Ali got to have her first experience with dying Easter Eggs on Saturday, where she learned that it’s NOT such a great idea to suck on the spoon that stirred the dyes: And us parents learned that three year olds that are just starting to grasp the concept of the word “die” are very confused by the concept of dying eggs.
Even Tessa joined the fun, but I sadly managed to teach her nothing new.
(I thought maybe our next learning project could be to turn her into a professional Faberge Egg designer, but she was really more interested in chewing on Ali’s blocks. Maybe next Easter.)
Of course, long after all of the children lost interest in the process, the Daddies were still perfecting their masterpieces:
I think we managed to scrub all of the dye off of Ali (and Chris) before Church.
We couldn’t manage to bring ourselves to tell her that the Easter Bunny brought it (As if Santa didn’t feel weird enough selling – there’s something just super bizarre about convincing your child that a giant bunny with the ability to put candy into plastic eggs broke into her house to deliver her a basket full of sweets that are hopefully not infested with Bunny Mites.)
Anyway, so we just didn’t address the origin of her basket at all. But after being asked a dozen times by different people if the Easter Bunny brought her a basket, I’m sure she’s good and confused about everything.
Because that’s how we like to parent.
After letting her appropriately over-sugar herself before Church, we managed to get a couple partial-family-because-no-one-else-was-there-to-photograph-us-pictures:
And, since we know how hard it is to photograph our family, I offered to help our good friends Greg and Julie photograph their (slightly) bigger family after Church. First I had to ask Ali get out of the way and wait for Greg to summon all his children:
Kids needed to be drug into place, except Benjamin, who was practicing his charming smile…
Everyone finally gathered, and as soon as everyone looked and smiled at the same time in an Easter Miracle, the baby, Tori, let out an ear-piercing scream:
Apparently she’s not a fan of quiet. And that’s a very good thing.
But Ali wasn’t getting impatient waiting on me. She was way too busy posing for everyone who would look her way while waiting for them to tell her how beautiful she was. I think she liked her dress, smock or no smock.