Bonus:

Jumping!

And we wouldn’t want Caroline to feel left out:

Cracker Face

Since I have about fiveteenbazillionty people visiting right now for Baby Evan’s birthday, I was really hoping to find an Friday activity we could all enjoy more than starting at each other. Or cleaning my stove. Which is apparently my dad’s idea of a fun afternoon activity. Luckily, I was able to rudely invade my play group’s Easter egg hunt at the local park, because standing around staring becomes an acceptable pass time when there are children at which to stare. Of course I mean stare in a totally non-creepy, not in the bushes, not driving a windowless van sort of way.

Besides, it’s not like I had anything better to do than buy, stuff, and hide 30 plastic eggs. I don’t have much going on right now. You know, nothing like a ridiculously elaborate, hand crafted birthday party for 45 people. Nope, not me.

All the pretty baskets

Baby Evan enjoys story time before the hunt started. P.S. DON'T EVEN ASK ME ABOUT WHY HE HAS A GIANT BANDAGE ON HIS FOREHEARD.

OK, LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT HIS HEAD. It's really not a big deal. Baby Evan fell this morning and smashed his head on the support post in our kitchen. I'm told he wasn't actually that upset but the bump is HUGE. Even huger than the bump from our emergency room trip.

Baby Evan's cousin Ethan liked finding the eggs, but was very disappointed most of them didn't contain candy. All the mommies made wise choices so most of them had stickers and organic snack mix.

Baby Evan didn't really care what was in them. He just liked that they were round and brightly colored.

Ethan did somehow manage to find the only two eggs on the entire playground that had chocolate in them. Boy, that kid really likes candy. Saturday is going to BLOW HIS MIND.

Awesome, now I have a whole bunch of really useful plastic eggs.

OK, so the bump has gone down a lot since this morning and I'm hoping he'll be improved enough before the party that no band-aid is better than band-aid. Or maybe I'll just find some circus themed band-aids and pretend it was on purpose.

In New England, as soon as we get that one glorious day of warm above freezing weather everyone goes berserk with spring fever and breaks out their flip-flops and skirts and shorts and starts acting like it’s 85 degrees out. The stores put all their jeans and sweaters on clearance and start selling bathing suits and sandals (True story – about two weeks after giving birth last April I went out to buy some non-maternity jeans to wear until I fit into my old ones. It took four stores to find one really terrible, overpriced pair because everyone was selling SHORTS). No one cares that one 45 degree day in March is usually followed by six more weeks of winter. We could get two feet of snow tomorrow and half my state would still be out in their gardens planting flowers, insisting it’s just a fluke storm and summer is just around the corner.

Having lived in New England for approximately half my life (on and off) I fall victim to this false spring every. single. year. I think it’s a form of self-preservation, since if you don’t fully enjoy the few warm days we get in February and March you’ll be hiding in a dark room banging your head against the wall waaaay before May.

Since Baby Evan is a true New England baby, we took advantage of today’s springlike above freezing weather to take him to the park. I was hoping that since he walks about 75% of the time around the house he’d really enjoy a new space to run. Instead, he threw himself on the ground as soon as he discovered the joy that is mulch. E and I spent the whole time trying to keep him from shoving handfuls of cedar bark and acorns in his mouth. I guess we can add “dirt” to the list of things he probably won’t be allergic too based on early childhood consumption. Already on the list: dog hair, cat hair, lint, yarn, dust, blood, plastic, wood and stickers. Still, I would call our first park adventure a success.

He wasn't quite sure about the swing at first (or maybe he was just COLD, like E kept saying. "Do you think he's cold? He looks cold. Aren't you cold?")

But he definitely warmed up to it (OH MY GOD DID YOU SEE THAT PUN? BAM!)

I don't know if you can even see the baby over my ridiculously yellow sweater. I bought it this morning in a frenzy of pastel colors and tank tops at Old Navy.

"I don't know what just happened, but LET'S DO IT AGAIN"

SLIIIIIDE! SLIDE SLIDE SLIDE SLIDE SLIDE! SLIDING is my FAVORITE!

WHEEEEEEEE!!! (And just in case you're thinking I'm some sort of neglectful mother who's so busy taking pictures she sends her 11 month old down the slide alone, don't worry. I'm sitting on the end and there is NO WAY he's gonna get around me. My butt could keep eight kids on that slide.)

Oh did I say slide was my favorite? I meant stick. STICK is definitely my favorite.

Yes (despite this very questionable caterpillar climby thing - now with more chipped lead paint!!!) I think we'll definitely be back for more park.