Happy Easter!

Happy Easter to all who are celebrating (and for those who aren't, just enjoy the pictures).

I have a babysitting co-op in my neighborhood that rocks. We help each other out on a regular basis - for example both this coming and this past Wednesday when I need someone to get Little Miss off her bus. With over twenty women together, we can always find someone who is available to watch our children in exchange for hours.

It's more than just the babysitting though. Our monthly meetings are a great social outlet and a wonderful source of information about upcoming events, the schools, and more. We have periodic ladies nights to just get away. And we do holiday events, including an Easter Egg hunt that has become quite the tradition.

It starts off with an Easter Egg hunt, which they kindly hold off on starting until the four of us who attend the Catholic school that gets out later can make it to the designated house. Each of us provides stuffed eggs, and the kids are separated by age to go in search of their requisite number of eggs.

Note that I have no pictures of this. Although I recharged my camera before the event and put the battery back in, I apparently neglected to put the camera actually into my purse. Nice babysitting people lent me their camera, however.

We also have a visit from the Easter Bunny, who comes to visit all the children and is available for pictures. Usually the Easter Bunny is fairly stationary and put in a picturesque area, but this year he was mobile.

This may also be the last year we have the Easter Bunny. As disappointing as it was, I witnessed several of the older (and I'm talking early middle school age) children harrassing the bunny - pulling on his gloves, yanking his watch chain, pulling on his pockets trying to rip them off his jacket, lifting up his waist, and the like. I chastised them, and they looked suitably ashamed for being disrespectful to the bunny, but I caught them (and others) at it later, and I know other moms did, too. It's a shame.

This isn't all, however. After the Easter Egg hunt is over, there are cookies to decorate. Dozens and dozens of cookies are made, frosting and sugars and decorations are provided, and the kids get to go to town making and eating their creations. You'll notice no pictures of Little Miss here, as she was being Miss Crabby McCrabbypants and not listening and was taken home by my husband after the Easter Egg hunt portion.

The host for the past two years has added yet another bit of entertainment. She prints out all sorts of Easter coloring pages, and the children are then invited to color them for a contest. This isn't your typical contest, however, where the one artistic child wins every single year. Instead, all the pictures are hung up for their due admiration while the kids go run and play for awhile. Eventually, they are taken down, shuffled, and three random winners are drawn.

Mister Man didn't win, and he was disappointed, but he was thrilled that he was able to help other kids find eggs after he'd found his dozen. In fact, as he was helping one boy find thirteen of his eighteen eggs, one of the eggs he found for that boy had a special "E" label inside that meant the boy received a special prize. Mister Man couldn't have been prouder that he helped than if he'd won himself.

And really? Isn't that what Easter is all about? Helping others, sharing and celebrating as a community, and recognizing that we're all in this together trying to make the world a better place?

Happy Easter!

Easter Party Recap

For all of you who have been waiting to hear how the Easter egg hunt went – with bated breath, I assume – I finally have the update. My apologies for the delay. We went to spend Easter with the in-laws (lots ‘o stories to come yet on this trip, trust me), and I didn’t have access to a computer from Thursday until tonight.

So without further ado:

Yep, I really had 36 kids in my house. At one time. With their moms. Voluntarily. With the idea that they were going to hunt eggs. And silly me, I decided to add more to the festivities because hunting eggs would be done so quickly.

Apparently, my logical mind failed me when I set this up. Every year, my babysitting co-op does an Easter egg hunt. Last year was the first year I was in the co-op, so it’s my only comparison. It was supposed to be at one of the social chair’s houses, but it snowed last Easter. She didn’t want to do it inside (wimp!) so called the park district in a panic and they let us use their gym.

When I went, there were 20 kids or so, and it didn’t seem that bad. They all brought their own baskets, they hunted for eggs their parents had dropped off with no squabbles over some kids getting too many eggs and others not getting any. We then had the Easter Bunny come, and kids got their pictures taken and got a basket of cr@p from him, and they went home after around an hour.

The only issue was that this cost $12 per kid, and this year it was going to be at least $13 or $14. I only have two kids, and I objected to that. Since I’m one of the social chairs this year, I get a little sway. We decided to skip the bunny and just do it at my house. And since we weren’t getting the basket from the bunny, I decided to have the kids decorate cookies (hey, if I did it for Mister Man’s third birthday party, I can certainly do it for older kids!) and we’d order pizza since the hunt wasn’t going to start until 4:30.

