Pack it all in

I often have great intentions to do fun things with the kids, but sometimes I just get a little overwhelmed by my own ideas. Then either the time will pass, or I try to cram it all into one fun filled day. Last Friday was just one of those days. I realized I had done nothing with the kids for Easter. So I pulled out some sugar cookie dough I had in the freezer and we made some cookies.

I sometimes find it difficult to balance letting the kids be kids and make messes and have fun, and the idealized movie version I play in my head while setting-up the activity. Poor SweetPea and Bubba. There is no way they can know what my head has made-up. It is a good thing we have fun despite my romanticized notions.

Some how they always know I have something fun planned because they show-up in the preparation stage, which is a bad time to show-up. All you get is "just wait," "don't touch," "hold on," "give me a minute," and "not yet" And I always seem rushed and something ends-up a not quite right. This time, it was the frosting. Some colors I just didn't make enough of, some ended-up soupy (which is weird since it was all made at the same time,) and it was ALL messy.

I of course helped the kids. The story in my head had pretty cookies with perfect icing. HELLO- they are both under 5 (Bubba isn't even 2 yet!) What kid under 5 can hold a pastry bag. When I took a cake decorating class there was a significant number of ADULTS who couldn't figure out the pastry bag. (as a side note, even Martha Stewart has trouble getting the "ideal" response from kids.)

We ended-up with two cookie sheets full of cookies. The first sheet I got just about perfect. They weren't under baked or over baked. If only the second sheet could have been so lucky. I completely forgot about it! At some point things clicked in my head, so I ran for the kitchen. I opened the baby gate and reached for the oven and as i took the next step I realized I was stepping ON something and it was not going to let me maintain my course, which would be on my feet. As I am falling I am praying I do not pull the oven out of the wall on top of myself, cuz not only would it be a mess, and expensive to fix and replace, but it would be HOT. A shower of hot sugar cookies is not what I want at the time. But the oven held and I landed in the trash can instead. It isn't very often that you are thankful to land in the trash! The cookies, amazingly, were still edible. The orange that caused the fall, not as much. (yes, I stepped on and rolled upon an entire unpeeled orange. I am not exactly sure how it ended-up on the kitchen floor, but I have a hunch it has something to do with Bubba.)

Later that evening we dyed eggs. I really try hard to not let the kids in on any planned ideas. I keep them in the dark as much as possible that way everything is a surprised. Not to mention, I don't have to be badgered with a millions questions regarding when something will happen. But sometimes they figure it out. This time boiling eggs was the give away. But somehow they managed to wait for Hubbs to come home.
Hubbs and I decided to do our Easter egg hunt on Saturday morning. I would like to say it is for some noble reason like keeping the Easter Bunny separate from the the religious reason for Easter, but truly, ore reasoning was purely pragmatic. We just have trouble getting the Church on time. I used to be a punctual person, but I am far out numbered now and I just can't get ahead of the game. So having an egg hunt added to the schedule would not work. Not to mention I knew I would get home Late Saturday evening (I was working at a consignment sale,) so Easter preparations just seemed daunting and tiring.

I remember as a kid running into my parents room as soon as I woke-up to wake my parents so we could get to huntin'. It never seemed that early to me, but now that I am on the other side of the encounter I just have to say "I am sorry mom and dad." I woke-up to SweetPea jumping up and down on hubbs' back yelling "wake-up, the Easter Bunny came and brought baskets and ....." with a detailed list of ever item she had already found. I began to cry from laughter, until SweetPea realized I was awake and switched her attention to me. At which point I begged her to get off before she broke my bladder. I ran to the bathroom laughing so hard at the realization I was living a caricature.

We hid the eggs in the kids playroom. When I rounded the corner of entry to the room I found Bubba sitting in the middle of a circle of plastic grass and basket contents. There were plastic eggs scattered about and chocolate slobber running down his chin. I just hope I remember for next year that we need to make things a little less accessible by the children and maybe set an alarm to wake us up. Things all happened so fast I wasn't even able to get my camera. Not to mention for some reason SweetPea was running around in her underwear, so picture taking seemed a bit odd. We did find all the eggs, I counted twice. And we were still late for Church the next morning.