Motherhood: Easter Scrapbook

For the past five years, a dear friend has invited me to be a part of a girls ski weekend at Snowbird.  It is so much fun, and I look forward to it all year.  This year, the trip fell over Easter weekend.  With no family here to share the holiday with him, my husband made the best of things.

The fun began for him the night before when he was waiting to get the baskets ready.   It was Easter for dummies: I had left three bags labeled with all the contents ready to be physically put into the baskets along with fake grass.  I knew he was totally capable, but I wanted to make it easy for him.  When a friend on the trip told me that her husband was back home dyeing brown Easter eggs with her kids, I felt good about my decision to prepare things in advance.  At around 11 p.m., Gordie anxiously texted me that the kids were still awake, and suspicious about the actual existence of the Easter bunny.   Once they fell asleep, he went into Hadley’s room, where he found this note:

If you’re having trouble understanding it, she informed the Easter bunny that she was leaving him a present this year: a piece of candy.  Proof positive that my six-year old was becoming a thoughtful little person immediately touched my heart.  Little did I know what he would find next to it:

(Could I have an iPod touch?)

Since when do kids think Easter is a close second to Christmas?  I considered the Ghirardelli chocolate bunnies to be an upgrade this year, and now they want electronics in their baskets?

I was thrilled that my husband actually got the kids to church on Easter morning.  When he sent me this photo, I could not help but wonder what on earth my son was wearing.  Was he in training to become a night club bouncer?  They ran into one of  their favorite babysitters, who is standing with them.

On the other hand, the girls are in darling dresses and they ALL deserve an “A” for their efforts.  It made me so happy that they spent an hour soaking up the true meaning of the holiday in an actual church.  Later that day they went to Boston, where they walked through the Common, went to lunch, and visited the Children’s Museum.

Clearly the kids had a great time with their dad.  I think in the end, they didn’t really miss me too much.  This was highlighted by the fact that one of my children called me a “Mean little lady” yesterday after school when I was policing Easter basket consumption.  “Daddy let us all eat as much candy as we wanted for breakfast yesterday you know, so you don’t always have to be so strict!”

It never takes long for a mother to regain her status as “bad cop” after a brief hiatus away, does it?