Looks Like We Made It: An Easter Story

Growing up, Easter morning was almost as big of a deal for the kids in my family as Christmas morning. My parents created an elaborate treasure hunt with clues throughout the house leading us to Easter baskets and chocolate. Since moving to Berlin three years ago, 2013 was our first Easter in the city as a family—we normally travel during this time—and Lennon was finally old enough for a proper Easter hunt. 

The morning started off early—5:30am early—with a note from the Easter Bunny and a chocolate rabbit placed strategically near where we'd suspected he'd awake—in our bed. Behind the note was a clue as to where Lennon could find his next Easter surprise—from Mr. Bunny, of course. The clue came in the form of a printed photo of a location Lennon frequents in our apartment, making it simple for him to know where to look.

On the edge of the bathtub, Lennon found a papier-mâché egg with Easter stickers inside, along with another clue.

Atop his play kitchen, was a new cooking and eating play set. Though another clue was included here, he became a bit distracted at this juncture.

His final clue brought him to his bedroom where he found a new bed for his baby doll. We're hoping to make him into a little Papa before his sister arrives in June. So far he’s playing along nicely.

Later that day, we would be visiting several of Lennon's friends and I wanted to bring something special for each of them. I made five small Easter baskets with a few goodies inside. For the baskets, I purchased this pattern but modified the handles and some of the construction to make it more Easter basket-like. I used my handy printable fabric to make the name plaques on the front. The linen and dotted fabric was purchased from IKEA—of all places—and the orange and white rick-rack was a market stall find. 

Each child received two decorated sugar cookies inside their homemade basket. After much trial and disappointment over the years with sugar cookies I tried this recipe entitled 'The Best Sugar Cookies.' They lived up to their name! An organic chocolate bunny lolly made by Alnatura was also included.

The tutorial for the carrots can be found here—it's free! Along with the dotted fabric from IKEA and the market stall rick-rack, the green check fabric I used for the carrot tops was also found at the market, on an enormously wide bolt. Just one meter yielded so much that I've already made big plans for the leftovers.

The padded baskets came in handy later for egg hunting with Lennon's buddy Otis.

In the afternoon, we made our way to Kreuzberg for a family supper with more of Lennon's little buddies and their parents. Lennon had been gifted a beautiful, mint condition vintage suit, circa 1950s, by my Mother, purchased from an Etsy seller. I couldn't wait for him to don it as his Easter outfit. With the absence of an authentic 1950s boys button down shirt, Lennon wore a white long sleeve onesie from H&M underneath and I made him a coordinating neckerchief from leftover vintage yardage and mini rick-rack, which sweetened the whole look.

For supper with friends, I made an asparagus quiche and a carrot cake. Other folks had made lasagna, salad, and homemade bread. Our hosts made lamb and a pear tart—so much good food and really wonderful people.  

I pushed myself beyond my energy level this Easter making sure I created the type of day I really wanted my family to experience, but it was absolutely worth it. I’ve been taking extra naps ever since to make up for it. My stamina is just not the same in the third trimester. Fortunately, I'm currently on maternity leave from my PhD program, which I'll be writing more about in the months to come. Taking this leave has lifted a tremendous weight off my shoulders and has allowed this pregnant mother to do just what she desires at this exact moment: focus on being a mom.

40 Days of Birthday: Day Thirty-Eight

I had a very exciting meeting today about a project for next year here in Berlin. This meeting has been on the books for a few weeks and I was hoping to share more about it since it is my official Birth-Day activity for today—but I can’t. There are just too many details that need to be sorted before I can spill the beans, and before I can truly call it officially in the works. I’m looking forward to telling you more about it in the coming months.

Something unexpected happened today, before my exciting secret meeting. Lennon has a small plush fox that he carries with him nearly everywhere. Fox is an inexpensive toy that we bought at IKEA in the late spring. Lennon became attached to fox for a couple of reasons. When we travelled to the U.S. this past summer, we took a collection of toys with us that were small enough to be portable and inexpensive enough to not make us sad should they get damaged or lost in travel. His little fox was included. At the time of our vacation, Lennon wasn’t particularly attached to any one toy so we could make these kinds of decisions, but having spent a month with these toys only, they became mainstays. Additionally, Lennon loves toys with tails or dangly parts that he can hold in his hand and flip around. This is a habit we discovered on vacation, perhaps because fox was there with his perfect, toddler hand-sized tail.

When he started Kita this fall, we thought fox would be a perfect companion as they asked we bring our child’s favorite “Kuscheltier” with him every day. Though Lennon doesn’t get upset when fox is not around and is happy to play with other toys or even swing other plush animals by the tail, fox had been a consistent companion throughout the summer and, again, wouldn’t be such a financial loss should something happen to him.

