Easter – part one

Ok, so while my demon spawn are outside torturing the wildlife (oh and the neighbors, too) I want to take 2 minutes and start my Easter recap. You know it’s a holiday when there is too much to fit into one blog. I mean, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for someone peeing their pants in laughter AND there is only 20 minutes left on the timer until dinner is ready. Enjoy part one…..

6:15 am – DADDY! DADDY! DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA!!!!!! (accompanied by the pounding of tiny little fists on the wall) My first thought The Bean is awake…. second thought he is not calling for me so let Hubby fetch him. I paced my breathing so Hubby wouldn’t know I was awake and was in a total Zen of I am not moving when the Hubby fidgeted. SUCCESS IS MINE!! I win cause I’m still (fake) asleep.

6:30 am – The Bean is now singing at the top of his lungs throwing things out of the crib. I haven’t moved a muscle. Hubby is faking sleep, how dare he?? No, it doesn’t matter that I am doing the same thing because well, I don’t really have a good reason – but that’s not the point. I will not cave in and silently wish I knew how to fart on command. I bet that would get him out of bed.

6:40 am – I kick hubby and mumble get the baby. He tries to be cute and says, no you. I don’t think so. I kick again harder; he is calling for you so you need to get him. I know this was a bad excuse to use since normally The Bean is calling for me, but it was early and I wasn’t thinking coherently. I am aware that this line will be come back to bite me in the ass some morning in the probably-near future.

Hubby gets The Bean, settles him down with some Mickey Mouse Clubhouse in between us. All is blissful and I am catching a few extra minutes when…

THAT’S MY EASTER BASKET!!! MINE! MINE! MOM, HE IS TAKING MY CANDY!! Hello, 7:30. People in China are now calling me telling me that my children are fighting over candy and I should probably handle this. I wonder if there is a surgery to install volume control on kids. What about a mute button? I vow to put my tummy tuck research on hold and devote more time to researching these elective surgical options for my children.

Alright, the dragon is up. And it is Sunday, and I love Easter service. But, first some well-placed threats. I calmly tell the mob to get ready for church – nice pants, collared shirts, belts, brush your teeth and comb your hair. Also if you screw with me this morning I will stick my pretty white heels so far up your butt we will have to go to the hospital so they can cut open your back to remove my shoe. AND THEN I will beat you with my shoe for ruining it. Clear? You could have heard a pin drop.

However, my threat worked to well and we were ready to leave in less than an hour. The Bean is pissed because he wants all the Easter baskets and I am beginning to wonder if my ears are bleeding from the 20 minute long tantrum. My choices – 1) get to church early or 2) listen to a tantrum for another 30 minutes. No question there, we are going to church early.

We make it to church and all is settled. The mob was enjoying donuts and I was having 30 seconds of adult conversation. I was on the verge of a whole minute when The Bean gets The Look. The Look is a joyful, evil, I-am-about-to screw-with-mom type look. He smiles sweetly and takes off running. We go a large church and I am wearing a stupid dress and even stupider heels, which does not go well with having to sprint after my toddler who is leaving fire in his tracks.

One of the other moms tries to deter him and the two of us are trying to corner this toddler. Picture a football field, The Bean stolen the cookie and is trying to make it to the safety zone. Blocking his path in the front is Mrs. J looking so pretty but also well-trained on toddler herding (I think our kids conspire sometimes in class although I am sure mine is the bad influence). Coming up behind him is me and I am desperately trying not to fall on my face and provide an inappropriate peep show. Mrs. J darts to the right, The Bean darts left, Mrs. J darts left, The Bean dives right and sprints around a sign. I am closing in and he runs around a pole with me in hot pursuit. He is almost within my grasp when he dives between some gentleman’s legs. I make a quick maneuver to the left and catch him by the scruff of his neck when he gets slightly deterred by gawking at some little toddler & tiaras type princess in pink. (Where do people find those big poufy dresses? I mean, wow!)

I give him a firm scolding and trying to catch my breath and look like I am in control take his tiny little hand to lead the way back to the table we were sitting at. Just as I was feeling like I had the upper-hand my scoundrel of a son takes off again!! I was quicker this time and only tripped once and caught him within seconds before he could go out the front door. Screw being a good mom. I swatted his bottom and scooped him up like a sack of potatoes.

I stared straight ahead as I re-joined my family. Bless my parents, they were trying so hard not to laugh at me because deep down I think they were afraid I would go all mommy-dearest on them, too. I blame the dress and heels, had I been in normal clothing The Bean would have never gotten away but alas I tried to be all feminine ONE day and this happens. Next year I am wearing pants.

Can you believe it was only 9:15 am?

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