The hunt

This morning I woke to the normal hustle and bustle of my girls.  Brad went to a March Madness event last night, and thus I got up with Thing 1 and Thing 2 this morning, a rare happening on the weekend.  (My hubs, aka SuperDad, always lets me sleep in on Saturdays and Sundays while he does the early shift solo.  I know, I count my blessings every day that he. picked. me.)

Maren is awake first almost all the time.  Sometimes she comes in and snuggles with me (us, if Brad is still home).  More often, she draws or plays in her room.  (Current obsession = Legos!)  Often she will read books in bed.  (How do I have a child who is old enough to read! whole! books! independently!)  She loves her mornings and her independence.  I have never been a morning person, so I am happy that she self-entertains (for the most part) in those wee hours.

Greta wakes and hollers, “Mom!  Where?!  Are?!  You?!” in an I-mean-business tone.  Occasionally I am spared “Mommy” shrieking, and it is replaced with her favorite adult of the day: Daddy, Phenom, or someone else who saw her the previous day.

Maren requested that she and Greta wear one of their few matching outfits, and since they were clean, I dug them out of the bottom of the laundry basket, shook off the wrinkles, and I let them.  Finding matching outfits in a 7 (7!) and a 2T/3T is a challenge, but they both ADORE matching each other so it is worth the hunt.

This morning Brad woke in time for the annual neighborhood Easter egg hunt.  (And Maren and Greta were accidentally in matching dresses!  Score!)  We live in a neighborhood of about a bajillion kids (love it!) and by 10am this morning there 1,500 eggs scattered all over the green space.  (1,500 eggs is enough for 125 children to “find” a dozen.)  As you can imagine, the idea of “hiding” 1,500 eggs in an area the size of two soccer fields is laughable, but as the event is designed for the smallest kiddos, it works.

I love springtime because everyone comes out after a long winter of hibernation.  It seems all the kids are 5 inches taller and toothless!  The Egg Hunt is the precursor to the pool and playground conversations that will come over the coming months as the sun warms.  Today, I walked with Greta while Brad walked with Maren.  Greta was so exacting about which egg to pick up.  She would set her sights on one, and walk past twenty more on the way to get it.  She picked up seven and then was just done. She did. not. want. any. more. in. her. basket.  We stood and talked with neighbors and friends.  Maren flitted around in her own ever-widening social circle.

Last year, the day of the Egg Hunt was different.  I spent most of it in bed, as it was 48-hours after my first chemo treatment.  I had Brad carry a lawn chair the 40 meters from our front yard to the green space so that I could sit and watch the festivities.  Friends did likewise to keep me company.  It was (much) warmer.  I held a baby monitor in my hand as Greta was in her crib, 11 months old, having her morning nap.  I was quiet, and peaceful.  Maren and the rest of the kids were so cute to watch.  I felt happy to be there and grateful to be “participating.”  Such very different experiences, and each special in their own way.

I marvel at how much we have all grown this year.  These years with my precious little girls are so very, very special.  These are the best days of my life.