|Orange scones, inspired by the ones at Panera|
|Chocolate chip scones|
|Buckeye cake (with minor revisions)|
We were planning to attend Easter morning Mass this year. We had reluctantly resigned ourselves to the fact that our days of being able to go to the Saturday vigil Mass (which runs from 10pm-1am at our church) were over. We figured we would have to wait many years until all our children are old enough to hold it together that late at night. But Tom was getting more and more bummed about it throughout the day, and finally decided that we should just give it a try, and cross our fingers that the kids wouldn't turn into crazy people. And it worked out amazingly well! We put them to bed at home, woke them up when it was time to go, and carried them to the car. They were in their pajamas, and we brought their blankies into the church. Both of them slept the entire time (Stella in her car seat, Sly lying on the pew). It was probably the first time since Sly was born that I was actually able to pay full attention at Mass!
And then, the crash.
Sly is experiencing a familiar condition today. A few months ago, I termed it "Too Much Christmas". Today, it's re-surfacing as "Too Much Easter". He endured broken sleep for the vigil Mass on Saturday, a late night on Easter, no naps all weekend, way too much candy/cookies/pop to eat (I hate how you can't control their consumption when you're at a family party and all the relatives are basically forcing the sweets on them!), and several days of elevated excitement and activity.
Pretty much the only thing that's issued out of his mouth all day is one continuous droning whine. The only real words I can make out are mostly some variation on "Sly want candy."
Here's a typical conversation today:
Mommy: "Sly, do you want a drink?"
Sly [whining]: "ehhhhhhhhhh"
Mommy: "Say 'yes' or 'no'"
Mommy: "Okay, I guess that's a no."
Sly [louder, and more urgently]: "EHHHHHHH!"
Which means that he apparently does want a drink. Sigh.
Yesterday, I made the stupid stupid decision to trim my own bangs. I don't know why I thought this was a good idea to do on Easter, of all days. I've trimmed them myself many times, but I recently had them cut in a different shape that I'm not used to, and I really have no clue how to trim them. I snipped one part too short, so then I wanted to even up the rest, so I cut everything else around it shorter, then I saw that another part was too short, and then.....you get the idea. They look WEIRD and bad. They don't swoop now at all, and they aren't even heavy enough to stay down on my forehead so sections of them keep popping up in weird directions. Tom came into the bathroom, saw the horrendous job I was doing and said, "ahhh! Stop NOW! Put down those scissors! Just because you're having a bad hair day, doesn't mean you should reach for the scissors!" He stated matter-of-factly that I would have to just wear them clipped back until they grow out a bit. Ugh. I think he's right.
But it's a testament to my maturity that I'm not really freaking out about it. Though I have to say, it's still pretty tempting to go grab the scissors and try some more to "fix" it.
Anyways...that's why you won't be seeing any pictures of me from Easter day this year :-P