April 24th Easter!

I have always loved Easter!  
My sisters and I would go to sleep the night before in curlers; our hats, dresses, shoes and gloves would be laid out and ready.
Sometimes we would have a sunrise service.  But I always remember the music being one of my favorites. The chorus to one of my favorite hymns still gives me goose bumps. I remember watching my mom's fingers fly over the piano keys, my dad led the music, "Up from the grave he arose! With a mighty triumph o'er his foes!"  I have since played this same hymn in church, trying very hard to mimic the sound my parents brought to it. (it is every bit as technical as my mom made it look easy!)  
We have all heard the story.  Well, maybe not ALL of us. This year we experienced Easter through the fresh eyes of a 5 almost 6 yr old.
It was our first sunday as a family of ten. Clothes were laid out, shoes standing at the ready. Outfits and diapers for all three little people.  I thought that two hours should give me "plenty of time" to do hair, diapers, tie bows, and do any last minute ironing touch ups.  Plenty of time... Where did that stupid phrase come from?  When was the last time you had plenty of time? It's a stupid phrase... Anyway...
All three of our new girls have long hair. Lots and lots of long hair.  The 5 yr old wanted two braids ending in pony tails, curled on the ends. Check.  The 4 yr old wanted hers to be "Big and fuzzy like Michael Jackson."  No, no, no. "It's Easter!" I tell her.  Then there was this look like, "So? Michael Jackson didn't have big hair on Easter?"   Heaven?, it's Danielle... Help me with this child!
She finally agreed to a small braid across the top of her head.  The 2 yr old was easy, two straight forward french braids, her only request was ribbons.
We went to church in two vans. Another first for us.  About half way there David called me, I had this moment of panic where I was sure we had left someone at home... We didn't. ;-)  
I had nursery duty, the 2 and 4 yr old barely avoided a meltdown concerning their class, so they stayed with me.  A mistake we will not be making next week!
On the way home the 5 yr old was telling me about their class, "And mom, MOM!, did you even know they killed him? They killed him, and he still didn't stay dead?", me, "Yes miss thing, I did know that!" Miss thing, "Well I told Abi that if they killed him, for !reals!, he would have stayed dead, but the teacher said they killed him for reals! And he still got up!"  I posted part of this conversation on face book saying this is why we foster.