Eggs from the City, NOT a bunny

Have I mentioned that we don't do the Easter Bunny around here? You would think that I, the tradition guru, would have worked the weird bunny in somehow. But sorry folks...too creepy. My kids don't even know that the Easter Bunny is supposed to bring baskets and eggs. Mainly because we don't do baskets, and they know Mom hides the eggs.

But we can totally get on board a city egg hunt that involves free donuts and juice afterward.

Tyler and I split kids as usual. He took the older ones and I stayed with the younger two. I would like this evidence here to let it stand that Daisy was happy at least when we arrived at the park.

Then, when it came to the horn blowing and kids converging, she got a bit worried and asked me to pick her up. I said, "No" because I was shepherding Pearl out to a less congested spot, and Daisy took that as her sign to go into stubborn mode. She looked like this for almost the whole hunt.

I tried to coax her. I told her it was okay and she could pick up whatever she wanted. She wouldn't budge. A good parent might have put a few things in her bucket for her, but I have learned my lesson at these places. The rule is only kids touch the candy. Period. Parents who pick up stuff are booed and shunned. So, I let her sulk and I took pictures of Pearl.

Pearl actually looked quite apprehensive before the buzzer.

But she knew just what to do. (This might come from her secret stealing of candy throughout any normal day. She is an old hat at getting the good stuff.) She had a good time raking in the sweets.

After most of the stuff was picked up, I finally got to Daisy to take a slight interest. She walked around and half-heartedly put some stuff in her bucket. I showed her where a couple pieces were, but usually Pearl got there first. When I looked in her bucket later, I was surprised because she had only picked up the pink pixie sticks. There were green, yellow, and orange as well, but she only had eyes for the pink. Cute silly goose.

And it was very sweet, because as each of the older sisters noticed the lack of candy in Daisy's bucket, they each offered to share. It is moments like that that make a mother proud. And then we ate donuts which cheered Daisy up.

Actually, everyone seems to like a donut.

Except Pearl, who only wanted the candy in her bucket.

We went home to get out of the chill. Here are my egg hunters post hunt.

My favorite is Pearl here. Doesn't she have this look that says something like, 'Why did you drag me out there to collect all those goodies and then take them away and make me pose for a picture? What are you thinking?'

But don't worry, there was plenty of booty to be had. And from the looks of the way things were spread out and knowing how fast Pearl's fingers are, I would say, she has a good day and plenty of sugar.

I'm Broken

It must have something to do with Spring Break. (Ha ha. I make myself laugh all the time.) Yes, I have plenty to blog about, but we have been out of town and unfortunately, my computer did not come with me. Or my husband for that matter. All will be told in time.

Just wanted to let you know that I am still kickin' about. Hope you had a good week.

Cracking Off Family Style

Woot! I love me a Crack-Off, and I am tickled that I get to do it twice a year now. (This is me giving myself a pat on the back for having enough children to put in a bracket. I knew they would be good for something someday.)

The decorating was fun and I like to see the girls develop their creativity. (I am terribly crushed that my parents couldn't come out. They always make the best eggs.) But here are all our eggs this time through. They are pictured in descending age order. (i.e. Dad, Mom, June, etc. in case that wasn't so clear)

I was the big winner this year. 

My bikini took down everyone. Multiple times. We eventually renamed it, 'The Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Indestructible Bikini.' Seriously, it NEVER cracked. June would bring cracked eggs and pit them against the bikini over and over, but the end result was always the same.

Everyone had a good time regardless. Daisy was still a little confused. She cheered whether she won or not and she was never quite sure if it was a good thing to have the egg cracked. I'm thinking next year she will get it all figured out.

Robyn for sure knew that she didn't want her eggs cracked. She was very protective and strongly disliked the bikini. She even accused me at one point of leaving my egg out longer than the rest to let it harden. (I'm not sure where that logic comes from, but for the record, they all sat on the counter for the same amount of time after we made them Monday night.)

June was such a good sport. Besides trying heartily to take the bikini out, to no avail, she seemed to enjoy herself. She asked me to take this picture and put the caption on it.

And how can I argue when she clearly has a sense of humor? (Get it? It's all cracked? Ha ha.)

Ivory was a little too eager out of the gates. Her first attempt at rolling resulted in her catapulting her egg onto the floor. Thus she became very protective of her last egg. We finally talked her into rolling it against the bikini and she took the crack well. But she wanted to keep it. FOREVER. I told her this picture would have to do. It wouldn't rot over time.

That leaves Pearl. She came. She rolled. She had no clue.

You can tell Tyler took this picture because I don't think I would ever use laundry as a back drop, even if it was blurry. Which reminds me...I should go do laundry.

Thanks for coming to our Crack Off. Neighborhood festivities yet to come. (Although I wasn't so great about posting them last year. I'll try to do better.)

p.s. Tyler was there. He had to run to Scouts this evening, so I missed getting a shot of him. But don't worry, he is as handsome as ever. 

Finding the Beauty

When I take pictures, I feel I see something more than what is normally there. I am amazed at how souls seem to shine through. I tell people that they look great and I am not lying. They do look fabulous to me. Every time, I am awed by the uniqueness of an individual, and the personal, candid, natural, beauty they have.

Except...when it comes to me. 

