It was a big Easter for Clara. She had her first Easter egg hunt, her first jelly bean, her first cold with a nasty cough, and her first pee in the toilet. She woke up late this morning around 8:00 a.m., which gave us enough time to fill and hide her twelve plastic eggs with a couple Jolly Rancher jelly beans and a Cadbury chocolate egg. I’ll say that Aaron is very in tune with how a two-year-old thinks. He knew exactly how to hide those eggs. While I hid them under a bunch of toys or nestled deep in the toe of her boot, Aaron opted for the outside the pillow and next to the dog bowl options. She had a great time finding his eggs, and with a little extra supervision, she turned up my six, too.
Lately, we’ll ask Clara if she wants to take off her pj’s and diaper from the night and use the potty when she wakes up. It’s sort of like when we ask her if she can say the word “hippopotamus.”
“Clara, can you say ‘hippopotamus?’”
“Yes.” Why, yes, I can, thanks for asking.
“Clara, do you want to pee in your potty?”
“Yes.” But just because I want to do, doesn’t mean I can.
And, that’s it. Apparently, “yes” is not necessarily a word of action. It’s just affirmation, agreement. No promises.
This morning, however, as she was scooting around the house in her bare bottom, she, without ceremony, went to the potty, sat, and peed. After a minute or so, Aaron said he thought he should check to see if she did anything. SURE ENOUGH. I can’t believe how satisfying it was to see 1/4 cup of tinkle in that potty. This afternoon, we had a repeat performance after her nap. So, she’s getting it and we all clapped together for awhile after the big defecation. It was great.
This weekend was also about loving our church. One thing I love is that the Good Friday service is dark, mournful, really sad. With the music and monologues from the different people who witnessed Christ’s death, it’s like going to a funeral. I’ll always remember they played “Will the Circle Be Unbroken?” at my Grandma’s funeral, and similarly, a lot of church members sung some soulful folk songs for Good Friday. Aaron played his guitar, too. For some reason, the Easter service gets all its meaning from the Good Friday one; it’s like I can’t appreciate life until I’ve understood death.
Below I’ve posted some pictures from Clara on Palm Sunday. She’s wearing the prettiest dress from Grandma Nancy and Grandpa Alan. This morning, right around the time we found the tenth egg, our camera officially took its last picture. Somewhere someone has a picture of Clara in her Easter dress on their cell phone, and once we get another camera, I suspect she’ll gladly dress up again for an Easter reprise.
How the love for that little one just gets bigger and bigger.
Relishing a jelly bean.
She actually ate about three jelly beans before she started both to spit her half-chewed beans into my hand and to pass around her loot to Aaron and me. Here she’s offering one to Aaron.
It was a wonderful Easter weekend. Aaron filled out a lot of job applications to prepare for our big move south. We had ham, asparagus, and potatoes. Clara’s been a little feverish with a cough but a good sport all day, nonetheless. Just the normal family stuff that you never knew could make you so happy.