Bubbles and Sidewalk Chalk

I was very behind on my Easter Bunny duties this year and found myself in Target (my home away from home) late last Wednesday night. The Easter aisles were completely picked over and desperation was starting to take over. Hmmmm, maybe J would really like the fairy princess headband and didn’t M say he wanted a pack of white t-shirts?

It was getting late and I needed to finish up and get home. I did a last lap around the store and came up with 2 things to complete the Easter baskets – sidewalk chalk (the 64-pack by Crayola because this Bunny was sparing no expense) and bubbles. Hopefully the boys would be distracted by all the candy and snacks and not be too disappointed with the chalk and bubbles.

Easter morning came and the baskets were hurriedly torn apart. There were candy wrappers, half eaten lollipops and plastic grass all over the living room. As the kids started to come down from their sugar high, they noticed the bubbles and chalk on the counter and asked if they could go play outside.

The weather was beautiful on Easter. The sun was out and bright and there was a nice breeze, it was a perfect spring day. The boys patiently waited for us to open the the bubbles and dig around the soapy bottles to find the wands. Before we knew it the yard was a sea of bubbles as the kids chased one another and laughed till their sides hurt. L alternated between spilling his bubbles and saying more bubbles? every 5 minutes.

Soon the twins broke open the chalk and before we knew it, the sidewalk was one endless, artistic masterpiece. The husband and I stared in amazement as all 4 boys, spread out on the chalk covered sidewalk, and not only shared the chalk,  but drew pictures without fighting! It brought me back to my childhood and playing hop scotch outside my grandparent’s house. I used a rock to draw my masterpieces, now the kids were using chalk in colors I never knew existed and loving every minute.

When it was time to come in for lunch they were literally covered in chalk from head to toe. Normally I would roll my eyes and complain about their messy clothes. However, not today. Watching them enjoy themselves and be truly happy was all that mattered. The clothes could be wiped off but nothing could wipe away their smiles.

Who knew something so small could make 4 kids so happy? I guess it is the little things that matter after all.

Who’s afraid of the big, bad Easter Bunny?

Spring is finally in the air. The temperatures are rising, the clocks have been sprung ahead and as anyone who has received a Pottery Barn, Pottery Barn Kids or Williams Sonoma catalog knows, Easter is right around the corner.

Displays of pastel eggs and bunnies and everywhere as stores showcase adorable Easter dresses (with matching purses and shoes) for girls and khackis and sweater vests for boys. Let’s not even talk about the candy that has taken over Target and CVS – candy always looks better when it is miniature and in a pastel wrapper.

Before the eggs are dyed and hidden and the baskets are stuffed there is one other tradition parents, especially of little kids, partake in the obligatory Easter Bunny photo. Only in America would you see parents dress their kids up in their “Sunday best” only to be dragged to the local mall where they will wait on a huge line to sit on the lap of a man, dressed in a 7-foot bunny costume, sitting under an arch of spring flowers and decorated eggs.

If you are thinking to yourself, Gee she sounds awefully bitter you would be correct. Let me explain, I do not have anything against the Easter Bunny, I think he (or she) is great. Anyone who leaves candy (chocolate AND jelly beans) is super in my book. However, it is not me with the problem it is my kids. You see, my children fear the Bunny.

They didn’t always have a fear of the Easter Bunny. For the twins’ first Easter I dressed them up and marched them down to the Princeton Marketfair and waited for our turn with the Bunny. They sat on his lap, albeit a bit stunned, and I left smiling with my 5×7 and 4 wallets. I looked pitifully at the parents whose kids were crying and refusing to go near the Bunny never thinking that would be me.

Wasn’t I in for a surprise the following December when the twins threw a HUGE fit would not go near Santa Claus. Thinking they were just having an off day, I tried again in the spring with the Bunny and was met with a similar outcome. Two more kids came and things got no better. I was persistent. Every December and March/April I would drag my brood to the Marketfair, wait on line and then be totally disappointed when they would adamantly refuse to pose with the Bunny and/or Santa. I would pout, throw a mild tantrum, call my mother and go home photo-less.

This really should not surprise me. I was not a fan of the Bunny or Santa. I am pretty sure there are more than a couple pictures of me screaming sitting on someone’s lap not looking happy. I just thought it would be different when it was time to take my own kids. After all, their father never cried.

The first couple times I cried (when I got in the car). When the kids got older, they would think I was a horrible mommy who didn’t care enough to take them to see the Bunny or Santa. Never would they remember the shrieks and tears, they would just see no pictures and think the worst.

Well by the time it was L’s turn to try Santa or the Bunny I had given up. I tried my best but there was no way around the fear my kids had of the gigantic bunny with an oversized plaster head. The kids will just have to take my word for it that they sobbed and refused to go under the floral arch. Instead they will have to make due with the 100s of photos of them, laughing and smiling while looking for Easter eggs or opening up their baskets. I am hoping they will not be too scarred but just in case I always have this as prood that I tried: