The things they say . . .

He's starting young . . .

Owen (age 4) stated to my 28 year old friend who stopped by . . .

"Hey, how about we leave my mom and dad here with the kids and just you and me go out on a date."

You know age won't matter when she's 92 and he's 68 . . . it won't seem quite so odd then . . . umm, on second thought - yeah, it will . . .

more Easter . . .

The local Hawk family members got together at Ryan and Ruth's new house to celebrate 5 birthdays, search for Easter eggs, cut down trees and eat lots of food.

Buff is explaining the rules - find 24 eggs each -
and giving the heart-broken Kerry the news that she is too old to participate this year.

Buff explaining again that they only get 24 eggs - and there is one super egg with $5 in it . . .
and just as a reminder . . . they only get 24 eggs.

What you can't see here is Grandma requiring a posed pre-hunt photo while re-explaining that they ONLY get 24 eggs each.

Carra and Owen with their loot.
You can't tell here - but Carra had 29 eggs.
She wasn't listening and messed up the whole system . . .
Either that or she can't count.
(I'm sure this will be coming up at her next parent-teacher conference . . . ).

Then they played an exciting round of
"pin-the -tail-on-the-bunny."

But Brice decided to make it more exciting
and played "pin-the-tail-on-the-entertainment-center."
Obviously, Carra and Elaine were quite amused. . .

Elaine got another Webkinz horse for her birthday.
We were all relieved to hear that the two horses
are now officially married since they will be living together.
This is the official wedding kiss that Elaine
requested I put on the blog.
Congratulations.

And the highlight of the day was
when the Easter giraffe showed up.
We were trying to start a new Easter tradition . . .

But I'm not so sure I want to believe in this guy either . . .

Easter

In an attempt to redeem my failing "mother-of-the-year" status, I agreed to decorate eggs with my kids this year. I honestly believe it is the first time in my 12 year mothering career that I have done this . . . now you can see why this "mother-of-the-year" award is so fleeting. Young children, permanent egg stain & eggs just never seemed like a good combination to me. Besides nobody likes to eat boiled eggs except me (and occasionally Carra if armed with a full bottle of ranch dressing).

(An interesting story could be inserted here about an unwritten pre-nuptial agreement and boiled eggs - but that would be a rabbit trail - no Easter pun intended . . . )

I decided to go ahead and fight the fight upfront and not boil the eggs. I figured the kids won't eat them, but the kids will treasure them, the eggs will rot, the eggs will stink, the mom will throw the eggs away, the kids will cry, the mom will roll her eyes and never do this again.

So we didn't boil.

We blew.

(Can you see the vein popping out in his forehead??)

We dipped.



We spilled.


We drew.



We dunked.



We created.


And I survived.

I don't know if I'll get "mother-of-the-year" but in the end I did get happy kids, fun memories and a big mess . . . what more could a mother ask for (other than a maid)???