As we came from Kita today, I handed Lennon fox whom he grabbed tightly by the tail. On the way home, I always glance down to make sure fox is still with him in the stroller. Luckily, he always is. We stopped into a few stores before heading home. As I was lifting Lennon out of the stroller, I noticed fox was missing. I checked everywhere on my person and in our bags but fox had been…dropped. I really couldn’t remember the last time I glanced down to make sure fox was there. Was it before we got on the train? After the store? Fox could be anywhere. Fox was lost. I did the first thing I always do in any crisis: call my husband. We both decided that it probably wasn’t advantageous for us to retrace all of our steps, having no idea where he could be. Luckily, IKEA still sold the exact same fox and Nicholas would make a run tonight to get another one.

We’d always said that if fox got lost, we’d move on and not replace him. Our adaptable Lennon would find another toy to be his companion. Actually faced with the real life scenario, however, we needed a new fox. He’d become such a celebrity amongst our friends and at Kita: Lennon and his fox. As I waited for Nicholas to come home, I became sad about losing that particular fox. Yes, he could be replaced, but I imagined mending fox when he ripped a seam and letting him take on that wonderful child-loved patina. That fox had been washed so many times its fur was a little matted and dingy. The new fox would be all different and that made me melancholy.

Nicholas walked through the door and asked if I’d received his message. He was on his way home and wanted to know what side of the street we’d walked on, just in case he’d happen to spot fox. Disappointed that I’d not gotten his message, I apologized. Just then, out of his pocket he pulled fox---the original, lost-now-found fox! Nicholas had seen fox on one of the outside tables at Rogaki, just down the street. Some kind soul likely found him on the street and placed him there, clearly seeing how beloved he was. Happy day! Lennon saw fox sitting on his Tripp Trapp chair where Nicholas had placed him, smiled, and went to him. Then fox made a straight line for the washing machine. He’d be clean and dry in time for Kita in the morning. 

Out of The Nest

I’m back.

I did write while I was away but was so overwhelmed with travel, moving house, and children’s birthday parties that nothing made it to my blog. I don’t want you to feel like we’re strangers now and I offer the peace pipe below as a small slice of my past couple of months. Please know that you were missed:

16 August 2012

My experience so far is that moving house is hard when you’re caring for a very small child. In fact this is my experience at this very moment, or up until five minutes ago when I put my small child to bed. Now I’m eating chocolate and trying to untangle my feelings through writing. The other option was drink an entire bottle of wine. I feel I’ve made the mature choice. If I’m to be truly authentic here, I should tell you that if I’m able to complete this post I’ll have the bottle of wine anyway.

My phone just ding-a-linged. A text from my husband who’s working late tonight. Not only is my phone in the bedroom with the small sleeping child, the text from my husband contains a request to do yet another thing before the end of the day.

Just uncorked the wine.

I need to take a photo of Lennon for his daily blog. I knew I needed to do this even before my husband texted, but today has been so joyless, I decided to not engage in the hopeful act of photography, out of sheer protest. Several camera perfect moments floated in front of me today and while I did feel a little guilty for not capturing them, I reminded myself that we’re in wartime: allen wrench calluses on my hands and piles of card board--I simply can’t be bothered. But now, my husband has taken time out of his twelve-hour workday to remind me to take a photo. It’s time for me to enter the calm eye of the storm, get a hold of my damn self, and snap a bloody picture already. I stumble over a poorly placed box full of heavy books to get to the camera and snap a sloppy photo of my sleeping child.

Back to the wine. Pouring myself another glass, in fact. These two glasses will probably mean that I’ll not sleep well enough tonight. They’ll likely ensure that I’ll have an annoyingly foggy headed day tomorrow, frustrated with my sleepiness, the mountain of boxes, and all that God forsaken fiberboard furniture I have to put together.

…………

But listen to this:

“The essence of life is that it’s challenging. Sometimes it is sweet, and sometimes it is bitter. Sometimes your body tenses, and sometimes it relaxes or opens. Sometimes you have a headache, and sometimes you feel 100 percent healthy. From an awakened perspective, trying to tie up all the loose ends and finally get it together is death, because it involves rejecting a lot of your basic experience. There is something aggressive about that approach to life, trying to flatten out all the rough spots and imperfections into a nice smooth ride. To be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest.” –Pema Chodron

…………

So much of the pain I’ve felt this week has come about because of rough spots and imperfections, annihilation of routines, disruption of peace. I almost started crying in IKEA Tuesday over counter tops. I’d like to be someone who views change and challenge with a spirit of adventure. In those moments, I want to think: “what can I learn here?” Currently, fuzzy brained panic is prevailing. There’s also the concern of being too fastidious in my pursuit of laidback-ness, where ‘allowing for messy’ becomes yet another thing with a deadline.

Just finished the chocolate. Sipping the wine.

I can feel myself tense as I hear the noises from the street. Our old apartment was in a Hof and though we had little sunlight, we had near to no noise. Here, I’m very aware that I live in an urban environment. Just had to put Lennon back to sleep. When I come back to my wine, a fly is perched on the edge of my glass.

Chaos. Mess. Drunken, messy chaos: I will try to enjoy you.

No. No try.

I will enjoy {whispered as she jumps from nest}  

Photo source found here.
Information on Pema Chodron found here.