The Hangover

I have a hangover--actually the whole house does. No, not THAT kind...it's a holiday hangover! Our household is afflicted by this condition each year the day after Christmas and Easter. You are probably familiar with the symptoms: laziness, bloating, and disorder.

When I came down the stairs this morning, the first thing I saw was Easter grass. Lots of it. Everywhere. Sticking to the walls, strewn across the floor, dangling from the dog's mouth, stuck to the bottom of my slippers, and even blowing across the patio outside. Mocking me. Because no matter how many times I sweep and discard, it comes back. I believe it has a half-life.

The kids know how I feel about Easter grass. I had to laugh when the kids, after making an Easter basket craft after church yesterday morning, told the supervisor that they would take theirs home without the grass because their mom hates it so much. (Perhaps I have not kept my feelings to myself on this topic...) I should have been embarassed, but I was only pleased. Sick, I know.

The next thing that encountered me this morning was the packed refrigerator. I was practically knocked on the head by falling ham, lamb and boiled eggs as I reached for the orange juice. Holiday leftovers, crammed into every Tupperware I own. Leftovers that I have to convince my family are really special tasty treats, and aren't we lucky that we get to have them at every meal for the next week straight?

As I attempted to prepare breakfast I noticed the oozing callous on my thumb from the FIVE DOZEN colored eggs I peeled last night to save and devil and make egg salad with. As I proudly presented them to the family I learned that everyone is totally sick of eggs and no one wants any of them, no matter how much mayonnaise I pair them with. Who could have guessed that?

Next, we all continued our post-Lenten gluttony with our leftover breakfast breads, which were restored to their former glory with just a few minutes in the oven. Yum. And yuck, since we became sluggish a mere hour after stuffing ourselves--again.

I often wish that the church portion of the holiday was separated by a day or more from the family gathering and meal portion. I spend some of the time I should be focusing on the religious significance of what I am doing thinking instead of grocery lists and Easter baskets (or stockings). I wish I could compartmentalize them, but alas I cannot.

It helps to go to the holiday vigil masses since they are a day ahead--and extra special. The Easter vigil is the most beautiful mass of the year, in my opinion. This year, I could hardly sing the Gloria because I was so overwhelmed by the joy of the resurrection. When the church goes from darkness into light, it becomes so real to me. But as soon as I get home, this wonder is quickly displaced by busy preparations. I wish I could savor it a little longer.

But, even with the inevitable hangover, I love the family gathering. And I love hosting them. Most of all, I love making holiday magic for the kids that extends from church to home. Their memories will be full of family, laughter and love.

And leftovers.