I'm a little late getting my "cute kid all dressed up for Easter" pictures posted, but at least I'm getting them up now. Yes, this is as good as it gets as far as being all spiffed up.
That's my boy. Crazy hair, a dirty shirt sleeve from who-knows-what, and a candy in his mouth blocking his smile, but it was the only way I could get him to stand still long enough for me to snap a few pictures. Still, I adore him!
And here are both of my boys looking splendid:
I have always loved holidays, but having a child of my own has taken my excitement about celebrating to a new level. Especially now that Will is old enough to understand some of the traditions and fun activities associated with things like Easter (although I'm still working on helping him understand the deeper meaning of the holiday), I am so excited to introduce him to all the things I loved about Easter so much when I was little.
It didn't take him long to catch the vision of the Easter egg hunt. On Saturday evening we went to a neighbor's house for a party/hunt, and without any prompting, he started picking up eggs and candy and putting them in his basket. Apparently, there is an innate understanding of the value of candy-filled eggs.
On Sunday, when he woke up from his nap, Graham had left a trail of Easter eggs across the backyard leading to his basket of goodies behind the shed.
With every egg that he found, he exclaimed "OH!" with more and more excitement until he could hardly contain himself.
At first, he wanted to eat the candy inside each egg before going on to the next one, but we finally convinced him that he could eat them later and we would save them for him.
There is something magical about watching my child experiencing something for the first time, especially something that holds so many magical memories from my own childhood.
Of course, he and Daddy had to try out the silly string that was in his basket. Will thought it was fun, as long as it didn't touch him.
We had some of Graham's family over for dinner (which of course I forgot to photograph), and I even made a successful batch of Easter bread (a traditional Russian food). As I was kneading the dough, I told Graham, "this is the kind of cooking that feeds my soul". That's what holidays do for me. They feed my soul with familiar smells, tastes, sights, feelings of love, reminders of things that are important to me. They remind me of where I came from and who I want to be. They give me opportunities to share those traditions with my children. They bring everything full circle.