So without further ado, here is one slightly stale "How we spent our Easter" post.
Alternate blog title: Are you happy now, Amity and Catey?
(That's right. I called you out for
Up first, a Thurb-Bunny. I can only assume that he was downstairs keeping a lookout for a more traditional Easter mascot. I repaid his dedication to protecting the family and his food dish by hiring someone to shave him. No, really, I did. Photos to come on that one later. Maybe by Christmas.
And this? Well, this is Charlie with her very first Easter basket. No, it's not her first Easter, but I
am a terrible mother hell-bent on ruining every holiday with lack of festivities and late blog posts didn't think a three month old (last year) would appreciate a basket full of sugar quite as much as a 15-month-old (this year). That, and a year ago I was much better about what I ate since the kid was nursing, like, every half hour. This year? Bah! Sure, she still wanders up to me asking for milk, but it's a lot easier to distract her with a Cadbury Creme Egg these days.
(Embarrassing admission: I had to look up whether it was "creme" or "cream." If we had any of them left, I'm pretty sure I'd have to give one up as punishment.)
Oh, and by the way, the basket clenched in Charlie's lil' hands was once clenched in my lil' hands, but I find it hard to believe that mine were ever as cute as hers.
In addition to candy, the Easter Bunny also tried to make my kid smarter.
|(Tweety Bird basket from Grandma Vickie & Grandpa Joe!)|
The magic of the aforementioned Cadbury Creme Eggs is seen below. (Don't worry Charlie, you're not the first person to display a double chin in the presence of a Cadbury Egg.)
If you ask Charlie, however, the real magic of the Easter basket was not the candy (though it was good), and it certainly wasn't the flashcards (pfft!).
It was the pink "grass" that somehow got spread all over the living room.
If only we knew how that happened...
Skip ahead a few hours. Have some time to kill? You should probably just follow someone around taking their picture. People love that. Especially toddlers.
The real point of these pictures is to point out that after much hemming and hawing, I cut Charlie's hair. OK, that sounds more impressive than the reality of me grabbing a flap of her long, born-with-it hair and snipping it to be the same length as her grew-in-later, thicker hair. But still, first haircut!
And it happened just before Easter, so it belongs in this post, right?
|Charlie is clearly delighted with her new 'do.|
Easter basket? Check!
Educational toy? Check! (And eye roll.)
It must be time for a bit of egg hunting at Gramma Kate and Grampa Greg's house.
Yes, yes, it is.
Charlie's buddy (and surrogate big sister) Jordyn helped teach Charlie the ropes. For the record, Jordyn is a very patient teacher. Charlie is a less receptive student.
Unless you count her dedication to mastering a surly, "Don't tell me to pick up these eggs, I didn't drop them out here!" demeanor, in which case, A+!
So, Easter eggs? Blah.
Big, rubber ball? Suh-weet! And also worthy of some very deep, introspective thinking.
And then there was the obligatory Easter family photo. Obligatory because I SAID SO! Nah, everyone was delighted with my suggestion that we pose for a family shot. Charlie couldn't get enough. She just wanted us to keep asking her to stay still and look at the camera. She was nothing but smiles and joy.
|Is it just me, or does she look like she's really contemplating the merits of spitting on my head?|
But, BUT! We got one. Sure, Joe might be the only one facing the camera, but thanks to the angle on my girl and me, my friend Sue pointed out that Charlie's nose wrinkles like mine when she smiles. And that, family and friends, is worth her thinking about spitting on me.
What a difference a year makes!
I hope you all had a wonderful Easter. And Mother's Day. And, well, have a Happy Thanksgiving, too, in case I don't get to tell you that until next February.
(OK, one more embarrassing admission: I totally airbrushed the bags out from under my eyes in the "Last Year" photo. True, I couldn't erase the dead-tired look in my gaze, but at least my skin looks fresh!)