Messy Minded Momma

My son said this at 6:45 a.m. after we woke him up for school.

Our son is usually the first one up, well before our alarms go off. Since he sleeps in our bed every night, he rolls over, kisses each of us on the cheek, and asks, “Is it morning time yet? I want to go downstairs and watch TV.”

We usually tell him, “Not yet,” hoping to squeeze in a few extra minutes of sleep. Thanks to my blackout curtains, he has no idea what time it is unless he actually gets up and checks the window.

But this morning we had to wake him. And honestly… same, honey. I’m always in a bad mood when I’m tired.

This past weekend, we celebrated Greek Easter complete with midnight mass, family and friends, and a traditional Greek feast. The sun was shining, the kids played outside for hours, and the Easter Bunny even made an appearance. It was the perfect day. But I am tired. Exhausted.

The festivities began Saturday night around 11:00 p.m., when we had to wake our son up and get him dressed for church. He’s too young to stay up until midnight mass, so we put him to bed at his usual time.

Trying to dress a sleeping 4-year-old in church clothes is next to impossible. I ended up pulling his dress pants and shirt over his pajamas and calling it a win. Midnight mass is usually outdoors anyway, so with his winter jacket on, no one would ever know.

The service celebrates Christ’s Resurrection. It lasts about half an hour before the Holy Light is passed around and fireworks light up the night sky as the Priest declares, “Christos Anesti” (Christ has Risen). Liturgy follows, but that’s when we make our exit to get our son back into bed. We carefully carry the flame home in a small lantern so we can make a smoke cross above each doorway to bless the house.

Sunday morning came quickly.

My son woke up early to hunt for Easter eggs. For Greek Easter, I fill plastic red eggs with coins. Money is traditionally given to children as a symbol of good fortune and blessing, making this Easter feel extra special and a little different from the usual candy and small toys.

After the egg hunt, it was time to pick up the lamb and get it on the spit. It takes about five hours to cook, and during that time, the adults gather, talking, laughing, sipping Ouzo, and preparing the rest of the meal: rice, potatoes, peas, soup, and salad. Before dinner, we play a game called Tsougrisma. Everyone chooses a red-dyed egg, and one by one, we tap them against each other. The person whose egg doesn’t crack wins.

The red represents the blood of Christ, and the cracking symbolizes His resurrection. The winner is said to have good luck for the year ahead.

After dinner, there’s coffee and dessert. More talking. More laughter. And we stay up far later than we should, completely full, completely exhausted, and barely able to move.

It’s a long, full, beautiful day. One of our favourite holidays.

And now, Monday morning has arrived…and the little boy who’s usually asking me if it’s morning time is the one telling me he’s tired and in a bad mood. Honestly? Same, baby. Same. Zzzzz,