Since we had a pretty traumatic Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year, I was excited to celebrate Easter Sunday with a newfound appreciation for the significance of the cross and the empty tomb. Lately, I have spent a great deal of time in the Word, and it has TRANSFORMED the way I view the events of the past several months…and even the past decade. I plan to share so much of this with you guys in the future. But, for now, I just want to say that God is good. Even when our circumstances are not.
(I thought she said this post was about fashion. I didn’t come here to get theologically flash mobbed.)
The four of us got dolled up in our Sunday best and went to a new church in Kansas City that we visited once before. We believe it’s the place God has called us to attend the remainder of our time in Kansas, and we’re pretty excited to get “plugged in” to the various ministries they offer.
Unfortunately, their current building does not accommodate the entire congregation at once (they have two services), so they held their Easter service in a brand new, seminary chapel just down the road. Which was great…except that there was no nursery provided because the facility is still under construction. Which means that I managed to say, “JJ do NOT poke holes in their new seats with that pencil” and “Averi, please stop biting the children in front of us” somewhere close to 3,000 times. And THAT is church with a 2- and a 1-year-old. Thank goodness they post the sermons online.
After church we headed over to our absolute favorite Mexican restaurant in Kansas City and had a feast of chips, salsa and Diet Coke. As is my custom in Mexican restaurants, I was pretty much full by the time my meal arrived. I gave up Coke (all soda is called “Coke” when you’re from Atlanta) for Lent, and it took a whole lot of prayer to get through those 40 days. I really only crave Coke when I eat Mexican, or pizza, or popcorn, or chips, or French fries, or anything salty. Also, any time there is a soda fountain available or when I’m at a movie, or driving, or writing, or shopping.
So pretty much always.
Anyhow, the entire point of this post was to get you to the part after church. And after I floated out of the Mexican restaurant. And after my 4-hour nap.
Four. Hour. Nap.
Just let that sink in…
I woke up in a fog. Meaning, my husband and kids had to drag me out of bed while it was still daylight. Brian reminded me that I wanted to take some pictures of us all in our Sunday clothes. So, we suited back up in our Easter attire—only this time with some pretty impressive bed head all around.
Next year, everyone gets a hat.
We walked down the street to my friend Staci’s house so that her husband, Craig, could snap some family photos of us on their front porch. (I frequently take family photos at other people’s homes so that I don’t have to clean my own. It saves me loads of time.)
When we strolled up to their nice, clean house, Craig took one look at my little Averi and said, “Awwww how sweet…she looks like a little, old lady!”
And, you know, I tried to get offended by his comment, but I just couldn’t. Because, oh my goodness, HE’S RIGHT!
Now, don’t get me wrong, I LOVE those shoes and the matching purse from BabyGap. Actually, her entire outfit is from BabyGap. I’m not a huge fan of “babyish” baby clothes. Or decor (much to my mother’s dismay). And their stuff is SO very cute and classic. But without all the frilly, girly stuff that makes me have flashbacks to a childhood spent in appliqué dresses.
And don’t even get me started on smocked clothing! Because I offend someone every time I get on a smocking rant.
My point is that with Averi’s outfit I was going for a “Jackie O” look…and not so much a greeter at Walmart look.
Not that there’s anything wrong with Walmart greeter fashion. It just has a bit less “Jackie O-ness” to it.
And here I was trying to avoid the trauma I suffered at the hands of my own mother’s fashion sense. And then I go and dress her up like she’s headed to the bingo hall.
I suppose I should do a little less shopping and a bit more saving for future therapy sessions.
“It’s okay, Averi. Mommy dressed me like a leprechaun.”
Oh, but they’re all three so cute I can hardly stand it!
(By the way, Brian, I don’t think you look like an old lady or a leprechaun. But you were pretty brave to let me dress you.)
Brian and I decided not to celebrate Easter this year with egg hunts, or egg dying, or plastic eggs, or bunnies, or sugar comas. Instead, we took our little, old lady and our leprechaun to church and out for Mexican food.