In which Easter is a bust

I mean, He is Risen, indeed. So there's still that. (And really, it's enough, yes? More than.)

But still...

Grief is a weird and fascinating thing. (If by fascinating I mean really f'ing annoying.) Mom loved Easter. I'd say it was probably her favorite holiday - because what can compare to Christ's death and resurrection paving the way for us to receive salvation and spend eternity with God? Nothing. That's absolutely right.

Regardless, I find myself missing her more now than I did when she'd just died.

So, in keeping with that during the lead up to Easter, hubby and I talked and decided on going out to eat rather than trying to have the big shindig at our house as we usually have in the past. We poked around and found a place in Occoquan with a special Easter brunch buffet, that, on perusal of the menu, seemed like it would offer everyone something they'd enjoy.

So today dawned as have the last several days with youngest's eyes nearly glued shut owing to his severe issue with maple pollen (which is currently ravaging the area.) We dosed him up with Zyrtec, ate our resurrection cinnamon rolls (quite tasty this year as I used a new recipe that adds a layer of pecans at the top, so you get a little gooey crunch on the top, not just the sweet from the melted marshmallow inside), and made our way to church.

Now, I will admit, our church at Easter is already an issue for me. Rather than the usual 4 services, they do one big service at the high school that's basically across the street. This used to take place in the auditorium. This year, for whatever reason, it was in the gym.

The. Gym.

Skirts are not conducive to sitting on bleachers.

Anyway, we find a spot and get through three songs before youngest is an issue. (Ends up being that he was irritated with me that I was making him stand for the music rather than just letting him color like the kids around us were doing. Well, I'm sorry - except not really - if you're my kid, you at least pretend to participate in the service. You just do.) Battle of wills commences and, when it's clear that I'm not going to win without an amazing scene getting made, I take him out leaving hubby and eldest to enjoy the service while youngest and I sit in the little cafeteria area outside the gym and discuss good choices that Jesus approves of.

Service over, we get in the car and head to the restaurant.

I should have known, to be honest, just from the way getting seated worked (with reservations! It's not as if we showed up on Easter and just expected to get in.) that it was not going to go smoothly.

When we were gathered (minus two -- hubby's youngest sister is apparently visiting friends in Vegas and our putative brother-in-law who we've yet to meet didn't come either, leaving hubby's middle sister to bring the baby on her own. At this point, I want to see how old the baby is before we meet the father. It'll be an interesting experiment) we waited.

Usually at a buffet/brunch type thing, the server stops by, gets drink orders, and gives you general instructions. So we waited for this. And we waited. And we waited.

And we waited.

Did I mention both hubby's mom and my dad are type 1 diabetics? Mother-in-law is low and getting lower. So finally, and and father-in-law just go down and get food.

They pass someone who works there on the way and mention that's what they're doing and that then prompts a server and drink orders. But she doesn't say what sorts of drinks they have, so in trying to order something for the youngest I have to go through four options before I get to something that's carried.

We decide we might as well also go get food. So as in laws return, we all toddle down to get in line. I let my family precede me, and kind of bring up the rear while helping youngest with his plate. I glance over at the omelette station - no one manning it. Maybe they ran in the back for something? I don't know. Fine, I'll put a hold on that. So I pick up the last plate and file through the chafing dishes of mediocrity.

There are biscuits, pancakes, french toast, gravy, seafood newberg, steamed veggies, meat swimming in some kind of sauce, chicken swimming in another, sausage/bacon/ham, and chilled shrimp. There's a table that clearly used to have fresh fruit, but no longer does. And the afore mentioned unmanned omelette station.

We get food - sort of - and tromp back upstairs to start to eat.

Except no one has silverware.

The drinks haven't arrived yet, so we think we'll ask when those come. And we sit and stare at our plates. And wait. And stare. And wait. And stare. The drinks finally come and we ask about silverware.

And the kids start eating with their fingers.

Then the adults do, too.

Silverware did finally arrive.

Plates at the buffet never did.

Really it was all a disaster. And kid behavior was subpar. And no one really enjoyed the food or the dining experience. And it was crazily expensive.

So really, I'm kind of glad that Easter has come and gone this year, because as thankful as I am for my Savior?

Today sucked.