Easter brunch now has to take into account nap times, eating times, and room to play-- we had 3 babies, the normal bunch of Avery, Diane, and Elliot. They are starting to interact more. Elliot was grumpy after 45 minutes in his crib of no-napping (he knew he was missing out on the fun!), while the ladies knew how to take it easy, each one napping well in a pack-n-play. Elliot shed a few tears because he knows not how to share yet (and was crying over a sneeze!). The foam letters were, of course, the hit and it was extra cute when Avery picked up the A.
Avery, 8 1/2 mo.
Diane, 7 mo.
Brunch morphed into a great poker game, and it seemed everyone had a wonderful Easter.
We even got up that morning for a 7am church service. I'm becoming old fashioned, I think. I just couldn't shake the feeling that with a family, Easter doesn't feel like Easter without some wretchedly early church-going (growing up, my parents trucked all 5 of us, in our Easter best, to a 6am sunrise service, had breakfast, came home to crawl into bed for 45 minutes or so, and then trucked us back to regular church at 9:30... every single year). I hesitated to wake Elliot for the service, thinking I'd regret it, thought Pat could sleep in and be home with him. I was all ready to walk out the door by myself, when I gently stirred Pat, "Honey, it's still not Easter if I go to church by myself... I'm waking Elliot, let's go." Surprisingly, Elliot did great, not a fuss, Pat did great, not a fuss, and it definitely felt like Easter.
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