oh yeah.  pulled off with a few last minute pranks including a phone call to jerry where i convinced him the van was overheating, we did some april fooling.

:: :: ::

“i took all the [special clear] gatorade with me but left you bottled water, micah.”

april fool’s!!!  it’s clear gatorade IN the previously emptied water bottle!

:: :: ::

“guys, you know how dad and i talk about never buying lottery tickets?  well, we thought since the amount was so high this time and we found out that there could be more than one winner, we’d buy a few.  so, guys, scratch off the little spots and if you get three of the same number, we win.”  {scratch, scratch, scratch} “what?  you won?  what?!?!?  no way!!!”

april fool’s!  they are trick cards.  read the fine print.

this one was almost a little much for them….{insert nervous laughter}

:: :: ::

in response to eliza gaining determination to trick me and me getting nervous about what she is capable of, i passed my last trick of the night to jerry.  he helped her plant these on my pizza when i “went to the bathroom before we all sat down and ate together”:

“woa!!!!  cockroaches on my pizza?  what?  i need to call that place!!!  oh april fool’s?  it was you?  t.r.i.c.k.y.”

(and actually, joke’s on me, because those plastic cockroaches left a nasty rubbery flavor)

:: :: ::

and then going to bed tonight, eliza admits that she thinks i must be saving the BIGGEST april fool’s trick for TOMORROW morning when i serve the cool whip milk and jello juice for breakfast because that would be even tricker than doing it on the actual day!

oops.

sorry to disappoint.

remembering one year ago and realizing that by now we’ll have to do the 9 days of eggs.  oops:

i’m not sure if it’s the death, the violence, the injustice, the improbability, the eeriness, the joy that must have exceeded all other, or what…but the easter story is one i grapple with.  i find myself repeatedly putting the stories of the bible into practical terms, tethered out there as something to learn from, and whether they actually happened or not doesn’t matter.  my faith is not determined by that.  somehow at easter i question this.  maybe it’s just harder to see the abstract in death and resurrection.  maybe my “all or nothing” personality wants to kick in.  maybe it should.

i know one thing for sure:  i honor the position of questioning and wondering.  i humbly question god’s mystery.  i humbly wonder who christ was.  but part of why i can do that is because i have something to question and wonder about.   as my children grow older, i have an increasing desire for their foundation to be solid and thick…full of stuff to question and wonder about.  and you know, i don’t think i’ll ever get too old to add a layer to my own foundation.

so, bring on the easter eggs.  (a slip of paper and item hiding in each…also known as resurrection eggs…also known as blasphemous for combining the pagan egg symbol with the story of christ’s resurrection…at which point i want to bellow out:  CAN’T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG?!?!?…)  it was meaningful to me to spend time gathering things for the eggs.  this afternoon i found myself in my driveway sifting through stones looking for flat ones.  the air was warm, old people were walking down the street, the birds were singing, there was a police siren, and i was the only one home…i was present in that moment.

i’m looking forward to a prolonged sense of anticipation…like we have during advent.

so we’ll open one egg, read part of the story and light one more candle each day for the next 12 days.

with the details and layers of the story exposed, i am pretty sure i will hear two things every day:

“yeah, right.  no one knows if that REALLY happened.”

and

“it HAD to have happened.  otherwise none of what we see would even be here!”

and i will agree with both of them.

oh, and there will be a chocolate each day too. : )

“Now let the heavens be joyful,
Let earth her song begin:
Let the round world keep triumph,
And all that is therein;
Invisible and visible,
Their notes let all things blend,
For Christ the Lord is risen
Our joy that hath no end.”
– John of Damascus

i’m glad to have arrived home from a couple of days away to seeing that there were a lot of moments of someone feeling awesome.

of course it reminds me of this which makes me laugh out loud every time:

and this:

and what we did at winfield (when we made signs like “are you awesome?” and watched a dude seriously consider the question, nod in self affirmation and pull a “yes” tab).

that was so awesome.

oh, signage, i love you.

things aren’t ever as bad or as good as they seem.     -jerry

if you know jerry, you can totally hear that coming out of his mouth.  his view on the world stuns me and brings me back to a solid place time and time again.  i, who swings from one extreme to the other in mere moments, is grounded by that statement over and over.

i’m not interested in abandoning my passionate {this is the best moment of my life/i can’t believe the world has come to this/jesus himself was in the grocery store/evil itself must be running the show/of course we should cut all the daffodils in the yard and put them in jars all over the house/i can’t tolerate one single bit of apathy/yes, i just spent an hour arranging my special shelf into rainbow order} view of life, but when it swallows up my true self, i’m grateful for the grounding.

