Lessons of the Egg Hunt

On Sunday we attended our first ever egg hunt. Four years and three billion diapers into my parenting career, you would think that I would be well-versed in the mores of the egg hunt. However, two of my four Easters as a parent happened when I was still reeling in a post partum haze with either one or two newborns attached at the boob. Easter? What is Easter? Can I take a nap?

I'm not sure what compelled me to drag my family to this community egg hunt. Because, yes it was me dragging them since the kids didn't know what an egg hunt was and Marco was smart enough to know that this was not going to be our thing.

As we're parking the car we see kids carrying their Easter baskets and Annabella says, "Uh oh. There is something really wrong here! We forgot baskets."

For the record, I didn't forget baskets. I didn't want to bring baskets because then we would have to bring home stuff in the baskets. But Annabella's worrying makes me feel bad. How is it that she already worries that she's not like everyone else? This is one of the secretly horrible things about parenting, when your kids start to exhibit the qualities that you like least in yourself. 

We arrive and the lawn is covered in plastic eggs cordoned off by some plastic flags. The eggs are just sitting out there, not hidden at all. Marco says, "This is hunting, only in the Dick Cheney sense. And we all know how well that turned out."

The egg hunt is divided by age, so Milo and Huck go in the first group. Huck could care less and prefers to sit in Marco's lap with Annabella. I walk out into the lawn holding Milo by the hand. We stop next to a green plastic egg.

Me: Do you want to pick that up?

Milo: OK.

We wander back to the rest of our family. He opens the egg. There are stickers inside. He hands them to Annabella and she uses them to decorate the brown paper bag someone has given her because she doesn't have an Easter basket.

Forty five minutes later it is time for the older kids to hunt for eggs. And they're doing it Dick Cheney style too. But this time there's even less mystery, because all the kids watched as the high school volunteer walked glumly around the lawn dropping the eggs in the grass.

A woman on a microphone asks if the next group is ready. Annabella is standing there poised with her brown paper bag. The anticipation has been building and I can tell she is anxious and I just know this isn't going to turn out well. There is a "Ready, set, go" and I watch as all the parents take their children by the hand to help them find these eggs that aren't hiding. Annabella wanders out there alone, picks up two eggs and then stands there in a daze. I ask Marco, "Do you think I should go out there to help her?" He says no, but I go out there anyway, because that's what all the other parents are doing. By the time I get to her all the other four year are running around gleefully with baskets overflowing. There are no more eggs to be found.

I suddenly feel like Annabella is in 5th grade and I've decided not to do her homework for her, but then I get a little glimpse of all the dioramas-in-progress and I know that no 10 year old child did that by herself. And then I see that Annabella too can recognize that her diorama is kinda crappy in comparison. So, I decide to help her, but it's too late, and it’s still kind a crappy. And we don't even have the satisfaction of her doing it herself.

That's when another mom stops and sees that Annabella is almost in tears. She encourages her son to share his eggs with her and this big-hearted little guy does, even though he's not totally sure he wants to. Annabella feels a little bit better and we return to the sidelines where Huck is still sitting in Marco's lap and Milo is investigating the trash can. Annabella explains that she only got two eggs and that a little boy shared his with her.

"Well, that's a good lesson," Marco says. And I know he's not doing that thing where he's pretending to talk to Annabella, but he's really talking to me. But I still think that as far as lessons go, this one's a good one for me to learn too. Egg hunts really aren't our thing.

But there was one more lesson I had to learn yesterday. In the car on the way home, I asked Annabella, "Did you have fun?" And she said, "No, not really." And I said, "That's OK. Some things aren't fun."

Then later that evening my parents come over and they ask Annabella about the egg hunt and she says, "Oh, it was really all kinds of fun. A boy shared his eggs with me!"

And this, my friends, is one of the secretly wonderful experiences of parenting, when your child exhibits the kind of behaviors that you aspire to. There was no brooding about the lack of challenge, the encouragement of greed, the plastic. It was just all kinds of fun.   

Comments

[Lisa]

Aww, as long as it was "all kinds of fun", I'd say it was a success. Funny to watch your kids exhibit behaviors that remind you of your own, huh? My daughter is only 7 months old, and already my husband says she whines just like me! Lord help us all! ;)

[Irnbru]

I think there are good and bad egg hunts, like everything in life.

But don't understand not taking baskets as what are the children to do with the eggs they pick up?

It also gives a day of activity beforehand, letting the kids decorate their own baskets.

Then you can fill the basket they decorated with Easter gifts and chocolate easter eggs at Easter..makes it more fun for them.