Scrolling through Instagram the past few weeks, I was noticing parents talking about Easter baskets and thought to myself “I’ve got to remember to do that!” Or these mom’s who found the most ADORABLE outfits for their kids and color coordinated outfits for themselves, and I thought
“What a great idea, I should do that!”
When in reality, I took the boys to Taget with me first thing Saturday, March 31st. I was about to sneak in a few things here and there, but let them pick out stuff like the coloring books they would prefer.
We bought donuts and chocolate milk to take to Papas house, serving as a distracting from all the new “colors” we just picked out.
Spending the morning at my Dads, I found Zions first ever Easter Basket, which is blue, and one my Grandma passed down to me; which is Red. It worked perfectly because those are the boys colors of everything else they pick out.
That evening I sat at our dining table and cut out stickers and filled 32 eggs. (I counted mostly because I didn’t want come across an egg next weekend..better make sure we get them all first time around.)
Sunday morning, bright and early at 7 am. I hear Zion slide down out of his bed. Peak in to see him gently waking up Apollo. We hadn’t talked about Easter, so he was waking him up to play.
I told them the Easter bunny had came and left them something. Zion, looked excited and gasped. Apollo on the other hand, looked genuinely concerned. Offering to go with them, I took them to the dining table and watched them both light up.
It. Was. Awesome.
I spend most of my time worrying about doing the wrong thing for them, or that it’s not good enough. (Something that was really bothering me as I put their baskets together the night before. That I hadn’t got them enough. Shaming myself for not getting it down sooner. Allowing more time and thought to go into it.)
But the fact of the matter is, they aren’t missing out on anything. There was a thousand stickers spread out all day long and they loved every second. I chose stickers thinking it was a better alternative to sweets and chocolate, when really a sugar-high child might have been easier and more likely to pass out. While we ended with fights over who gets the egg with 3 stickers in it.
Spending the night before being mad/disappointed in myself was a waste of time and energy. They boys haven’t experienced some extravagant Easter where someone dresses in a costume and hands them their baskets, while wearing these adorable impractical outfit that they’ll be grown out of by the next formal holiday.
After seeing them light up at just the few things in their basksets, I accepted that I did a good job and spent the rest of the day in my pajamas.
It was the best.