Real, or Just Some Guy in a Bunny Suit?

Here is one of our family's favorite photos from Easters long ago. That's my youngest son on the left, snuggled into his Daddy's side--screaming with joy, his gaping mouth chocolate-stained. Sons #3 (middle) and #4 (right) are looking on, sharing this priceless holiday moment with their baby brother.My middle son is holding up proof that the Easter Bunny exists and has visited our house: a hollow milk chocolate bunny (which, picky eater that he was, happened to be one of his top ten favorite food items at that point in his life). My baby and my fourth son are apparently having a contest to see who can open his mouth the widest. With five boys, everything was a competition in our household.

Son #5 was just over a year old in this picture, which means that he hadn't yet fully grasped the concept of the Easter Bunny. At this point, he was merely feeding off the excitement around him. And with four older brothers aged six through ten, there was plenty of excitement to go around. But about three Easters later, this little blond cutie would put the kibosh on all the Easter Bunny hoopla once and for all by announcing with utmost seriousness: "There's no bunny. It's just a man in a bunny suit." Sorry, Charlie. He just wasn't buying it. He was not some rube who just fell off the turnip truck. Santa Claus? Sure. He's an actual person, and he has the help of those magical flying reindeer who land his sleigh on the roof so that he can slip down the chimney. It could happen. But the Easter Bunny? A furry little animal hopping around, carrying baskets of candy to every house in the world? How many could he carry in his mouth at a time? One, maybe? Give me a break. (Apparently, my son was more comfortable with the notion of some creepy guy sneaking into our house in an Easter Bunny costume!)

Try as they might, the older boys could not convince my baby, once he reached the advanced age of four or five, that the Easter Bunny was real. By that age, they couldn't convince him to go and see the latest blockbuster Disney or Pixar film with them, either. When he was one and two, "Lion King" was his life, and the VHS tape we owned almost wore out from overuse; but a mere three or four years later, he thought only babies watched animated films--and when the latest one came out in theaters, he refused to go. He was sure that his brothers were only humoring him, pretending to want to see it for his sake. They had about as much success convincing him that they actually liked Disney movies as they did convincing him that the Easter Bunny was not just some random dude in a bunny suit! And the funny thing is, they really did like animated films--in fact, to this day, they like them. When "Lion King" was re-released recently in 3D, most of my baby's older brothers, now in their 20's, went to see it in theaters. (Moreover, son #2, who is 27, owns an extensive collection of kid-friendly DVD's and counts "Aladdin," "Happy Feet," and "How to Train Your Dragon" among his all-time favorite movies!)

I guess my baby has always been an "old soul." My first four sons came along bing-bing-bing-bing--four in four years--and then he was born five whole years after son #4. He was always trying to "catch up" with the big boys. When he was very young, people used to comment that he seemed like a little old man in a child's body. It was very sweet, yet sometimes heartbreaking, to see him trying to leave behind the trappings of babyhood in a hurry so that he could be just like his older brothers.

What my youngest son didn't understand back in his early childhood days was that those brothers he looked up to with such awe and admiration were just a bunch of big kids themselves. And now, at 19, he's a big kid, too. Because in order to be like his brothers, one must have a Peter Pan-like quality and be a die hard fan of Disney/Pixar animation. And he is: when "Lion King" came out in 3D, he wouldn't have missed it for the world! I guess my baby boy is growing up.

Could that mean that he's finally going to start believing in the Easter Bunny?

Good Friday Meditation

...that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him may not die, but may have eternal life. (John 3:16)

Celebrating Holy Thursday

Today is Holy Thursday, the day on which we commemorate Jesus' Last Supper with His apostles on the night before His Passion. The Last Supper was so much more than just a last get-together with friends before the death He knew was coming; at that meal, Our Lord instituted the three pillars of the Catholic Faith: the Sacrament of Holy Communion, the priesthood, and the Mass. On Holy Thursday, Jesus instituted the Catholic Church.

During the Last Supper, Christ blessed the bread and wine with the very same words that Catholic and Orthodox priests use today to consecrate the Body and Blood of Christ during the Divine Liturgy of the Mass. By instructing His disciples to "Do this in memory of Me," He instituted the Mass and made them the first priests.

What an important event in the history of the world! God bless you on this beautiful Holy Week day, as you celebrate Christ's Last Supper and prepare for the joy of Easter Sunday.

Walking with a Purpose

Recently, I bought some new work-out togs made out of that great moisture-wicking material that's so popular these days. I love the top: it gives the illusion that I have a perfect hourglass figure. When I wear it, for the first time since my pre-childbearing days, I appear to have a definitive waist. (I'm sure no one pays the slightest attention to those hot pink panels on the sides...) I think I'm going to have all of my clothes tailored like this, so that I can give the impression of having a Scarlett O'Hara-esque waistline.

I try to work out every day, ever since I learned the depressing fact that women over 50 need to exercise an hour a day...just to MAINTAIN their weight! To shed pounds, they have to cut way back on their food intake, while still performing that hour of daily exercise. Sheesh! Give me a break already!

