Monday, April 17, 2006

Ow, again, and the Easter Bunny

So, still with the brain hurting thing. I'm simply NOT used to this whole "work like a crazy woman while the sharks are circling" deal.

I am so swamped that I really should NOT be taking the time to write this entry.......



I feel it's incumbent upon me to tell you that we have a 10-year-old boy in our house that still believes in the Easter Bunny. Matter or fact, his 8-("almost 9!")-year-old brother does too.

I credit thier continued faith in the fanciful to 1) a mastery of sleight-of-hand, 2) distraction, and 3) level-headed teamwork on the part of Mom and Dad.

For example - It pays to have a husband who will tell the kids "go back to bed, it's too early to be looking for treats yet," who then wakes me up so I can pack the baskets (or, as they were this year, butterfly nets) with the goodies and wrap 'em' up in cellophane and put them behind the futon so they seemed to have magically appeared even though that area had already been LOOKED at once that morning......

A further example - It also pays to have grandparents around for distraction, so that the very obvious checking of the status of the eggs in the fridge one minute (yup, still there) and an equally obvious discovery of their disappearance the next (where did they GO? They were just HERE!) creates a mystery of tantalizing proportion, and during the intervening time gap nobody noticed Mommy outside throwing eggs into the ivy, and canoe, and on top of the lawnmower, and amongst tree roots, etc.

For at least one more year, we got them fooled. I don't know how long we can keep this up, but I'm determined to keep trying. I'm convinced that the spark of wonder and the thrill of a brush with the unexplainable keep them young and preserve a bit of their innocence.

We won't lie to them if they ask about the corporeal reality of Santa and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy, but until they ask, we're not telling.


An aside -

When I was growing up, we had Easter egg hunts well into our teens, and it was always a big competition to see who could get the most. It's not like we WON anything, we just ran like crazy to get them eggs. That's just how things were done.

This year, the boys were ripping around all over the yard (after looking all over the inside of the house hoping to find eggs), and when one found and egg he'd say "OK, the next one's yours" until all the eggs were found.

No competitive spirit at all.




rennratt said...

I must hire you for an egg hunt at my house. Nooze was terribly upset that we didn't have one yesterday. (Nevermind that she has been to THREE with various friends!)

When shall your meetings end?

Jess Riley said...

How cool to still have that innocence! My mom actually told me about Santa & the EB when I was 8. I then spent the next few years trying to burst the bubbles of my classmates who still believed. Geez, what a jerk I was. LOL

Chelle said...

Went on my first egg hunt in years on Sunday.

The rule is until you reproduce your own egg hunter, you can hunt eggs.

For the first time in my adult life - I hunted eggs. Had so much fun!

tiff said...

Renn - you should have seen me ducking beneath the deck to be sure they didn't see me. Picturesque it wasn't! Kids can be focused on things we'd never imagine, can't they?

Jess - My husbans and I agreed not to tell the kids until they had a healthy skepticism; and so far that hasn't happened. We thought the older kid would have suspended belief this year, but I suspect he knows on what side his bread is buttered and is keeping up with the fantasy for the goodies. :>

MMM3 - what fun! I like "helping" the kids find the eggs, myself. Maybe that's why there were a few that I'd put waaaaay back in the bushes.

BloggerWannabe said...

As tiff knows, i live overseas, in the country that created the tradition of dying eggs and easter bunnies...and still celebrates with many chocolates in the shapes of bugs, and bunnies - and every year, the egg hunt takes place in the snowy remains of winter...(thats why you have to dye eggs, so you can see them in the snow drifts)- but this year we went to Rome for spring break, and those crazy italians...they get huge chocolate eggs, like the Brits do, and the kids were confused as to why the easter bunny doesn't come to the italian kids...but after much watching of Caspar the friendly ghost and the Nanny in Italian on our hotel tv, complete with many many commercials with joyous italian kids getting the big chocolate easter eggs - filled with toys or lollies, or other must have types of wonderfulness, they became more worldly, and said, hey, those italians are different, but thats okay...