Easter

A Happy Easter to One and All!

This year I knew it wasn't going to be a big affair.  Jude still doesn't know what's going on, can't eat all that candy, and Jeff and I are trying to toe the healthy line.  I threw some Cadbury Mini Eggs into oh, about 5 fillable eggs, 1 Reese's egg (my choice), and 1 classic Cadbury Egg (Jeff's choice) into baskets for  my boys, and that was that.  When I was little I would've sold both of my thumbs on the black market for a Cadbury egg with the orange and white filling...oh the dreams I had.  Those didn't often make it into our baskets and in adulthood I understand why.  Those things are disgusting.  The only good thing about them is the shell.  Filled with fruity flavored sugar goop?  There is such a thing as too sweet and the texture-particular side of me starts wailing sirens at the sight.

Sidenote: I also threw a Greek yogurt into Jude's basket and a Diet Coke in Jeff's to save him a walk to the fridge.  Yes, yes, my kindness knows no boundaries.

My kindness is about to extend to an insight into our morning:

Jude finally loves playing in the bath and I give him one pretty much every day.  Since I insisted on washing him in the sink for almost his first year, I had no bath toys and nothing to keep him from sliding around in the tub and cracking his head open, or at the very least knocking out all of his teeth.  I picked up some bath accouterments, among them some letters and numbers that will stick to the tub walls when wet.  

This morning as we scrubbed our Jude, Jeff started putting random letters on the wall:

"J is for Juju,

V is for Valentine's Day when you were born,

5 is the age you aren't yet,

C is for the grades we hope you don't get,

F is for a word we never, ever, ever say...."

I'll say it again, I love my JH.

It's funny how holidays really do get you thinking about your childhood holidays.  I've said before my parents were not obsessive about pictures, much less formal or professional pictures.  Obviously the digital revolution has made photo obsession easier and more justifiable, but anyway.  My mom DID very often get an Easter picture, probably because she very often made us matching Easter dresses.  Empire waists, ribbon tying in the back, lace, Ralph Lauren-ish florals, you know what I be talkin. 

So this morning as we're getting out the door, I, the pusher of family photos, realized not only had I not planned a photo, but Jude was not wearing an Easter outfit and the sun was blazingly bright.  Without time to set up a tripod, this is all we got:

Until next year, EBunny!