As I write this, I’m sitting on my sofa on Sunday evening, listening to my youngest three run around the front yard with their cousins Jack and Quin on the first really sunny, warm-ish weekend of the year. The ham and potatoes have been ravaged, the Easter baskets picked over, and the dishes piled up in the sink. This eggs we hastily dyed last night have been shelled for egg salad tomorrow, and my nails are stained from the dye.
I didn’t do a single Easter craft this year. I didn’t blow the insides out of eggs so we could hand-paint and display the fragile shells. I didn’t batik eggs or wind thread around eggs or remember to decorate the house with birds’ nests and chicks and lambs. I bought a cheerful, yellow polka-dot tablecloth for Easter months ago, and just remembered to put it on the table Friday afternoon.
I posted something very similar to this last year. Unlike the Christmas season, when I feel perfectly capable of bringing my A game, or at least my B+ game, Easter always seems to sneak up on me in a cloud of gray end-of-winter funkiness and near-end-of-school-year slump. And with all the beautiful things I’ve seen portrayed on other blogs, Facebook, and Pinterest, it’s easy to feel a little sheepish about our phoned-in eggs and the pre-baked spiral ham.
But why? In the words of reader Donna, who left this amazing comment on my self-care post a couple weeks ago:
Take good care of yourselves, ladies. Take loving care of your physical and mental health and the best care of your marriage that you can. It is only my opinion, but I believe that these things have more of an impact on my parenting and my children than whether everything I bake is from scratch (it isn’t) or whether I scrapbook every soccer game (I don’t). I want them to last for the life of my family.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
Who we are is so much more important to our kids than what we do. Mine were very happy with their cheapo Paas Easter egg kit and a day of romping around with candy and their cousins. Why shouldn’t I be as satisfied as they are?
Being a healthy, happy version of the person you are is what your children need. Not crafts, or a fully-filled-out-scrapbook or homemade baked goods. Not a Pottery Barn kids-decorated bedroom or professional-quality party favors or even a fully-funded college savings account.
Those things are nice, yes, but they are the gravy; the things we do when we feel inspired and able.
You. That’s what your children really need. The you you really are, instead of the “you” you THINK you should be.
This year, my best didn’t include Easter crafts and decor, and to be honest, it’s possible it never will. But I did my best to give my kids my best me. And in the future, I really believe that’s what they’ll remember.
It’s about who we are. Not what we do. Our kids know this. Let’s try to remember it ourselves.
Pinterest. I have a love/hate relationship with Pinterest. I love all the ideas out there. I hate all the perfect things being shown as doable. I had the same relationship years ago with Martha Stewart. I loved all her ideas. I hated her belief that everything should be done perfectly.
Your Easter sounded divine!
Yes, yes, yes. I had very similar thoughts today.
Perfect. Just perfect, Meagan.
Wonderful post! Thank you so much for writing it!
Our kids just want to be close to us. It’s easy to forget that we are enough when we are surrounded by images of homemaking perfection.
Yes yes yes. Thank you. I think most of our need of homemaking perfection is exactly this: OUR need, not our kids’, not our husbands’. Probably our kids need only good laughs and hugs from a happy mommy.
Brilliant post, thanks Meagan. We waste so much time and energy feeling guilty, then there’s none left to share with the family!
I’ve may have mangled a quote here, but even still, I think the message still stands: “This bright new day, 24 hours of opportunities, choices and attitudes. This unique gift, this one day cannot be exchanged, refunded or replaced. Handle with care. Make the most of it. There is only one per customer.”