The Least Classy Easter Ever

You know what they say: Another year, another Easter. Right. No they don't.

Anyways, Easter this year seemed to hop right on in and right back out just as quickly as ever. Maybe it has to do with the fact that winter never seemed to arrive, and the spring has sprung everything forward so much faster than before. Or maybe it has to do with the fact that we have so much to do. All the time. Regardless, Easter was fun.

 

Festivities began with Summit's egg hunt at his preschool and ended with an egg hunt at Popi and Babi's house. The boys in Summit's class celebrated with a party on the Thursday before Spring Break. They really are cute, and their teachers really are smart, because they came up with a genius idea to write the boys' names on the eggs to let them know which ones to pick up so not one kid got too many or one too few. Love the foresight. Love it.

The egg hunt at my parents' house could use a little tweaking... or the decision to NOT let Matt "hide" the prizes. His tactics were to just throw, haphazardly, bags of Skittles and mini Snickers around the yard while the eggs were placed in tree stump holes and beneath leaves. Huh. Also not jiving was the kids' newfound competitive nature with the whole hunt. It was like having NFL football players vying for the pigskin. I don't know how many times baskets were completely knocked over or hardboiled eggs were smashed unnecessarily. Oh well. What can you do? Oh yeah. You can put those little monsters into time out and make them watch while you eat their Peeps. THAT'S what you can do.

Easter was capped off with a wiffle ball baseball game in the front yard at Popi and Babi's house. A game filled with Matt's interesting batting abilities, and by interesting, I mean unfortunate. A game filled with Ella striking Kent out. A game filled with my mom's odd, leaned back base-running. A game that was awesome. So awesome and so filled with laughter, unstoppable laughter...that I could not cross my legs enough to prevent myself from peeing in my pants not once, but TWICE. That's right. Twice. I felt like Maya Rudolph in Bridesmaids when she's trying to cross the street to find a bathroom after she's struck with a bout of food poisoning, and she just drops to the ground, knowing she can't make it in time. That was me, sans the number two business, in the front yard at my parents' house, in front of my kids, husband, parents, brothers, and John Wesley's date...whom I'd never met before. Oh well. What can you do? Oh yeah. You can't do anything at all except sit in the grass and laugh and pee. I love being pregnant. I love having this baby push on my bladder every second of every day.

So, some of you all might be thinking, "Wow. That was just about the least classy Easter ever." Perhaps. Perhaps you're correct. However. It was fun. A whole lot of fun. And, I'd do it all over again in a heart beat.