I don’t know why it’s so funny, but I laugh like I’m drunk looking at Easter Bunny pictures.

First, his entrance.

It’s just funny. He can barely get through the door because toddlers are up in his Justin Bieber biz. And while these kids are smiling, pawing at him, entranced by his presence, they are–simultaneously–terrified, uneasy, ready at any given moment to run crying to their mom if he twitches the wrong way. He never talks–just waves his large paws while adults stand awkwardly watching and taking pictures.

Lainey and Baylee stood and stared at him first–frozen.

Until they mustered up the courage to face him as a duo. It helped that Lainey thought to bring him carrots from our garden. Except when she went to give him the carrots, his paws couldn’t really grasp them very good. So she laid them in the crook of his thigh, unbeknownst to him.

I’m laughing watching the whole scene play out because I know that my kid just wants him to see that she brought him carrots and it’s not happening. She picks them up and replaces them, but he still doesn’t see. So she walks away while the bunny is left shaking other kids’ hands, having no idea there is a heap of carrots slipping inappropriately toward the crotch region. Funny stuff.

Our neighborhood has an Easter party every year and this year, it was fantastic. Baby chicks and bunnies–what’s not to love?

Even if this chick pooped in our stroller.

Lainey loves animals, but I’m not sure I’ve met a kid who doesn’t. She does however possess gentle instincts. She knows how to hold a baby chick without strangling it, that bunnies are best clutched tightly so they don’t hop away, and that little dogs don’t like to be dressed in baby clothes and pushed in strollers. Okay, we’re working on the last one.

FYI: red eyes on bunnies freak me out.

Nella was curious, yet cautious.

The rest of the weekend played out like cherished memories of my childhood. Lainey cried over what she was going to wear (“No, I’m sorry you can’t wear a fur vest, a winter bunny hat, and thick tights to the outdoor egg hunt.”), Brett and I stayed up late stuffing eggs and filling baskets, and then we sat back and watched proof that it’s always, always worth it.

In between gatherings and celebrations we snuck off to the beach, a different beach that always seems special when we visit. Maybe it’s the long tram ride we have to take through the mangroves to get there or the hidden bay that’s shallow enough to collect schools of minnows ripe for netting. We didn’t stay long but enough to make a castle, walk the shoreline and gather one large bucket of plain and common shells and one small cup of extraordinary ones.

I like the discovery of extraordinary shells, the celebration of once-in-a-while holidays, the big to-do over events that are special.

Easter dinner at the boys’ mom’s house.

But in the end, it’s the plain and common shells that sustain us. They come by the bucketful, and they are good.

Have you seen these human hamster wheels? We borrowed our neighbor’s. Loads of fun.

The balance of plain and extraordinary is a little tipped the next few weeks as we have some travel and will be shuffling around parenting duties, airline tickets, family celebrations, and nesting at home. I get a little uneasy sometimes when the scale tips, but I’m learning to let go and enjoy the ride. More to come.

I hope your family had a colorful weekend.

Congratulations to Mountain Aven Baby gift certificate winner, Commenter #615 V.wiest: I am enjoying the thoughts of spring as I eat a fresh roma tomato, a short weekend with my new husband who lives 3 hours away because he’s still in school AND I am reaaaallly enjoying being just over 7 weeks pregnant with our first little peanut 🙂.

V.Wiest, Please send your contact info to [email protected], and you’ll be able to pick out some cute baby goods soon!

Happy Monday!

Lainey’s bicycle dress, All the Numbers.

Thankfully for me, Lainey’s activity of choice lately has been coloring. I like coloring–so much that often, after a while, she runs off to find something else to do and I am left coloring, happily, while laundry waits and kids make messes. I color like it’s my job–shading, highlighting, scribbling flecks of contrasting color into Barbie’s hair or deliberating much too long over Wild Raspberry or Hot Magenta for the stripes in Strawberry Shortcake’s shirt. I am selective in my crayon choice and have been known to choose colors based on their names alone. You would understand this if you’re familiar with Crayola’s Box ‘o 96, featuring Macaroni n’ Cheese, a warm soft orange, or Wild Blue Yonder, a murky mountainous blue.

I’ve also been known to throw out a perfectly good picture and start over if I’ve colored outside the lines or, God forbid, misjudged the intensity of Jungle Green (which, for the record, is far too vibrant for an eye color choice). So it has been a good parenting exercise for me to encourage the freedom of expression that’s so beautifully demonstrated by Lainey when she colors–sometimes out of the lines, sometimes all one color, but every time, her own style. And while I’m carefully gliding my yellow crayon (Laser Lemon, to be precise) along a flower petal to add depth and she’s decided Shamrock is a nice choice for Bert ‘n Ernie’s faces, I’ve come to the conclusion that not only is it okay, but it’s pretty cool that my girl does her own thing and stands by it. There are no rules to creativity.

But we do draw the line on where you choose to color (although a purple smiley face scribbled on the inside of the girls’ closet door begs to differ).

Nella breaks the rules.

