I wasn't even going to blog Easter this year or take many pictures, I don't know why, I guess because I still feel so behind (hello, kid birthdays and Christmas 2012, where are you?). But here I am. Snap happy as always.
Georgia was sick but tried to rally for egg dyeing.
I figured letting a one year old dye eggs could only end in disaster, but since it's hard to keep this little one out of his sister's activities I gave Waylon some dye and a paintbrush. He skipped that and went straight to heavily salting and eating. (See the jacket in the background? That's the weird thing about getting your home ready to sell - in many ways it becomes cleaner, but then again it becomes harder to take care of when you start taking down useful things like hooks.)
I would like to point out that that egg has not yet been peeled. He didn't so much as eat them as attempt to eat them and then reject them and make a giant mess of them.
On to Easter Sunday...
If only we had a recording of June's squeal upon discovering jelly beans in her basket! (BTW, like the layered pj ensemble she created?)
Aww, man. Other people have pictures of their children hunting eggs in a meadow or whatever, and you get to look at our toilet. : )
As he did on Christmas, Waylon managed to sleep through round 1 of the excitement, which was great from my perspective because it avoided me having to run so much candy interference. But here he is, having just woken up about 5 seconds earlier, the girls having burst into his room mid-hunt, and he is wondering what the hell is going on.
The Easter Bunny left Waylon some healthier fare, like those pureed squeezie pack thingies and some strawberries (which he is OBSESSED with - "RIZE! RIZE!"), but he worked his third child charm into some chocolate in short order.
Keeping with family tradition, E. Bunny brought the kids some new socks and underwear, which of course had to be immediately put on. Thus the increasing levels of nudity and drop off in pictures.
After a half-naked scavenger hunt culminating in birdhouses for all, we took on a massively messy painting project right before church. It really was a nice, relaxed morning I have to say.
You may have noticed that Georgia's skin does not look quite right in these photographs. Unfortunately her illness earlier in the week left her with a post-fever rash for a few days. By Sunday she was feeling 100% even though she didn't look it.
Interiors by Waylon Albert. Fine design for discerning hummingbirds since 2011.
Time to get dressed! The girls still fit into last year's dresses, but Waylon wore his first suit ever. Few men can pull off seersucker and a bow tie at all, let alone in Chicago in March, but he rocked it.
Hanging out, waiting for the service to start. (Yes, this would be the church. It meets in the Chopin Theater in Wicker Park.)
Little seersucker man meeting the bust of Mark Twain.
Okay, so here is where things got difficult. I tried to leave Waylon in the church childcare thinking he'd have no problem with it. Turns out he had a major problem with it. He was returned to us and took about 20 more minutes to get over it. Then, as I repeatedly got up and down from my seat with him, going in and out of the "sanctuary" (i.e., theater), he ate the equivalent of Thanksgiving dinner from the buffet set up outside. It's like he knew he had all the power in this situation. I kept trying to tell him, "No more now," thinking surely he'd actually reach satiation at some point, but then he'd talk or fuss or squirm again and I'd immediately give in with another sweet roll to make him be quiet.
The kicker was when he started pointing and yelling "Bread! Bread" well before it was time for communion. Yikes.
Anyway, here we are, stepping outside for some air, some city bus viewing, and some iphone self photography. Church with kids is always such a deeply spiritual experience for me. *Sigh*
I'm still glad we went, though.
So, all of that would explain why Waylon fell into a serious food coma during the short ride home and remained passed out on his changing table before we put him down for a crib snooze.
(My friend Frances says he looks like he just stumbled home from a killer party at Gatsby's.)
Back in action...
Child line up!
(Not sure what happened to the lining of June's dress???)
The annual impromptu, haphazard building egg hunt is ON!
Oh dear. This was our best attempt at a family portrait.
Last but not least, a few scenes from our super casual dinner with Tio James and Tia Frances and their sweet daughter Emilia.
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