A long time ago on this blog, I would have written 4 posts this week about all the stuff we did. Egg dying! Brunch! The Easter Bunny!

But 2 and a half extra kids later, I’m just pretty excited we actually DID the stuff, rather than the fact that I blogged about it. Or even took pictures of it. I don’t have a single photo of brunch. Is that growth? I can’t tell anymore. I really love the part of blogging that means all these things are documented (because God knows the baby books are all massive failures). But how much longer can I even keep this minimum effort up? Who thought it was a good idea to have so many kids? Will I ever catch up on the ten million things I should be doing right now?

Well that was a lot of unnecessary ennui for what was supposed to be a picture post. Look! Children doing cute things!

Egg dyeing tip #1: Buy all the dye kits on clearance the week after Easter and save them for next year.
Egg dyeing tip #2: Do it while the toddler naps.

Our church Easter egg hunt is a joy. Plenty of eggs for everyone in a small area and everyone is willing to share.

Linc did not yet understand the point of egg hunting.

Our town egg hunt was also fun, if slightly less…generous. Poor Evan’s age group was 6-12 year old and he got 3 eggs. Luckily Linc did a LOT better this time so he had plenty to share.

I absolutely stooped to bribery to get Evan’s face painted. I promised the Easter bunny would bring him something special (because the Easter bunny had already purchased a Lego set).

Our actual Easter day wasn’t such a joy. Linc didn’t sleep at all the night before and needed a nap during church, so I took the big kids while E stayed home with him. Caroline was super mad we didn’t walk to church (it was cold). They kids ate a ton of candy and were a mess by brunch, where Evan ate nothing but carrots and celery. Unfortunately, even if you only eat carrots and celery your meal still costs $22. And Linc screamed every time I got up to get food and left him at the table (surrounded by food, it’s not like he was starving). He also refused to be in any photos, so my cute coordinating children’s outfits were in vain.

BUT but Caroline and Evan happily shouted about how Jesus escaped from the tomb (Evan) and how being aliver is better than being deader (Caroline) during the children’s message at church, so at least we’ve gotten that part right.

The Easter Bunny left eggs all over the house, plus the baskets.

On Friday I went to Stroller Strides at the mall and saw that they had the same weird Ben Franklin Easter Bunny they’ve had for the last few years, so I knew I had to find somewhere else. About an hour later my phone buzzed with a reminder I set up two weeks ago that the Easter Bunny was going to be at the zoo the next day. I LOVE when my past self does helpful crap like that. How do I get my past self to not eat so many cheeseburgers so I wouldn’t have to be on a diet now?

Anyway, E had to work so I was on my own for Easter Bunny festivities. I set the bar REALLY low – if we were in the same room as an Easter Bunny and no one cried, we’d call it a success – but we had one of those magical outings where everyone listened, everyone had fun and everyone wore themselves out so they went to bed easily (and slept in the next day!). I think we were all just so relieved to be OUTSIDE in the SUNLIGHT that we couldn’t have had a bad time if we tried. Wait, that’s obviously a lie. Children can ALWAYS have a bad time. Children can be in a bouncy castle filled with candy, pizza and grape soda while all their parents are horsewhipped for that time they made them go to bed early and at least one of them would stand in the corner crying “But I like ORANGE soda!” To sum up our zoo trip? Super fun.

Since our visit with Santa was so adorable, I figured we should add to our collection of overpriced holiday photos with a visit to the Easter Bunny. I  bought a cute semi-dressy outfit from The Children’s Place (although little boy Easter clothes are a joke compared to the fiveteenbazillionty spring dresses available for little girls A JOKE I TELL YOU), picked a time when I didn’t think it would be busy, and dragged the baby and myself off to Crystal Mall.

It did not go well.

Maybe I should have picked a day when Baby Evan had a good nap and wasn’t sort of cranky to be in the stroller. Maybe I should have brought E along for back-up crazy arm-waving and clapping to distract the baby. Maybe I should known ahead of time my infant son wasn’t going to be into the giant menacing rabbit whose lap I suddenly thrust him into and then walked away. I mean, do you want to be left with this guy?

NOT THE ACTUAL BUNNY AT THE CRYSTAL MALL

That’s how the Easter Bunny looked through Baby Evan’s eyes.

Besides the fact that the baby hated the whole scenario, I have some real problems with their Easter Bunny set up.

What’s with the paint-spattered drop cloth as a background? Is the Easter Bunny remodeling his…borough? Cave? House? And what’s with the mint-green lifeguard stand in the corner? Why are those extra bunnies wearing do-rags? And the biggest question, why is the Easter Bunny wearing Benjamin Franklin’s glasses and also possibly his overcoat? Did the Easter Bunny kill Ben Franklin? Is that how he became immortal? OMG is the Easter Bunny a VAMPIRE?

Now you can understand why Baby Evan didn’t like him.

I gave up taking pictures with my own camera and tried to comfort my poor traumatized babycakes. He was ok as long as we weren’t in the actual photo area but every time I got anywhere near the Easter Bunny he started crying again. With the help of the very patient photo-taker lady we managed to get ONE photo in which Baby Evan isn’t shaking with anger and fear.

Unfortunately, I am also in the photo, along with my totally makeup free face and the edge of my nursing bra. GORGEOUS. At least you can’t tell my hair is still wet in the back.

Seriously though, what is UP with that bunny’s outfit? And why am I vaguely disturbed that he’s not wearing pants?

Well, I guess the good news is Baby Evan probably won’t grow up to be a furry.

(Dear Mom and Grandma, PLEASE DON’T ASK WHAT THAT IS. And for the love of God don’t Google it.)