March 2018 – Minus Prince Charming

Alternate Title: Why Parents Shouldn’t Rush Holiday Traditions

Baby’s first everything is exciting, so of course I went nuts with Little Man’s first Easter last year. I had an Easter basket made with his name on it, bought the books and knick knacks for it months in advance, and planned his outfit from head-to-toe. But while I might have gone nuts, I wasn’t totally insane. I understood that an 11-month-old wouldn’t be able to partake in the Easter traditions I fondly remembered: dying eggs with mom, hunting for hidden eggs with my brother, and raiding the candy when no one was looking with my dad.

This year, though, Little Man is almost two. He’s grown from a baby to a little boy. A little boy who loves eggs, stickers, painting…and smearing anything messy all over himself and the cat. So dying eggs was definitely happening, definitely would be the start of a favored new holiday tradition, and definitely was a wise parenting decision.

Or definitely not.

First, I gave up precious nap time to prep, time I should have used doing laundry so either one of us actually has clothes to wear come Easter. But I thought of the fun we’d have, and knew it was worth the time. At least I was smart enough to do the liquid dye while he was asleep and safely confined in a crib.

Upon his waking, I shared my genius plan with my still groggy toddler who thought it was brilliant, so brilliant he threw a fit when I told him painting eggs required a clean diaper. But once we got past that, it was great.

Except when control freak Mommy didn’t want him to mix the two colors of paint. Or when destructo toddler decided smashing or throwing the brightly colored “balls” sounded more fun than putting stickers on them. Or when we both realized our hands were permanently green, and we were showing up to Easter brunch as Mini-Hulk and his mom.

Not of fan of Momma’s artwork. Or my green hands.

So the only egg with stickers is the one I modeled for him. The shaving cream eggs aren’t edible (a common sense thing I should have realized before buying all the supplies)—not to mention they left us both green from our elbows down. And for an hour of prep, he spent about 15 minutes interested in any of it—except eating the broken eggs. He liked the eating!

Mmm, I should have broken more of these.

So was it wise to attempt the tradition of egg dying at the wonderful age of almost two? Definitely not. Was it fun regardless of the mess and stress? Hell yes.