Where are You?

“Where are you?” is the query posed by the masses of my cyber supporters (or so I have convinced myself). I suppose this a symptom of the narcissism which fuels some stay-at-home mom’s blogging, leading to the publishing of personal disclosures otherwise considered at best, private or at worst, negligible. 

 

 

However, it is also the question on the lips of Kincaid, who- at present- prefers the thrilling game of Hide and Seek to any other, during which he adroitly wields this integral inquiry like one who “dominates” in person-recovery. And I love it. Ironically, Caid never actually finds anyone. Instead, he will break down in tears, crying “Where Are YOU!?” until, rather reluctantly, I allow myself to be found. 

 

 

 Easter has come and gone (without a requisite blog). There was much made of the occasion, as is fitting for such a commemoration. Fortunately, Eowyn was finally able to recite the real reason for their pastel finery and feast of ham without any prompting or mention of bunnies: “Jesus rose from the dead to save us from our sins.” And then, she would quite literally sing “Up from the grave he arose” –a holiday hymn (passably) perfected during our piano lessons.

 

Resurrection Sunday offered exhaustive revelry and sufficient saccharine treats to finance our dentist’s yacht. And in keeping with holiday tradition, my little darlings wailed hysterically the entire drive home until passing out within two miles of our front door. They party hard. 

And should another three weeks pass in cyber silence, where we are, will be basking in the glorious spring sunshine, attempting to undo all the damage done by a long and unforgiving (to my white legs) winter.