...magic

Nora has been obsessed with seeing the Easter Bunny. I'm not exactly sure why? It's not like Santa. He doesn't have you tell him what you'd like in your basket. Nevertheless, Nora was on a mission. I'm not sure if she thought we would be sitting down breaking bread with the Bunny, where over a plate of pancakes he would spin yarns of all the Easters of his past. We woke up early. Had a light breakfast snack. Prayed the puke that Atticus shared on me the evening before was just a fluke. We lined up...to see the Easter Bunny...and get free pancakes.

I can still remember the first spring in this house. Everything was new. Everything that bloomed we'd never seen before. It was beautiful and scary all at the same time. Our first Easter here, we packed up the family roadster and headed to my family in Indiana. Partially because we wanted to spend Easter with them, partially because I didn't want to spend Easter here...it was something I didn't want to have to figure out, alone. Along this journey, I haven't always taken the least obstructed route, but I've had to take the one that would work for me. In that process I have, at times, ran from things that were just too hard to handle at that moment. In the beginning it was my coping mechanism, all the while knowing that some day, the expiration date would come up and I'd have to actually start dealing...but that was someday.

As she stood there in line to get seated for breakfast, Nora stared at the unfortunate employee dressed in an Easter Bunny costume. Thankfully, the costume wasn't freakish, and it didn't seem to deter her from wanting to go up and chat. After a minute in line, she asked if she could go talk to him. I said sure, and asked if Atticus maybe wanted to go with her. Atticus' response was "...I'm staying in line." Nora went up, shook hands with the Bunny, and told him all about her stuffed rabbit named 'Bob'. In that moment it sort of hit me...I knew why she had a slight obsession. I knew why she had envisioned pancakes with this rodent...because she's a kid. And believing in something, even if you know it's a little far fetched, is what it's all about. She knew who she was talking to was someone dressed up, but believing in some magic is what is important.

Driving down the road the other day, it hit me...actually, it was something someone said to me. Walking into a store I saw someone I knew and she said, "...boy, you're brave! Taking all those kids with you?" I smiled (kind of thought "duh") and said, "...yep, every minute of my life..." It occurred to me later, the expiration date that I had been dreading so fiercely, it had come and gone and we were all still standing. I catch myself being comfortable with how my life has become...not terrified about how it's all going to work.

Cone of honesty? That's a lie. Kids terrify the crap out of me with puberty around the corner I might need real meds, but I digress...I know now that running away isn't necessary, accepting change is still difficult, but it's inevitable. I feel like even though were aren't your typical family, the way we work is what works for us. There is yelling, there is "Bear Poking", there are arguments, and there are a few of my kids that I think get tired of hearing their own name. But, then there are the times when we sit, all together, watching mindless TV, laugh our heads off and joke and it just feels like we've graduated. We are no longer a hapless crew, trying to understand the reasons for change, we accept it and know it has made us who we are...it's our little bit of magic.