The Easter Bunny almost didn't make it to our house.
I had a long Saturday afternoon with a boy who refused to eat any meal placed in front of him that wasn't a bag of Star Wars fruit snacks. I ate my food and his, cold and an hour old, all day.
I'm sure every parent has gone through the "I can't get him to eat" panic phase with a toddler, but my kids are vegetarians and our late pediatrician once pegged us with the name "the lollipop guild" based on our scrawny measurements and giant heads. I am always shoving food in their faces to get nutrition in wherever possible, so when my kid eats nothing but dry cereal and fruit snacks at 9am on Friday and nothing afterwards, I'm irrationally frustrated and nervous about him suddenly developing brittle bone syndrome. I spent the day shaky with momxiety over it.
So naturally, my overactive fight-or-flight reflexes shut my body down at 8pm with that starving boy's arms around my head, gently twirling the hair at the base of my neck. Just shut my body down, with both my kids still wrapped in their bath towels, the TV and hall lights still on, and I'm almost certain I still have not drained the tub in their bathroom.
Are you getting this? I FELL ASLEEP AT 8PM THE NIGHT THE EASTER BUNNY WAS SUPPOSED TO COME.
Luckily for me, both of my kids prefer my side of the bed, and typically create a human "F" with my body. Oliver lays horizontally across all of the pillows, with his hands in my hair (I suspect he'll either have a fetish or be a hair stylist), and Spencer likes to listen to tummy gurgles so she sleeps right on my torso. I woke up to their restless violence at 4:38am and my first thought was "when are you guys gonna start sleeping in your own beds?" but my second thought was "SHIT."
I ran. I turned off my TV, the lights, and put a diaper on my unconscious child. Stubbing my toes and banging my elbows throughout my house, I hid eggs and set out baskets filled with candy and dollar items from Target, because I guess I'm just that mom all around this year. I don't remember the rest. We woke up 4 hours later to sunshine and Oliver dry-heave gagging like a cat. Not feelin' too hot after starving himself for 48 hours, I suppose.
We sleepily checked out our little prizes from the Bunny who was on a brokespurt (a thing no one noticed) and loves Target as much as Mom does (a thing Spencer noticed). The amazing thing about my perfect little people is that the Bunny could've brought them each a single lollipop, or gotten each one a puppy and a lifetime supply of Coldstone, and they'd still be the exact same amount of thrilled and grateful.
So I made coffee and oatmeal (which Oliver ate!) while they tried to find all of the eggs that the dumb Bunny hid when she was, essentially, sleepwalking. It took forever and with many breaks, but how cute and clever was she to have hid eggs inside a pyramid of blocks?! (don't remember).
I know there is a deeper meaning to Easter, and if I were just ever so slightly more committed, we'd have walked to the church right across from our house. We moved recently, and I only just realized that I now live directly across from the church I attended as a little one, where my mom taught Sunday school. That's so special!
But we're not regular church goers, or even really religious (we're generally holiday attenders, who also love the Buddha, aka frauds), I was on a weird amount of sleep, and I thought I was still risking Oliver vomiting in public. He likes to do that to me a lot. So cups on cups of black coffee from my family's coffee farm, Easter books, hardboiled eggs, and balcony chalk happened.
I put ice cubes in milk, left my keys in my mailbox that I didn't even need to be checking on a Sunday, watched my son stick a DVD in the DVD player he had already broken an hour prior, substituted Reese's Pieces for a healthy snack, and sat in front of a paused Littlest Pet Shop for 20 minutes thinking Netflix was still loading.
Oliver took a nap two hours early, Spencer walked head-first into the sliding glass door. I also referenced myself as the Easter Bunny multiple times on the phone, and flung the front door open in my underwear when our Godmama stopped by to surprise us with the sweetest Easter prizes and a new DVD player.
It was a super duper sleepy Easter Sunday, and we were a mess.
But we picked each other up by our britches, cleaned ourselves up, and headed out to our favorite thing about holidays: dinner. Just kidding - family. With dinner.
And we made it through about 45 seconds of standing outside Auntie Monica's house taking family iPhone photos, yawning and blinking slowly and looking real bratty in all of them.
Oliver ate nothing but broccoli and mango while the rest of us ate dinner. He attempted to break their DVD player too. Spencer rocked a babydoll to sleep in the middle of a chaotic room, and then looked up at me and said "Mom, I'm ready to go". And that was that. I don't remember the rest.
Happy Super Duper Sleepy Post-Easter Sunday from us to you.