Sunday, April 24, 2011

Eastover? Passter?

It doesn't really matter what you call it I guess. The holidays mean different things to different people at different times. For instance, Passover to me will always be Matzah Brittle and something about plagues. Easter is Cadbury Creme eggs, sacrifice, and baskets full of sugar and toys.

And certainly isn't complete without a pair of giddy munchkins dancing around at far too early of an hour that morning.

But the holidays are also about time spent with family with no expectations other than maybe a good crime fight or two

 and a little time to sit around watching the world go by while reminiscing about our younger years.

And they're about the comfort found in carrying out long held traditions. And the chance to make a few new ones too. 

But I think most of all--for me anyway--holidays are a time of reflection. A time to really examine one's life and acknowledge all the blessings there in. It helps to have really big glasses for this part.

The bigger the better. That way when you realize just how much your offspring have changed in a single year, the glasses will help to hide the wistful tears before anyone can see them.



I mean it isn't like I don't want them to grow at all.  I do want them to become more independent and stop whining and fighting and bickering and saying "Mama!" 543400 times in an hour. And it will be nice when they can reach the sink in public restrooms without my having to lift them up. So yes, they are certainly allowed to grow up. Just maybe not quite so fast. Ok?

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