Cai was punky on Easter.  He was just having one of those off days with lots of tears.

There were tears in the morning because Cai’s plastic chicken wasn’t pooping enough bubble gum.

There were tears at church because Cai wanted to play Jesus in our preschool class resurrection story.

Yes, he cried even though I let everyone play Jesus.  All at once.  Which made for 5 Jesuses (girls and boys, of course) lying together, dead in the tomb, before the 3 angels rolled the yoga ball away.

Jesuses are alive!

My authentic Bible story wasn’t good enough for Cai.  He wanted to be the only Jesus.


There were tears when we were preparing Easter dinner.  I was boiling potatoes and stirring gravy over a hot stove.  I wasn’t willing to risk open flame burns by holding him at the same time.  Mean, mean mommy.

Tears and tears and tears.

In fact, there were only two times all day when the faucet shut down.

The first was during the egg hunt.  Candy-filled eggs and a cousin sandwich — what’s not to love?

And the second dry period was when I gave Cai my camera and told him to do his worst.  Distraction at its finest = a 4-year-old boy wielding a digital camera.

I didn’t see any of Cai’s masterpieces until late Easter night, of course.  The kids were all in bed.  Greg and I were ready to pass out on the couch.  And I started thumbing through the photos of the day.

Mostly, Cai’s pictures were full of people’s feet, the wall, and the occasional appliance.  Which I love, because it’s a window into the way my child sees the world.

But this is the picture Cai took of his twin brother Cael:

And, when through the window I glimpse the way my baby sees his brother, my heart stutters.

Breathtaking babies, thank you for being mine.


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