Easter Egg Hunt - Who Is The Real Hunter...You or Your Baby???

As seen in post from 10/2011
On a particularly sweltering Easter Sunday in South Carolina, my parents and I, along with my two toddlers ventured out to our first-ever Easter egg hunt.  Jump castles, face painting and games galore were scattered across a great, green lawn behind a church right in town.  Thankfully, ice water stations were abundant and I didn’t have to worry as much about my father or my boys. 

The jumpy house for toddlers had the fewest in line.  It always seems awkward–you throw your little tyke into an enclosure of mesh so he can bounce into a mess of strange, random little kids.  We smile at them from the outside; patiently watching them go up and down, side to side, even get a little trample or two. Before long they’re bored and they slide out. 

My 15-month old was too young to participate in the egg hunt, which I soon would realize why—so he stayed with my parents in the shade of some pines.  I found our designated spot and prepared for the hunt.  As we lined up, a various mixture of moms and dads with one or more children, I realized we still had time to wait before the ribbon was cut. 

Under the hot sun, 20 minutes ticks by, seemingly longer than it does at the while you’re waiting in the doctor’s office wearing a paper dress.  How do you explain the time issue to an excitable toddler who can see hundreds of colorful eggs lying just in front of us?   As we stand, beads of sweat forming on my brow, a direct order from the sun; adults readied, closing in tighter and tighter at the ribbon, waiting for the volunteers to cut it already.  I wanted my boy to get a lot of eggs.  But I worried about the other parents.  Did they have a plan?  So…quickly I devised one.  We will book it, Ninja-Warrior style, to the middle and I’d kick eggs to my boy who will swiftly scoop them into our basket.  I told my two-year-old of our master plan.

Finally, we see a chopper nearing us.  The draw to this particular egg hunt was the promise of a helicopter flying direct and low over our field of eggs.  Sure enough, they followed through as promised.  This moment elated me as I saw my son’s eyes fill with wonder as his hair wisped a dance of excitement; the little bunny nose they’d hand painted on his cheek now smudging down his smiling little face.  We cheered as the helicopter dropped those colorful plastic eggs into the roped-off hunt zone that beckoned us to begin!  As it flew off, I was suddenly aware of butterflies in my stomach.  What was this feeling?  I just wanted to make darned sure my happy little boy stayed this way and grabbed his worth in eggs.

This was the moment, folks; the birth of my parental competitiveness.  I’d seen it on TV with pageant moms and baseball dads.  I didn’t know I had it in me.  But suddenly, with my legs poised for the race, I had one mission.  GET. LOTS. OF. EGGS.  In my imagination, I held my son like an NFL running back with a football, heading for the end zone. I don’t remember the ribbon coming down; I just remember blocking and ducking and kicking and scooping.  With about 30 eggs in my basket, I felt triumph!  We won!  I cheered with my son who could’ve cared less if we had gotten 10 eggs.  I was proud.  Oh, the glory!

Almost immediately, the guilt kicked in.  Was that poor sportsmanship or was I defending my little son against those rascally four-year-olds?   I decided I needed to redeem myself, so I kneeled down to my son’s level and told him to look for a little girl who didn’t have any eggs–or very few eggs–and to give her some of ours…what’s wrong with me???  I’m even calling these eggs ours, instead of his. 

Ultimately, the arrival of this competitive mom surprised me and I’m intrigued to learn more about her.  I know she will come in handy when it comes to my children’s grades and their utmost success.  Though I also know I need to keep it in check and not become one of those moms!

Go on out there!  Proudly shout out your child’s name!  Encourage them.  Ultimately, just remember to be gracious and respect the other kids and parents out there.  Even if it means giving up a few eggs.

Cute, Dye-Free Easter Egg Ideas

As usual, I got these tips from http://www.parents.com/.  They have so many creative & fun ideas for crafts with your kiddos.  Below are a few of my favorites!  I LOVE EASTER!  We usually paint eggs, but I thought it would be fun to have some dye-free tips/ideas to avoid the mess this year.  Check it out!

What you'll need: Floral paper napkins, scissors, foam brush, Elmer's glue, blown-out or ceramic egg, small roll of tape

Make it: Cut flowers or desired design from paper napkins. If using 2-ply napkins, peel away the thin white paper backing from the cutout napkin pieces (this will make it easier to glue to the egg). Use a foam brush to apply glue to half of the egg, then press a napkin flower on top and cover with a thin layer of glue. Add more napkin flowers, one by one, making sure to brush the top of each with glue. Place the half covered egg on the roll of tape and let dry for about 15 minutes, then repeat for the other half of the egg. When completely covered, set the egg on roll of tape and let it dry overnight.

