An Easter Party and An Excuse to Wear a Pretty Dress

Emma and I did some work yesterday morning, on her reading, writing and typing.  This is the “story” she wrote:

“I can’t wait for our Easter party!

I am going to wear a pretty dress.

I love to wear pretty dresses.

I am excited to see Max. I am excited to see cousin Alexandra and Jackie too.”

Sadly, I do not have a photograph of Emma wearing her pretty party dress because I got a late start on cooking, what with decorating Easter eggs to resemble farm animals…

and birds…

of all types…

There were chocolate eggs that needed to be hidden for the Easter “Egg” hunt, thankfully Richard did a superb job with that and came up with some very creative places to hide them, including inside one of our speakers, where they will remain lodged forever.  We invited 13 people over due to arrive at 5:00PM  and I was way behind schedule, hadn’t prepared the roasted vegetables, fixed the leg of lamb, prepared the biscuits, the appetizers or the berries and whipped cream and it was already 3:00PM. (Gulp!)

Emma donned her pretty party dress and whirled about while listening to a medley of her current favorites, MIchael Jackson, Dionne Warwick, The BeeGees and Led Zeppelin.  You have to hand it to her, the kid has a wide and varied taste in music!

Emma had been looking forward to our “Easter Party” for weeks.  We had gone over the list of people countless times.  She fixated on a few of those people, talking about them over and over again.  We did a countdown of how many hours until they would arrive.  And then when the first person arrived Emma squealed in delight and raced to the door.  When cousin Alexandra arrived, Emma could barely look at her, she was so overwhelmed.  The same happened when Jackie appeared.  It was as though it were all too much.  The very sight of these much anticipated arrivals was more than she could take.  “Max is coming!” she said over and over again.  Max had called ahead to inform us that he would be late.
“Yes.  Max will be here in another 20 minutes or so,” we answered.

“Max is late,”  Emma stated, nodding her head and looking sad.

“But he’ll be here soon,” we reassured her.

When Max finally arrived, Emma put her hand in front of her eyes, as though he were as bright as the sun and the glare was too much for her.  Meanwhile I was busy getting the leg of lamb out of the oven and serving everyone a cheddar-chive biscuit.  “Where’s Em?” I asked Richard at one point.

“She’s hiding,” he said.

I found Emma crouched behind the couch, her head down, almost touching the floor.  “Emmy, what are you doing?”  I asked.  When she didn’t respond I said, “Come sit with us at the table.”  Reluctantly she sat down, next to Jackie and across from Max.  She kept her head and eyes lowered and wouldn’t look at either of them.

After an hour or so, Emma was able to raise her head and began playing various games with Max.  By the end of the evening she was beside herself with excitement, fully engaged and talkative.  She said good bye to each guest as they departed, and when Max left she walked him to the door and said, “Bye Max!”  and then she blew him kisses.

For more on Emma’s journey, go to:   Emma’s Hope Book