I kinda strongly dislike pictures of myself. But I like pictures that I take, so I keep thinking that I should be able to take pictures of myself that I like; that I will suddenly see what I see in everyone else I shoot.

There will be days that I think I look pretty good. And I will think, 'This is it. This is the day that I will take a picture of myself and it will be fantastic.'

But it is still me. And I still don't particularly like it.

Sometimes I think it must have something to do with how I always see myself backwards. In a mirror, you see just that...a mirror image. You don't see what other people see, or what the camera sees. So, perhaps I am surprised by a symmetry that I am not used to.

Perhaps I really am my own worst critic. In general I have fairly high self-esteem. On a scale of 1-10, I am an 8—in looks. In humor and brains and other things, I am probably closer to 9.5. I am pretty awesome. But why can't I capture that?

My body is getting older too. The wrinkles don't bother me too much. I like to think my smile lines are there because I laugh so much. The white hairs are less desirable, but they could be fixed. There is no cure for the chronic dark circles under my eyes, but shouldn't I be proud to bear the mark of a mother or anyone who puts something else before sleep? And yet, often when I look in the mirror, I don't connect with the person there anymore.

I still like myself mind you. I just don't like pictures of myself. There will be the rare occasion where I find a picture that makes me smile. All these ones scattered in here are passable, but then again, I was able to use Photoshop and not display the really awful ones. (Trust me, there were plenty.)

I don't mean to sound vain. There is obviously nothing wrong with my face, body, or hair. There have been people who have suffered accidents or illnesses and have been physically scarred for life. I do not mean to make light of their sensitivities and their search to find themselves in a new face or body.

I just wish that sometimes people could see me through MY eyes. That will never be possible. At least, not here and now. I believe Heavenly Father can see me the way I see myself. And I believe that the Savior can feel the things I feel. Perhaps, the idea that we will be our own judges in heaven is not too far off. There can be others who stand and assess whether we did right or wrong, but what if it was right in our own eyes? What if we were trying our best with what we had to work with? Is that what it means when the Savior says that man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart?  (1 Samuel 16:7)

If that is the case, we will once again be our own worst critic. We will know when we have not lived up to what we could have done. We will know what our true motives were.

But I should do okay for that test. I love my spirit. My soul feels brighter than the clay tabernacle that houses it.

I'm sure if I could take a picture of what is on the inside...I would be beautiful.

My Favorite Sunday of the Year

I adore General Conference Sunday. We have friends over for breakfast, we listen to inspired words from the leaders in our church, and I crosstitch. Could it get any better? Eight hours has never seemed so short. When I was a kid, the time just dragged and between meetings on Saturday and Sunday, I thought it would never end. Now, I am sad to hear the closing song and know that I have to wait six more months to do it all again. Although, I can re-experience the talks almost instantly, so that is fabu.

This year, I had two extra stitchers.

They are doing very well, and even if they only get their stuff out every six months, I will take the company when I can get it. Ivory begged and pleaded and I finally let her join in on the last session. Consequently, I didn't get much done, but that isn't really the point. Crosstitching has become more of a marathon event for me. I'm thinking that I haven't really picked my own project up since last October. That is okay. Seasons....seasons.

On a whim, Robyn and I put together a lighted room for the kids afterward.

The big box is from the new dishwasher. (Yes, we finally caved. I had taken over the bulk of dishwashing, which wasn't bad, but I will be the first to admit that I was never on top of them. There was always half a sink full and I was always remembering too late that we needed more spoons for cereal. So yeah for modern-day appliances. Once again—how in the world did the pioneer women do it?) The kids really dug it. They played in it all afternoon, until some of the lights short-circuited. They were pretty old lights we found in the garage.


So, tomorrow Monday will bring all the things I put aside to just relax and enjoy my favorite Sunday of the Year. That sounds less fun.

Chalae's Chalet

I have been putting off this post for too long, mainly because I didn't want to bother with all the pictures and believe me...there are plenty. BUT, the kids often ask for their work to be displayed on the blog and who am I to argue since this corner of cyberspace is really mostly about them anyway. So today, you get a lot of blocks. A LOT. I am always happy when they get the blocks out because I like to see their creativity in action. I remember building with the same blocks when I was a kid. My sister and I would always build mazes for our Barbies to get trapped in. Miranda came up with the most ingenious booby traps. I was jealous that my mind never worked as fast as hers. (Probably still doesn't.) Blocks are great.

This all started back one day when Robyn built a house and called it her Chalet (French for cabin). Tyler had told her to name it that since Robyn's middle name is Chalae (same pronunciation, which for you non-French speakers is 'Shuh-lay'). She was proud of her creation and asked for a picture.

Here is the close-up.

Then the girls (June and Robyn) built a castle. Behold.

Very cool, I think.

Then they got the blocks out again another day and since we have some letter blocks June took it upon herself to form everyone's name. Some were harder than others.

Robyn was busy building more structures. In fact, here is a whole town. (Although I think June helped as well.)

This Robyn creation is pretty complex. I feel badly that I can't remember hardly anything about it except there is an elevator there in the back. But trust me, she could give you the detailed specs.

I like her couch here.

And then she built one large enough to use.

Seen enough blocks? Yeah, me too.

So we will leave you with this cute picture. Pearl was amusing herself while sisters built away. I followed her as she was making a loop. She would walk the curb down to the next driveway, then come back and start again. It just reminds me how big she is getting.