Survived my third annual Irish Seder last night. This time I made brisket (which was lovely), soup (also lovely), undercooked some carrots and baked potatoes (not so lovely) and forgot the broccoli altogether. But everyone had fun, and I had enough to send leftovers home with everyone and still have enough so that you can’t fit anything else in the fridge. I do the seder for Marc, really. I know that Passover is a kids’ holiday, and you are supposed to get kids really involved and a part of it – but I feel like my kids get enough attention. My seder is just for Marc. For the adults. The kids – I feed them and let them run wild – and it works better for everyone that way :-).
After cleaning up last night, I hid the eggs, set up the baskets and wrote the letter from the Easter Bunny. Yes, that’s right, fictional fairy tale characters write notes to my kids. Santa does it, the tooth fairy leaves missives to Jess and the Easter Bunny wrote a lovely little note to both the kids this morning, telling him how proud he is, how much they’ve grown, etc. Then we went down to my mother’s house. Every year, my mother does a big Easter Egg hunt for all the kids. I have nine neices and nephews, the oldest just turned thirteen, and Sam is the littlest at two and a half. This year, everyone older than seven hid the eggs, and younger than seven found them. Of course, Sam refused to have any part of the egg hunt, and I had to press Alex into service.
Sam’s not much of a joiner, to put it mildly. In fact, at any family function – it takes about two and a half hours before he’s ready to start socializing. Not that anyone understands that, and because he’s the only little kid, he gets a ton of (unwanted on his part) attention from people who love him and want so badly to interact with him. I’ve tried to explain if they’d just leave him alone, he’d warm up faster, but after a while, realized that I was just hurting their feelings – so I just let them try and put up with Sammy screaming “NOOOOO” and burying his little face into my chest. And, true to form, just as we were getting ready to go, he started crawling around the floor with my mother, and playing with my sister in law. This is his third Easter – and I have yet to get him actually in the big traditional Easter picture that my mother does every year with all the grandchildren.
House is, as per usual, in shambles, Sam and Marc are napping and Jess is eating an ice cream sundae and watching Mary Poppins. I could use Mary around here right now, a nice little song to make everything hop back into it’s proper spot sounds pretty good right now.