Anyway, I usually work out at home, indoors, following a routine on a DVD. But sometimes I like to just go outside and power walk, especially if it's a nice day. Well, yesterday it was mild and breezy and sunny, and I decided that I would walk. I usually do the same route, walking about 3 miles total through a grid of neighborhood streets in a development close to our house. I've gotten bored of that route, though. And I got thinking about our forefathers back in the olden days, and how much walking they did. They didn't need to go to the gym and walk on a treadmill, because they pretty much had to walk everywhere. (Kids might walk 5 miles to school and back, uphill both ways, in a foot of snow--like the parents of Baby Boomers such as myself claim they used to do.) There was a time when people didn't walk through random neighborhoods just for the sake of exercise; they walked with a purpose. They had somewhere they needed to go to get something done. Feeling inspired, I came up with a plan: I'd walk toward town and run an errand that would normally involve a car trip, and then walk back.

I'm not sure exactly how far I walked (approximately 3 miles, I believe), but it took me 45 minutes to get to the drugstore, where I picked up some dark chocolate Easter eggs, an Easter treat for my husband and me (having forgotten to get them when I bought the goodies that I mailed out to my boys on Monday). I know it sounds like I defeated the whole purpose of my long walk by buying two bags of chocolates...but I didn't open them up on the spot--they're for EASTER! And incidentally, haven't you heard that dark chocolate is now considered a health food?

I hadn't had any lunch, so after I bought the chocolates, I stopped in at Subway and had a 6" sub and some baked Lays. (Again, it seems like I was defeating the purpose of my walk...but it was well past lunchtime, and I hadn't eaten yet! So get off my back, will ya?)

After lunch, I did the 45-minute return trip, walking at a brisk pace in my Shape Up-style sneakers. (And no joke, on my route there were stretches--both ways--where I had to walk uphill!) I'm not 100% sure if I believe that those newfangled sneakers really do shape up your lower body; but I will say this: long before I hit the home stretch on my walk, my thighs and backside were incredibly sore. And my toes were getting a bit numb. And all I could think of was my daughter-in-law, who has run three marathons (including the elite Boston Marathon), and wonder HOW IN THE WORLD she survived them!

I will never run a marathon, I'm absolutely sure of that. But I may run more errands on foot in the future. Walking with a purpose, I've decided, is a good way to kill two birds with one stone.

Easter Finery for the Twins

Over Christmas vacation, I found some lovely pieces of fabric in the attic of my husband's childhood home. His mom, who died in 2009, was an ambitious and talented seamstress, and she had amassed an impressive collection of fabric in her lifetime. I like to use Mom's fabric whenever possible (with the family's blessings) to sew dresses for my twin granddaughters.

I found one piece that was simply adorable: it's cream-colored cotton, sprinkled all over with light blue flowers, tiny dots, teddy bears, hippos, elephants, ducks, and bunnies. Because of the bunny rabbits, I thought it would be the perfect material out of which to fashion some Easter apparel for my little sweetie pies.

I was dragging my feet, though. I wasn't feeling particularly inspired, and I wasn't sure exactly what pattern to use. Then a few days ago, I was shopping at Wal-Mart and happened upon this pattern for the sweetest little old-fashioned baby bonnet with an appliqued tulip on the side. (Totes adorbs--as all the young whippersnappers are saying these days; don't you agree?) Now I knew just what I was going to make. And I had all the fabric I would need, courtesy of my granddaughters' great-grandma.

Just in case the girls don't have dresses that would match the teddy bear-hippo-elephant-duck-bunny fabric I was planning to use for the bonnets, I decided to whip up some simple matching sundresses. Piece of cake, right?

On Saturday, I cleared the dining room table and laid out all the fabric and patterns, and before I turned in for the night, I had everything pinned and cut out. I was ready to begin assembling the garments on Sunday afternoon. Two quick and easy little dresses and two bonnets: I would be done by bedtime on Sunday night, I figured, and I could mail them out first thing Monday morning.

Sewing tends to go one of two ways for me: either the sewing machine and I become one, everything comes together effortlessly and efficiently, and every step of the process is a joy; or every conceivable thing that can go wrong does, I have to rip out almost every seam and re-do it, the thread knots and jams up in the machine for unfathomable reasons, I poke my fingers with needles and bleed all over the material, and a project that should take four or five hours tops ends up taking two whole days. Unfortunately, this particular project fell into the latter category. It probably didn't help that I was up way past my bedtime on Sunday, and once it got beyond midnight, my brain was turning to mush.

I was up very late ('til almost 4:00 Monday morning, in fact), struggling to create two bonnets that resembled the picture on the pattern package and dresses to match. I got up again a few hours later and got back to work, and I finally finished around lunchtime. The box was in the mail by 2:00 p.m.; it should get there in time for Easter, so the girls' mommy and daddy can dress them in their new duds for Mass if they wish. Here is my porcelain baby doll, Aaron (one of the dolls I made in my dollmaking class back in the 90's), modeling a finished dress and bonnet. They're way too big for him, but I just had to see what that bonnet looked like on a baby's head--and I have to say, I'm liking it!