Brilliant! Lots of fun! And I could put it on for only $3 (anyone else love the $5.99 huge pizzas from Dominick’s?).

What I didn’t count on was everyone else thinking it was brilliant. And cheap. Needless to say, 36 kids signed up. Literally, three families didn’t participate, all because of other conflicts. Whoops.

And of course, someone found the bunny costume for $75 that the co-op decided to buy for use every year (cheaper than the $95 one company wanted for a rental of a near-identical costume). Dear hubby agreed to wear it and be the bunny for us, so everything was going to be perfect! No, I didn’t say that with a straight face.

Since I was still feeling a little off from the flu earlier in the week and hadn’t yet baked the cookies, I decided to take Wednesday off work. Good idea, me! That meant I was able to get the house straightened up, make all the cookies, restraighten the house, and call the moms who had yet to drop off their eggs to remind them that I needed the eggs the previous Saturday – although I was far nicer in my reminders.

Somehow, I still ended up hiding the eggs as people were arriving, but since no one can be on time, it worked out fine. Some of the moms helped me, while I did two areas – one upstairs for the truly little kids and downstairs for the kids 4 and up. Gotta love the moms who help.

When I realized I needed a stronger voice than mine to get the instructions across to such a large mass of people, two moms volunteered. One gave instructions, and the other was the gatekeeper to the basement so I didn’t have any lawsuits from kids falling down the stairs and being stampeded by the mass behind them. As expected the egg hunt lasted all of 2.4 seconds. I’m amazed by how quickly kids can pick up eggs hidden everywhere but yet pick up toys at the speed of molasses that are in plain sight on the floor. Kid magic, I suppose.

The bunny arrived right on time, and the wee ones flew to the bunny to give him hugs. Seeing the bunny in person, I realized the costume was a bit creepy looking, but my kids loved him at least. Most of the others did, too, and there was quite the conga line to sit on the bunny’s lap. A few kids had the good sense to not want to go near the creepy bunny, and they stayed away. Mister Man, on the other hand, kept getting candy from his now filled bucket and trying to share it with the Easter Bunny who had no pockets. Too cute, but he was so disappointed when he found the Easter Bunny had dropped some on the his way out.

After the bunny came the cookie decorating. I somehow managed to make enough eggs and bunnies for each kid to decorate 3, plus extras for breakage and other issues. I’m still not sure how that happened, since I started off with the goal of one. Fortunately, everyone enjoyed making them and several enjoyed eating them, too. Mister Man didn’t want to make his around everyone else for whatever reason though, and his was decorated after everyone left and he realized he’d missed out on something.

Then the wait for the pizzas started. I had ordered them to be ready at 5 and sent my dad to pick them up – Dominick’s is 3 minutes away – at 4:55. Cookies were all decorated, and the kids had started to tear into the toys and do the usual destruction of the house that occurs when children walk through the door. No pizza. I started to hear questions from the moms. No pizza. Finally, I called my dad to see what was up. Apparently Dominck’s had messed up and had to remake pizzas so he was waiting but would be home shortly.


Five minutes later, he arrived home with nine pizzas. I found out that the problem had been that Dominick’s had burned one pizza, which they gave us anyway. Trust me, I would never have guessed which one it was had I not known one was supposed to be burnt. If it had been me, I would have just left with the other pizzas and gone back later if we still needed the last one, but my dad is too good a guy.

You’d think that 9 pizzas, 36 kids and 14 adults would be a pretty good ratio. Suprisingly, it wasn’t. We had almost 4 pizzas leftover. I tried sending them home with anyone I could, and we gave one to a next door neighbor, but we still had over a whole pizza left at the end. Better too many than too few though!

And the best part – by 7:30, the house was back to normal. Even my husband said it wasn’t too bad to clean up. Little does he know I’ve already been volunteered to host this again next year…. Now, if I can just track down the last two parents who haven’t yet paid for the party….

Happy Easter!

I Broke A Cardinal Mommy Rule...

Yes, I survived the Easter egg hunt and party at my house … with 36 kids (one added just today). However, I’m too exhausted to post about that, so you’ll have to be patient. I do have a couple of pics to share from it though!

