My performance rating lately.
I'm not being dramatic, just truthful.
Yesterday I designed, printed, cut and laminated about 100 of the tackiest locker tags I have ever produced. I was in a git 'er done state of mind, and aggressively pursued checking the task off my list. (Besides, there are 100 athletes on the track team, all of whom have a parent of some kind or other, almost none of which are clamoring to assist with the locker-tag-making duties, requiring me to fill in the weeks with blanks on the schedule.) After cutting them and laminating half, I brainstormed a much wittier phrase for them, but in the interest of saving time and ink, elected not to re-do. Most kids just throw them in the garbage, anyway. At least that's what I'm telling myself. Surely there have been much uglier, dumber, and tackier locker tags hanging around the school (in super quantities like 100+), right? I told Lex that nobody need know I made them. She assured me that she wouldn't tell.
Our Easter celebration was another mediocre performance.
I purchased the ham Saturday evening (grateful that I could find a decent one that wasn't frozen solid, which I only mention because the first group of hams I came to at the grocery store were, causing a few brief moments of panic). I forgot asparagus, but had some carrots at home, and figured they would work. Add a little salad and some cheesy potatoes, and it's a holiday egg-stravaganza. Menu: done.
Then I went home and we colored eggs. Late in the evening. Bill and I were exhausted, after spending the day at a track meet, and working concessions for half of it. (Bill had been the grill man, and smelled of grilled hamburgers, dogs, and smoke...yum. No, seriously. Yum.) I had not purchased an egg-dying kit, but figured I could find a way to use what we had at home and make it work. It was a success. Perhaps not a smashing success, but we are fine with mediocre. Eggs: dyed.
Bill remembered that we had neglected to do our
semi-annual measuring tradition over conference weekend, so we nabbed our trusty post (the framer that worked on our basement kindly cut it out for us), and did a quick, mediocre version of the measure.
Results: Lex has not grown for several years, Shilo grew a quarter inch in the past 6 months, and Mar was the winner with a spurt of 3/4".
Melancholy (
Megamind pronunciation, please) Bill started talking about how we were going to measure our grandchildren on that very same post.
I knew it was time for bed.
On Sunday morning the girls hunted Easter baskets (the ones that were quickly hidden moments earlier by a
mediocre tired bunny). Bill had been up early, and
of course, was all ready for church while the rest of us looked... let's just say, "not our best." He had a great time capturing us
all on video for posterity.
Per Mar's request, we had
three hunts going on. One for numerous plastic eggs all over the house, one for baskets from "the" bunny (who was on a budget this year, but took requests for specific needs/wants so as to not waste it on unnecessary fluff), and one for baskets from Grandma Syddall's Utah bunny, fluff included.
Perfect.
It was handy having the basement for
new hiding places. After 10 years of basket hunting in the same few rooms, it was nice to
challenge the girls a bit. Hints were requested and given, however, in the spirit of "We need to move this thing along, since Dad has to leave, church starts in a couple hours, and Mom needs to whip something together for Singing Time."
Yes, Singing Time was a bit mediocre, too.
(Note: I don't want to negate the true meaning of Easter, as I realize that this post has been primarily about events, and not so much about the purpose of the holiday. Luckily, I had not-a-few moments to ponder and reflect on the Savior, his Atonement, and the Resurrection. Sacrament Meeting was lovely. I shed a tear as a young man gave a talk in Primary. Singing Time may not have as perfectly planned as I would have liked, but we were able to sing a beautiful song called
Gethsemane. Despite the fact that our new pianist did not get the music in time to practice, I know the children could feel the spirit as we sang.)
After church I flew home to pop the ham in the oven (I wanted to have it done
before church, but couldn't quite manage it with all the mediocre Singing Time preparations going on), and throw dinner together before our guests, the Yoshikawas came over. The girls all pitched in (one of the best parts of the day - I love having those girls in the kitchen with me), and made the rolls (which, btw, were
excellent).
We sent the kids on an
Easter Walk just before dinner, and they shared what they found after we were finished eating. Mar had been given a cute bag with the following list of items to collect:
Branch - The week before His crucifixion, as Christ entered the city, the people waved branches from palm trees.
Piece of Wood - For it was out of wood His cross was made.
Something Prickly - His crown was made of thorns.
Something No Longer Alive - For truly the Savior died.
Three Things in Dark Color - There were three days of darkness. Light could not be found following His death.
Stone - The angel moved a large stone at the opening of His tomb.
Something Living - To remind us that Jesus Christ died, was resurrected, and He surely lives today!
(I forgot to snap a pic before we ate... so you get the after-dinner-mint-to-take-it-when-the-table-looked-pretty version.)
Despite the simpleness of dinner, it was delicious. We have enjoyed the leftovers for the two days following. I have felt like a more-than-mediocre mom as I place a lovely plate of nuked ham and potatoes, with a side of salad, AND A ROLL in front of my hungry family each evening. I think that perhaps they have reached the limit, however, on how many nights in a row they will eat the same meal. In my {mediocre} frame of mind, I might try to stretch it
one more day.
I must say, mediocre is better than flailing, and a hundred times better than failing. Good enough.