Weekending…
My shattered phone has been replaced but before I synced my contacts, I enjoyed a calm weekend with a quiet phone–which overlapped to a vacant computer and a mama caved-in. Heidi calls it “the cave”–the secret place we retreat to when we’re subconsciously overwhelmed or too busy. It usually involves–without even intention–ignoring the phone, letting e-mails stack up and hibernating to the inner depths of our homes where we bake, read books or, in my case, color. Retreating to the cave is a necessary occurance for me–a replenishing inverse from the go-and-do-and-see times. I like both ends of the spectrum–the thrill of adventure and showing my girls new things as well as the comfort and convenience of routine and feeling settled.

Holidays make me feel settled, and traditions like dyeing eggs connect me to all the puddles of nostalgic happiness that dwell so fondly in my memory and fuel me to recreate them for my own family. So we did. We colored eggs this weekend.

I love that there is no reason behind this tradition. Or rather there is, but when I Googled the historical explanation, it didn’t excite me the same way that “because it’s fun” did. And I’m totally cool with doing elaborate things with my kids for no reason at all.

There is something strangely thrilling about dunking these pure and delicate little ovoids (the proper name, I learned) into cups of color and waiting while they transform. Or watching as Lainey leans over to carefully check their color progression, tipping them just above the color line with her spoon and, like a stylist refolding the foil after inspecting unfinished highlights, she says “not quite yet” and slowly drops the egg back down.

Nella, on the other hand, took every egg I handed her and threw it which, of course, thrilled her sister.

We had to remove her from the situation as Lainey didn’t appreciate the way she handled the eggs.

Just as in coloring, I held back my dyeing critique and watched, cringing, as Lainey did it her own way–plopping two eggs into one cup, dipping them quickly from one hue to another, mixing dissonant colors, cracking shells and yet completely satisfied with her results.

Turns out, the splotchiness adds to the beauty of her vibrant little egg art.

The weekend would not have been complete without the following bit of unearthly loveliness. I actually have to stop and gather my thoughts for a moment because it is quite possible words will not do justice the deliciousness that is–there needs to be some kind of drumroll here–Haagen Dazs Five Lemon (stop, applaud, bow–it’s worthy). Add this to your Bag of Tricks, fo sho.

My sister’s been telling me about it for a long time and I finally gave in and bought some while I browsed the grocery store waiting for Austyn and his friend to pick out a movie at the neighboring Blockbuster this weekend. You see that little hump of ice cream left in that picture? That’s what’s left after I used my finger as a spoon in the Publix parking lot. Only five ingredients–milk, sugar, eggs, cream and lemon–but more than five non-repeatable exclamations that followed my first bite. And I’m sure it’s like the coolest thing for a sixteen-year-old to have his friend along on the ride where his stepmom is driving twenty under the speed limit because she’s balancing navigating a steering wheel with shoveling ice cream with her finger.

Finally, our “caving it” weekend was completed with pruned toes.

Like life, we swam both ends of the spectrum. The go-and-do-and-see of adventurous jumps and loud splashes…

…and the calm repose of tranquil floats and quiet wading.

Our new $10 kiddie pool makes water play much more fun and accessible for Nella.

And it’s only April. It’s just beginning.

Looking forward to some upcoming traveling, out of the cave, and plenty more retreats at home, in the cave, where we belong.

Congratulations to the winner of the $40 gift certificate from The Meg Shop:
Comment #859, Kim: time. one of the things in my bag of tricks (for myself). observantly spent time. to find out what it is i need. often a couple of minutes is enough. take a breather, have a coffee/tea/wine and enjoy. simple as that. PS: that b/w pic of nella in her pjs has got to be one of the cutest ones ever! what a beauty.

Kim, please e-mail your contact info to [email protected], and you’ll soon be richer in the jewelry department.

Your “Bag of Tricks” were insightful, funny, and enjoyable to read. Thank you for sharing!

The full moon may symbolize crazy, hectic, frantic…

Left, Saturday night; Right, Sunday night

…but our weekend was just what we ordered: over easy

My girl and her kite-tail flowing hair.

Happy Monday.

Happy LOVE Day.

In keeping with my holiday freak flag flyin’ schedule, I thought I should let you know today has it unfurled and wildly flapping.

Evidence A: the excuse to bust out the lace tights I’ve been dying to wear.

Verdict is I like them very much.

Evidence B:

Our Valentine’s Day sugar cookie buzz tradition. Just how much sugar can one pile onto an already sugar-filled cookie? Lainey is determined to find out.

Evidence C:

We’re going out tonight. On a real date. Where we dress up and have a babysitter (okay, my dad, but still). And because this doesn’t happen very often, I enjoy the prolonged process of getting ready that begins with a long bath with the girls and, after a trio of home pedicures, a few cups of hot tea and letting Lainey pick out my lip gloss, it ends with reconnecting with a pair of teetering heels from back in the day when I wore teetering heels almost every day.

Evidence D. Well, actually this has nothing to do with Valentine’s Day or love unless you count the fact that I love weekend outings which is really stretching it, so let’s just scratch the whole evidence thing and call this second part of the post “We Went to the Zoo Yesterday.”

We Went to the Zoo Yesterday.

And being that I’d love to start the getting ready ritual early for tonight, I’m making this quick.

My dad holds Nella like a sack of flour. It freaks me out, but she loves it and he loves that it freaks me out.

It was grand.

Happy Love Day!