What’s the one thing a mom isn’t allowed to do?

If you answered “get sick” then you have children. Yep, that’s the answer of course.

So what happens to me on Monday afternoon? I feel the flu creeping up. My body aches, I can feel the fever coming on, and all of a sudden, I feel yucky (as Little Miss puts it). I decide to make chicken noodle soup for dinner (chicken and noodles only for the wee ones, veggies for me and hubby) and start ingesting oranges as quickly as I can.

Hubby decided to do something nice for me on Monday, and he came home in time to put the kids to bed (not the way I would have put them to bed, but can I really complain when I’m lying on the couch?) and he brought me some medicine to knock me out.

Has anyone ever had Zicam? The outside of the box states that it’s virtually tasteless and suggests adding it to any liquid. Sounds good to me, although I was fine with the taste of the old Theraflu.

Silly me, I suggest adding it to the hot cocoa I was making before I went to bed early. Mmmm warm milk with good cocoa powder. I even used my special tiramisu flavor that Santa put in my stocking this year. Hubby added the medicine and brought it upstairs for me, while I lay shivering in bed.

I took a sip. Ewwww. Virtually tasteless? Apparently the marketing person who wrote that claim had all their tastebuds scraped off before sampling the medicine. Honestly, it isn’t a bad taste for medicine, but there is a taste. And the taste doesn’t really go with milk. But I braved it and gulped it down. What a waste of good cocoa. Fortunately, when you’re sick, you don’t dwell on such sadnesses.

Yesterday I woke up feeling slightly better but still pretty rotten. I got the kids off to school and sat on the couch until it was time to go pick up Little Miss. By dinnertime, I was done and couldn’t even deal with the smell of turkey bacon that Daddy cooked in the microwave for them.

This time, I decided to just take the Zicam straight. Why, you might ask? Well that’s simple. I have a bottle that holds 23 ounces of water and I had just filled it. I knew I wouldn’t drink all the water before falling asleep, and I didn’t have enough energy to go get a new cup and fill it just a little.

First I stuck my tongue into it, thinking I’d just sort of slurp it up. It’s thick and gooey, kind of like honey but more solidified. That started to induce a gag reflex, so I reassessed. I tried scooping it into my mouth like I would if it were a spoonful of anything else. Yep, texture wasn’t working, although I got some down. I then turned it sideways to let some drip off in the hopes of it dripping straight down my throat. That sort of worked. It didn’t go straight down my throat, but it seemed to be the best way to do it, followed of course, by a giant swig of water! Five minutes later, I finally finished my dose of medicine – including finally giving in and licking the last of it off the spoon, and I was ready for bed, sure that I would be healthy today for my egg hunt!

I woke up this morning and felt ok. But something felt odd, and I couldn’t figure out what it was. I got ready and went to go wake up the wee ones, still puzzling over what it might be. As I went in to get Little Miss to change her diaper, I finally figured out what it was. I had no voice. Just a tiny whisper.

Have any of you tried to parent two boisterous children with only a whisper for a voice? I sat them near me and explained my issue and asked them to be extra good because Mommy could only whisper.

Mister Man: Why can you only whisper?

Me: Well, when I was sick, the sickness went to my throat and took my voice.

Mister Man: But what does your voice sound like when it’s gone?

Me: Li-crack-kuh-wheeze the-crack-iss-crack

Mister Man: peals of laughter

Me: Nice (whispering again). Why are you laughing?

Mister Man: Do it again! Do it again!

Me: Doo-crack-ooo whu-wheeze-tuh?

Mister Man: (peals of laughter) Again! Again!

Me: It hurts, Sweetie (whispering, of course). Can you be extra good today so I can whisper and you can hear me?

Both of them: Yes, Mommy (and very solemnly, too)

That lasted all over about 30 seconds before the usual whining over not me not choosing the right socks for Little Miss and Mister Man not being able to get his (too small now) pj top off. Wheee, today was fun! The only good news is that it’s Wednesday, which means it’s a daycare day, as I work on Wednesdays, so I only had to get through breakfast and them off to school and daycare before I could give my voice a rest.