All I could see when I inspected the final products of my efforts before I packed the dresses and bonnets into the shipping box was all the imperfections, the sloppiness, and the mistakes I'd made; but I have a feeling people won't be checking out every crooked stitch with a magnifying glass. They'll be too busy looking at those precious baby girls! And even though the quality of the Easter finery Grammy made for them is a tad sub-par, I'm sure my granddaughters will look positively adorable when they wear it. I mean seriously, those two little beauties could wear potato sacks, and they'd still be the cutest babies on the block!

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

One man's trash is another man's treasure--and vice versa--when it comes to art. We don't all like the same things, and I suppose that's good--because it would be an awfully boring world if we did.

I myself am not a great fan of modern art. I enjoy a wide variety of styles and artists (although I love Norman Rockwell's minutely detailed, almost photographic paintings, many of the blurry, dreamy works of the Impressionists also speak to me); but I have no use for the paint splotches Jackson Pollock threw at canvas, or for the strange Cubist works of Picasso.

Take the Picasso oil painting shown here, for instance. Titled "Woman's Head" (that poor, poor woman!), it is worth millions of dollars. It was given to Greece by the artist in 1949, in recognition of that country's fight against Nazi Germany. While I applaud Picasso's altruistic gift to the Greeks, I really, REALLY can't see any beauty when I look at this piece. And it is considered priceless by art connoisseurs. I feel as if a small child could render something that looks just like it, and the only people to whom it would be considered priceless would be his parents! Unfortunately, this Picasso was recently stolen from the National Art Gallery in Athens, along with some other valuable works, and that's a shame. But I'm sorry: I just don't like it. At all.

What's more my speed is this sweet Easter greeting card illustration from a bygone era called "Bunny Kiss," by an unknown artist. Unlike "Woman's Head," this little piece of vintage artwork is for all intents and purposes completely worthless, if you measure it by how much it would go for at auction. But I love, love, love it! It makes me happy just to look at it! This darling child has the most adorable face--which cannot be said for Picasso's subject, that's for sure. (And the bunny's is awfully cute, too.)

I've said this before, but I'll say it again: I may not have the most discerning taste when it comes to art, but I don't care. It doesn't matter to me how much a painting is worth; I just want to feel happy, or moved, or inspired when I look at it.

How about you? What does it for you? The Picasso painting, or the no-name Easter illustration? (Right now, I'm feeling very verklempt, looking at that sweet little kid hugging that adorable bunny...so go ahead, discuss. Tawk amongst yourselves...)


And by the way, yes, it really is 3:30 a.m. I was sewing until just a little while ago. (I feel like I'm back in college, pulling an all-nighter before an exam!) I figured as long as I was up, I'd blog, too...because I may be sleeping in pretty late tomorrow. Hopefully, this post isn't full of typos!

Palm Sunday

"Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord."

The holiest week of the year begins now, on Palm Sunday, as we prepare to reverently commemorate the Last Supper on Holy Thursday and Jesus' death on the Cross on Good Friday, and then to joyfully celebrate Our Lord's glorious Resurrection on Easter Sunday.

Easter is such a beautiful and holy day! And it's such a fun-filled and exciting day, too, when you have little children in the house; because you get to watch their faces light up when they find their Easter baskets filled with treats! I'm still putting together Easter baskets for my five sons--even though they range in age from 19 to 28 now--and I hope to have them in the mail tomorrow. Every year I think, "I really don't have to do this anymore. It's kind of silly." But then I find myself drawn to the Easter candy aisle of my local grocery store, and before I know it I'm filling my cart with all of their childhood favorites: chocolate bunnies, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in the shape of eggs, Sweet Tarts shaped like chicks and bunnies, Reese's Pieces (all orange, and specially packaged for Easter in cone-shaped plastic to look like carrots), Jolly Rancher-flavored jelly beans, and marshmallow Peeps (though the Peeps only go to son #4; he could practically live on them, while his brothers can take or leave them). It's too much, I know it is. But for some reason, I can't seem to stop myself.

I'm going to try to scale back this year, though. Last year, son #4 told me I'd sent way too much, and that he would probably get diabetes if he ate the whole kit and caboodle. ("You don't have to eat it all. You could share some of it..." I offered, pathetically.) I don't know why I continue to go overboard on Easter baskets. I guess it all boils down to this: my boys are all living far away now, and I can't show my love in intangible ways, on a day-to-day basis, anymore; so I send them something very tangible (and edible!) to let them know that they're in my thoughts--and close to my heart, as always--on Easter. I'm not the only mom who can't let go of the Easter basket routine, though; I spoke to my baby sister today, and she does the very same thing with her grown children!

Just as my heart is filled at Christmas with a yearning to let my loved ones know how much I love them through gift-giving, it is filled with that same kind of yearning at Easter--and I choose to express my feelings through chocolate and jelly beans! But isn't it wonderful that on both of these holidays, the whole reason for that ineffable joy is one and the same: the reason is Christ.