle holders were, and so on. Chris chalked up my Good Friday anxiety to my hesitation to delegate. I pointed out that it was the very fact I had delegated the entire thing (except for my part) to 8 or so readers and the music director that had me wound up.

Um, yeah. Nobody missed an entrance. It went beautifully.

I brought Charlotte, who was a tad wiggly, but she had been asking questions and I didn't want to cut her off from the somber grown-up service. I received good feedback from folks that following Sunday, saying they found it moving, they "felt" it. I admitted I was too distanced, keeping one eye on the script and the other on Charlotte. For no good reason, though, because the people of this church are pros at swooping in and helping to get done whatever needs to get done. And if something goes wrong, well, you crack a joke and NOBODY CARES. They're like the least judgmental people EVER.

After six years, I'm still not used to it.

These are the people who CHEERED when my three-year-old emerged with her pants and undies around her ankles, proudly shouting, "I POOPED IN THE TOILET!"

And that story WILL make it into Lorelei's wedding toast. You have my word.

On Saturday, Chris and I went out to celebrate my birthday at a restaurant I've always loved. We had a lovely, fantastic time. We've actually never gone out for my birthday. Like, sans children. So it was especially nice.

Easter dawned. The girls wore matching frilly dresses, because they love to match. Seeing as how the window for exploiting this seems limited, I happily bought the matching dresses.

I had nursery duty, so I missed actual church, but the traditional Easter breakfast and egg hunt brought together a good-sized, happy crowd.

Pics here: http://www.thishofmannlife.com/Easter-2016/

Chris made our tradition Easter dinner: ham, German potato salad, and something green.

And that means that I set my Easter table.

Last year, I went bold, bright, and whimsical. It was one of my most favorite tables I had ever done.

This year, THIS was my very favorite table. Forget whimsy. To hell with cute.

My mom sent me a floral centerpiece for my birthday that mimicked the soft peaches, greens, and ivories I was shooting for with this year's table. PERFECT. The table was softly colored and springy, with a whiff of vintage. I just loved it. Oh, and one more thing. Those napkin rings? Charlotte stumbled upon them months ago at Bed, Bath and Beyond and begged me to buy them because they were "JUST SO BEAUTIFUL." I sighed, finding them gaudy. But what the heck, they were in the clearance bin and less than a buck apiece.

And then dang if I didn't go and realize they were PERFECT for this year's table. Obviously, I involved Charlotte in doing the table. She LOVES to help make stuff fancy. I love that about her.

A lovely Easter and a swell birthday. But Easter hoopla aside, the highlight MIGHT have been when I got a guilt-free afternoon nap when Chris took the girls on an errand.

People. A NAP.

It was glorious.

Okay, book time. That sound you hear is awkward gear shifting.

Lorelei, my darling girl, has been having us read and reread books about tickling and gymnastics. Two of her favorite things, I'll have you know, so no big surprise there. She's getting a bit miffed that she can't yet read. We (and by "we," I mean Charlotte and me) have been giving her the job of page-turning, as Charlotte and I often co-read a book to Lorelei, but alas, my youngest child has figured out that this is a token gesture. So, Charlotte has Lorelei "read" the parts she knows by memory. It's amazing how well this tactic works. Charlotte is going to be an incredible school teacher someday. Or perhaps mommy. She's one of those rare people who could have five kids and remain genuinely happy, I bet.

For our Long Book, Charlotte and I have been reading Beezus and Ramona. I read--or had read to me--all of the Ramona books when I was a young girl. Entirely at school, I think. Beverly Cleary never penetrated the Opp household, as I recall. Oh, those books were good in the mid-1980s, but they're even better now. Charlotte is absolutely in LOVE with Beezus and her little Lorelei-esque sister. Obviously, the next Ramona book is on order from the library. It's amazing that a book written in 1955 is still so relevant to big sisters and mothers and kids and  . . . well, readers. Cleary is a genius.

Me, I'm reading The Secret Chord by Geraldine Brooks, whom I adore. The story is about King David, and if you are at all familiar with Jeff Buckley's music, you can put together "the secret chord" part of the title. Which is genius. Because Brooks is a genius. I'm still early in the novel, so the jury is technically still out. I also started Elizabeth the Queen, a new (sort of ) biography of Elizabeth II. It's fascinating so far.

So, there you have it. Charlotte is on spring break, which has brought it's own special lump of challenges. Perhaps I'll write of my mothering failures that spring break 2016 has brought forth before bolting for Chicago next week. We shall see.