Now, pictures 36 children entering my home, all wanting to know when they could start hunting for the eggs. And me with still a not good voice (slightly stronger thanks to some hot tea I’d drunk). And rules to get across: 12 eggs per kid; if a door is closed, there are no eggs hidden there; and big kids go downstairs first while little kids hunt upstairs, then little kids head downstairs to finish off. Thank God for sympathetic moms with loud voices!

And now? I’m exhausted, but my voice is slowly returning, so tomorrow can return (I’m hoping!) to the usual chaos, with me managing more than a whisper. But tonight? I’m having some more cocoa in a bit… and I’m not ruining it with the taste of Zicam. That definitely gets stirred into a cup of water tonight!

It Never Crossed My Mind

I'm certifiably insane, for those of you who haven't picked up on that yet. I also have a problem with the word "no."

My babysitting co-op has an Easter Egg hunt every year, which in the past has involved hunting for one dozen eggs per child and having the Easter Bunny come to give each child a basket of cr#p. Last year, it was supposed to be at the social chair's house, but since it was snowing that day, we moved it to the park district.

This year, I'm a social co-chair, and I knew that Easter was even earlier this year than last, so I didn't even pretend it might be held outside, and renting the park district's facilities was going to be too expensive. I volunteered the inside of my house, which is fine. Every year, we have big birthday parties for the kids, so it isn't a big deal to do this, right?

However, at a meeting, some of the parents objected to the cost, especially those who had multiple children, as it was going to cost around $15 per child because of the cost of bringing in the bunny and basket. We decided to go a different route and instead decorate cookies after the Easter egg hunt, as well as ordering some pizza to keep the kids under control. That ended up coming down to $3 per child, which was far more reasonable to the parents.

So, with the event being fun and reasonable in cost, what do you think happens? Of course, just about every mom signs up. I now have 35 kids coming to my house (two more added this morning). Oops.

Next, one of the moms finds an Easter Bunny costume at Party City for $75, which was less than what it was going to cost us to rent it for one day. Needless to say, I was at Party City on Sunday to buy the costume for years of future use.

The next trick was to find someone to wear it. When we had talked about renting a costume, one of the women had thought her next door neighbor would be willing to be the Easter Bunny for us, as we need moms to supervise and dads wouldn't be home from work yet. Unfortunately, he isn't able to. I leaned on my dad, as my parents were going to come help with the Easter egg hunt anyway. He wasn't enthusiastic, but I talked him into it.

Then I saw a post last night (www.mom2my6pack.blogspot.com) where pretty much every mom finds the Easter Bunny to be creepy. My kids love the Easter Bunny, and most of the kids in the co-op do, too, so it didn't concern me until I saw the reactions from some of the moms there.

This morning, I called my parents to confirm that my dad was still game (think about it...). Nope, he's now out. Knowing that my dad isn't the most social person, I was guessing that he didn't want to be center of attention. My logic was the he didn't have to say anything since the Easter Bunny doesn't speak and that he'd be covered up in the costume.

I was completely wrong as to why he didn't want to do it. He's afraid of what the moms and others will think. As in, "what kind of creepy old man dresses up as the Easter Bunny and has little girls on his lap?" The thought never dawned on me. Never even crossed my mind. It's really sad to me that the world is coming to this now, and it shows me how sheltered my life really is. Needless to say, I respect his decision, and the search is on to find another bunny.

Lucky for me, my husband is a school teacher. He can be home by 4:45 on Wednesday, so phew! However, given that the kids will all be in the house decorating cookies and looking for eggs, he somehow has to enter the house as the Bunny. We made jokes about how Santa comes down the chimmney and the Easter Bunny comes up the toilet (and out of the bathroom), but I finally decided -- after the tears of laughter stopped streaming down my face -- that the other parents wouldn't appreciate that urban legend being introduced to their kids.

The new solution is that my husband will change into the costume at school. That means that he has to walk out of the school with the head off, since driving with the head on is probably illegal, not to mention dangerous. I can't wait to hear about the reaction of people who see him in the costume. Fortunately, he's a good sport, so he'll do it for me. And the Easter Bunny will ring the doorbell, to the delight of all the children. All the children. All 35 of them.

And right now? I'm making chicken noodle soup because I'm afraid I'm coming down with the flu. The sugar cookie dough I made last night is not being baked tonight, of course. Here's hoping I feel better tomorrow after loading my body with as many get well ingredients as I can!