I love Easter. I love the pastel dresses, the music, the promise of the Resurrection. And I love the candy (but you already knew that). I wore this dress I bought when I was very, very pregnant with Porter and it's too short, it kept riding up in the back. Poo. I think I'll cut it off and make it into a blouse. Also, my maternity pantyhose sprung a HUGE run and half of my knee - the fat side, not the bony front - was on display from Sacrament Meeting onward. I don't love maternity pantyhose.
We went to an egg hunt at Betsy's school on Saturday. I like how it was set up, where each kid got to pick up exactly 18 eggs - no stress, no pushing or shoving. Also no sunshine, but that's okay. The kids still had a good time (even if I didn't get any pictures because none of the stupid camera batteries worked. Do I not pretty much always have issues?) and brought home some candy. Porter even won a prize - he chose a little blue stuffed birdie which, I'm told, goes peep peep peep. Also, those Dark Chocolate Caramel Crunch eggs are pretty tasty. Err, I'm told.
Sunday, we had Easter baskets for the kids, then church. Mike and Mandy came up in the afternoon for dinner, bringing with them both Baby Miles and the tastiest cheese ever. (Actually, Miles is pretty tasty too, what with those fat cheeks and all. Silly me, I forgot to take a picture of him in his festive little outfit. Just take my word for it that he was ridiculously cute.) Dinner was nothing fancy - just your garden variety ham and potatoes and green beans and rolls. What can I say except that I am one hundred and nineteen weeks pregnant, and it's somehow killing my domesticity (probably because Amy is laying on it. No wait, that's my bladder.) I did manage to muster up the energy to make a stabby cake which was quite delicious, especially with a jelly bean chaser.
We also hid some eggs around the living room/dining room for the kids. This year, Porter remembered that there was candy inside so he only picked up about three eggs because he was distracted by the eating. Betsy, on the other hand, seems to understand that you should put all your eggs in one basket because otherwise your little brother will get them.
Umm, could she be any cuter? That's the dress that Mom made for me back in 1985 (although the lady down the street had to do the smocking). I've had it in the cedar chest for the last couple of years, just waiting until Betsy got big enough. I did have to make one small repair to it - the yoke was coming apart at one of the side seams - and again, it was an interesting peek into Mom's sewing techniques. No, there weren't any basting stitches left in this time, but I'm guessing you wouldn't have done those lovely French seams if you'd had a serger back in '85, huh Mom? There's also a matching baby dress out there somewhere, and I'm hoping it turns up by next Easter. Because seriously. Betsy and Amy in the dresses Mom made for Emily and me, when we were kids? Couldn't you just die? I even have the perfect scrapbook paper for it.*Note to self: Don't try and highlight your own hair, no matter how easy the instructions make it seem. Also, don't try and eat a Cadbury Creme Egg while driving. I don't care if it was half price, just don't do it. (That's right, people, two brilliant ideas for the price of one!)