What you'll need: Felt, marker, scissors, craft glue, blown-out or ceramic egg, small white pom-pom, extra small pink pom-pom, pink yarn, hair spray, bottle cap

Make it: To make the outer ear shapes, trace your child's thumb onto pink felt twice. To make the inner ear shapes, trace your child's pinky finger onto white felt twice. Cut all of the ear shapes out, then glue the inner ear shape on top of the outer ear shape, making sure to leave about ¼" at the bottom unattached, and set aside to dry. In the meantime, cut three 1-inch pieces of yarn and spray with hair spray to stiffen; let dry. Rest the egg in the bottle cap and apply two small dots of glue to the top, about ½" apart, and gently separate the unattached part of each bunny ear and press down on the glue dots. When yarn is dry, twist the pieces together in the middle and glue to the front of the egg, about halfway down. Attach the extra small pink pompom on top of the yarn whiskers for a nose. Glue the white pompom to the back of the egg for a tail. Use a marker to draw eyes on the bunny, then draw a mouth. (Tip: draw the letter J then add a loop on the other side.) Leave the bunny on the bottle cap to dry overnight.

Give your Easter eggs an eye-catching effect. Make glittery polka dots without the mess using glue dots and fine glitter.

What you'll need: Hardboiled or blown out egg, bottle cap, ½" glue dots, fine glitter, small plate, paintbrush

Make it: Rest the egg on bottle cap, then apply about 12 glue dots, about ½" apart. Pour glitter onto a small plate and press each glue dot into the glitter until completely covered. Repeat for each glue dot. When all of the dots are coated, use the paintbrush to wipe away any excess glitter.

Kids can arrange adhesive-backed rhinestone jewels into one-of-a-kind designs on eggs.

Kids can achieve a striped look with strips of easy-to-tear Japanese Washi tape, or you can buy ribbon & glue the different colors on. 

The Competitive Mom In Each Of Us

I love this time of year!  The crisp warmth of the sun lets us know autumn is soon to arrive. We’re shuttling our kiddos to their after-school sports.  Maybe this is your first sports season as the proud mom.  Beware.  The competitive mom lives inside of each of us.  It’s what you do with her that counts.  Here is how I found that person inside of me. 

On this particularly sweltering Easter Sunday in South Carolina, my parents and I, along with my two toddlers ventured out to our first-ever Easter egg hunt.  Jump castles, face painting and games galore were scattered across a great, green lawn behind a church right in town.  Thankfully, ice water stations were abundant and I didn’t have to worry as much about my father or my boys. 

The jumpy house for toddlers had the fewest in line.  It always seems awkward–you throw your little tyke into an enclosure of mesh so he can bounce into a mess of strange, random little kids.  We smile at them from the outside; patiently watching them go up and down, side to side, even get a little trample or two. Before long they’re bored and they slide out. 

My 15-month old was too young to participate in the egg hunt, which I soon would realize why—so he stayed with my parents in the shade of some pines.  I found our designated spot and prepared for the hunt.  As we lined up, a various mixture of moms and dads with one or more children, I realized we still had time to wait before the ribbon was cut. 

Under the hot sun, 20 minutes ticks by, seemingly longer than it does at the while you’re waiting in the doctor’s office wearing a paper dress.  How do you explain the time issue to an excitable toddler who can see hundreds of colorful eggs lying just in front of us?   As we stand, beads of sweat forming on my brow, a direct order from the sun; adults readied, closing in tighter and tighter at the ribbon, waiting for the volunteers to cut it already.  I wanted my boy to get a lot of eggs.  But I worried about the other parents.  Did they have a plan?  So…quickly I devised one.  We will book it, Ninja-Warrior style, to the middle and I’d kick eggs to my boy who will swiftly scoop them into our basket.  I told my two-year-old of our master plan.

Finally, we see a chopper nearing us.  The draw to this particular egg hunt was the promise of a helicopter flying direct and low over our field of eggs.  Sure enough, they followed through as promised.  This moment elated me as I saw my son’s eyes fill with wonder as his hair wisped a dance of excitement; the little bunny nose they’d hand painted on his cheek now smudging down his smiling little face.  We cheered as the helicopter dropped those colorful plastic eggs into the roped-off hunt zone that beckoned us to begin!  As it flew off, I was suddenly aware of butterflies in my stomach.  What was this feeling?  I just wanted to make darned sure my happy little boy stayed this way and grabbed his worth in eggs.

This was the moment, folks; the birth of my parental competitiveness.  I’d seen it on TV with pageant moms and baseball dads.  I didn’t know I had it in me.  But suddenly, with my legs poised for the race, I had one mission.  GET. LOTS. OF. EGGS.  In my imagination, I held my son like an NFL running back with a football, heading for the end zone. I don’t remember the ribbon coming down; I just remember blocking and ducking and kicking and scooping.  With about 30 eggs in my basket, I felt triumph!  We won!  I cheered with my son who could’ve cared less if we had gotten 10 eggs.  I was proud.  Oh, the glory!

Almost immediately, the guilt kicked in.  Was that poor sportsmanship or was I defending my little son against those rascally four-year-olds?   I decided I needed to redeem myself, so I kneeled down to my son’s level and told him to look for a little girl who didn’t have any eggs–or very few eggs–and to give her some of ours…what’s wrong with me???  I’m even calling these eggs ours, instead of his. 

Ultimately, the arrival of this competitive mom surprised me and I’m intrigued to learn more about her.  I know she will come in handy when it comes to my children’s grades and their utmost success.  Though I also know I need to keep it in check and not become one of those moms!

Go on out there!  Proudly shout out your child’s name!  Encourage them.  Ultimately, just remember to be gracious and respect the other kids and parents out there.  Even if it means giving up a few eggs.