A Handful of Holidays

Hey, y'all -

Here's how we've celebrated some holidays this year:

On St Patrick's Day, we did that thing I do every year where I put together a party for Hagen's school and then immediately swear I'm never going to do it again. At least with THAT promise, it takes me about a year to break it, vs. "I'm never drinking again, " which tends to wear off in 7-10 business days.

Laney's friend Amya, the grumpy leprechaun

Laney-chosen nail color

For Easter, we had a bunch of friends over for an egg hunt in our yard. Since there were kids of all ages coming, each age group was assigned a color to collect. Hagen and his friends were yellow, Laney and her friends were pink, and then for the big kids, I did a scavenger egg hunt; each egg was filled with candy and a clue for where to find the next egg, like:

You’re doing great!

This hunt is a breeze

When you find Number 3

Try not to freeze.

(They had to take all the drinks out of the ice-filled cooler to find the egg at the bottom)

OR:

You found Number 6;

You’re an egg-hider’s dream.

Time to relax

and unwind in the steam.

(They had to open the hot tub and find the floating eggs)

For that last one, Thor had to step in and gently suggest to me that filling a plastic egg with chocolate and then closing it in a 104-degree hot tub might not be the best idea. Every time I think I'm the brains of this operation, it turns out I am not. 

On Mother's Day, your dad was away with the Navy, so I woke up in a bed full of young'uns. I put this picture on Instagram with the caption, "All I want for Mother's Day is some personal space," and some random person commented, "That's rude! You're the one who chose to have the children in the first place!" I looked up the profile of the commenter, because I was going to address her comment, and discovered she was probably 16. I considered writing, "If you think your mother has never hidden from you in the bathroom, you're wrong. Go check. She's probably in there now." But decided to let it go. The internet is a crazy enough place.

Hagen answered a questionnaire about me at school:

Thanks for leaving out that second digit of my age, buddy. For the record, I do not like to eat stew, I'm not all that jazzed about broccoli, and I hate to drink milk. So it's like he doesn't know me at all. But he makes up for it with the snuggling thing, 'cause that's totally true. 

Laney took this picture of me later on Mother's Day, which is what parenting feels like some of the time:

For Father's Day, we had a cookout with friends at our house. Peg Peg always asks me why I don't have pretty pictures of the kids at Easter. Here's why: all of the kids get to our house and immediately take off their clothes and jump in the hot tub. Then the girls put on dress-up clothes and do each other's hair and make-up. Then they beg to do their moms' make-up.

I don't have pretty pictures of anyone from our parties, because everyone looks like a hot mess the whole time they're here.

And I love it.

Love,

Mom