(Sesame Street ABC Coloring Book and First Words Flash Cards, Matchbox Cars, Stickers, Mr. Potato Head, Stuffed Lamb)
Kids, I have a confession. Last Easter, I did not give Colin an Easter basket. Yup, that’s correct. In his first year of life on this Earth, I didn’t buy him a St. Patrick’s day outfit and I didn’t give him an Easter basket. I did however buy him some overprice wool felted bunny ears from Stonewall Kitchen. But those were more for my amusement than his. I still make him don those occasionally for my entertainment and ask him to hop around the house. Oddly enough, he refuses.
But let’s hold off on the stoning until after this post, okay?
But seriously, I didn’t think 7 month olds needed Easter Baskets. I mean, really, what are you supposed to put in them? A jar of Gerber sweet potatoes and some formula? Baby Orajel? I didn’t understand that for small children, you can give them little gifts. Luckily, my mother in law was born with that “sensitivity chip”, as Janiston would say. Me? Unless there’s a SOLID milk chocolate bunny, don’t call me. I’ll call you. Know what I mean?
This year? I’m coming correct. I’m getting with the program. The whole, “Easter Baskets are a requirement of any good (Easter celebrating) parent. BUT DON’T YOU DARE FILL THEM WITH SUGAR, YOU HEATHEN!” program, that is. Did you know you shouldn’t give toddlers copious amounts of sugar? And not just because you want them to sleep sometime in the next 24 hours? But because it’s supposedly bad for them. And their teeth. I read that on some blog so it must be true. Or maybe the pediatrician told me. I can’t remember. I’m blocking out that hour of my life.
Which then of course has me again begging the question I asked myself last year: “WHAT’S THE POINT THEN?” But I guess the point is to pretend that a large anthropomorphized rabbit comes and visits children and bestows upon them gifts of the non-sugar variety, until that is, they reach a certain age when that just won’t fly anymore. Say it with me, kids: WHITE CHOCOLATE IS NOT CHOCOLATE!
Sidenote: One year, I told my mom I loved white chocolate. Which was a lie. I had never tasted white chocolate, but of course, a white chocolate bunny is just prettier than a stupid brown one. And so the joke was on me when Easter morning I bit into my (cough, NOT SOLID, cough) white chocolate bunny only to discover white chocolate is the devil’s idea of a sick prank. Whoever invented white chocolate is on my ever expanding “list.” Additionally, every now and then my mom still thinks I like white chocolate. I brought it upon myself, really.
Anyway where were we? Oh yeah. So this year, I’m getting into the spirit of things. I’ve got Colin’s Easter Basket (from Grammie, last year), I got some of the good paper shredded grass crap, and a whole slew of the non-dollar junk from the dollar store. Hell, I even bought some empty plastic eggs to fill up with raisins and goldfish crackers and stickers so we can hunt them. Yes, let’s hunt eggs, people. It’s happening.
One last thing: We can agree that dying eggs at this venture would be pointless, right? I mean, I like egg salad as much as the next girl but…… really? Do we have to?
PS- This is an Easter idea I could get behind. But I’m a sucker for glow in the dark necklaces.