THESE photos taken 24 hours apart sums us up:

so, with memories of an early birthday supper already had, the hope of our eggs hatching, the anticipation of opening the cards and presents that have gathered on the piano,  a commitment to also seeing the world as you do,

happy birthday, jerry.  i love you.

Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence.
Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance.
Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence.
Winter passes and one remembers one’s perseverance.

Yoko Ono

period.

it seems i’ve heard the phrase, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” a few times again lately.

my first thought:  well, it might make you stronger.  but it might make you weaker, or sadder, or happier, or more complete, or more open, or closed, or a multitude of other things on the way to strength.  the point is, it makes you.

so, what doesn’t kill us makes us.  and frankly, what kills us in the end might make us too, but i leave that mystery to be.

when i open that book of my life and turn the pages carefully, allowing myself to read each chapter and sentence and phrase, i know it has all made me. every strong, weak, joy filled, desperate, settled, unsure, confident, scared, steady, shaky part of me.

and it’s quite remarkable to reclaim it all.

when there is fresh air, food, comfort, color, learning, the promise of energy, music, creativity, calm, safety, humor…it is a happy place.

i’m grateful for a job that brings me energy, time away with women who reminded me of the truth, and coming home to a family that brings me core-felt joy.  from my belly, ahhhhhhhhhhhh…

i’m looking forward to spending my day with over 20 women-to-be.

eliza had a birthday party for the 1st graders in her class.  in honor of the work they do caring for the chickens at their school and our gift to her (13 fertilized bantam eggs/incubator), we had a chicken party.

{i found out that if you cut a paper lunch sack to size, it will go through your printer}

the bunting is made paper-doll style from paper lunch sacks too.  it unintentionally looks a lot like chicken beaks (thanks for noticing that, cristy!).

the chicken snacks:  chicken in a bisquit crackers (wow, those taste like noodle soup), puffed corn (since chickens eat corn too), potato sticks (known at this party as a haystack).

we had a brownie cake with egg colored jelly beans (that they sorted for their own pieces) and sparkly juice.

when the girls arrived, they did some egg shaped scratch art.

instead of pre-filled goody bags, they went on a hunt for the different items…bandanas, chick toys, bubblegum eggs, chocolate chicks, egg shaped chalk…

and then we brought out the cascarones (confetti filled egg shells)!!

happy birthday!!!!  crack an egg over your head!!!

we went through 3 dozen in a few minutes.

i got one:

and daddy got one:

and the remains remain.

we made a chicken obstacle course…

across the plank, up the plank and down the slide…with a little hop scotch in between.

we are so grateful for the joy these friends brought to our home.  it was cluckin’ good time.

and i assume that the years for themed birthday parties are soon to come to an end…

sunday morning, on the couch, both tuned in to screens:

are you going to lay back soon?

what?

you’re leaning forward.  are you going to lay back soon?  

uuuuuh, no, i’m going to get up.

okay, i just needed to know.

:: :: :: ::

it is the mostly selfish part of my gut that doesn’t recognize the sheer beauty that this is.  to be watched and wanted is nothing to take for granted.

the recurring requests for my whereabouts in the house, the slight panic that can ensue when i’ve gone outside without announcing myself, the nearly constant contact of a foot or an arm or a full body lean.

i can cringe and spin in thoughts of how i have hovered too much, helped knit that strong leash that still tugs. i can hear defensive thoughts in my mind:  i tried to get them to take pacifiers!  i tried!

and i know that it’s good, it’s fine, they’ll find their ways, we didn’t mess them up more than can be fixed, we’ve given them tools and encouragement to notice what’s lacking and make moves to heal {and i am actually proud to say one of my children informed me that even though life is really good, it’s going to be so much better when she’s a parent…that IS the way it should be}, on and on and on.

i will treasure those moments not only in my mind but the corners of my gut and heart.

and to continue the notion that there is something to learn from everything, i’m now thinking of this short leash concept for my own life.  what if i had a child-like awareness of the divine?

how often do i wonder where the divine peace of god is in my life?  is it there?  is it here?  wait, is it RIGHT here?  is it RIGHT here or is it across the room?  does it see me?  is it watching me?  can it hear my announcements of where i’m going for a few minutes?  can it hear my announcements of my return? do i have to go somewhere to find it?  where is it going next?  can i just lay here and touch it?  can i keep going with my day but walk within a few feet of it?  can i venture farther away but call out just to make sure it’s close?  can i keep talking without even needing a response?

and maybe i’m moving towards that place of action…to shortening my leash to all that is good and right and holy, trusting that there is more presence and patience than i will ever exhibit.

{and just to keep balance, let me now admit that ever since i first typed the word “leash” i’ve had “who let the dogs out” in my head…and i probably will all day…WOOF-woof-woof}