Easter Eve: Traditions Reborn

Ever since last summer, when Jordan and Jamie admitted they no longer believed in Santa, an entire cast of childhood characters and associated traditions disappeared from our lives.

Jim and I of course knew that day would come sooner or later, but like all parents we would have been perfectly content to have their childlike awe last a little while longer.

So as Santa, his reindeer and elves, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy packed their bags, we realized how much we would miss Jordan and Jamie waking us up to tell us that Santa’s reindeer and the Easter Bunny ate all the carrots, or that the Tooth Fairy wrote them a special note to go with their new toothbrush.

Christmas Eve left me slightly melancholy when the kids didn’t put out a plate of cookies and carrots for Santa and his transportation team, and the morning was equally strange, as the kids knew all the presents were from Jim and me, not old Saint Nick. As Easter approached, I stopped short as I found myself going into the ‘secret spot’ in the basement to dig out the kids’ baskets and plastic eggs.

I then remembered my mom and dad hid chocolate candy eggs in our living room until my sister and I were well into high school, and I received a Fanny May Valentine’s heart in the mail all the way through my grad school years at college.

Before it was too late, I ran to the store and picked up a couple egg-dying kits and pounds of various chocolates and jellybeans to fill the more than one hundred plastic eggs I had packed away last year. Disbelief be damned, we are coloring eggs and having an Easter egg hunt!

The Dralle Easter Egg Hunt would only take place if Jordan and Jamie both agreed to sit on the Easter Bunny’s lap at our neighborhood clubhouse this morning. That’s right, we’re resetting the disbelief clock and I’m going straight back to the cutest photo opportunity available.

I didn’t expect too much resistance regarding decorating eggs or posing for the EB portrait – I mean, really, an hour of time in exchange for chocolate-filled plastic eggs strewn about our living room and dining room? That was a no-brainer no matter how you slice it.

The challenge I’ll be facing is how I’m going to keep Buck-Buck the wonder dog from mistaking all the eggs as his tennis balls before Jordan and Jamie wake up, or keep Sparky the kitten from batting the eggs around while we sleep from Saturday night to Sunday morning.

All in all worth the effort to recapture a fond tradition or two…