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My daughter has crossed over into that magical age where she knows the truth about Santa and the Easter Bunny, but is still young enough to think she's pretty darn worldly in having this knowledge. As a result, she has been asking me about the "Easter Bunny" all week.
Yes. "Easter Bunny." Just like that -- air quotes and all. Lest I forget that she's far too hip to fall for that story, y'know.
(I notice she's not too hip to request peanut butter eggs, though. Just sayin'.)
Meanwhile, this has not been the very finest week of my life, and as a result, the "Easter Bunny" found herself making a mad dash to the store on Friday shortly before the kids came home from school....
But this isn't about me. Nope, this is about other blogging moms and what they have to say about the Easter Bunny. After all, tomorrow's Easter, and the famed bunny is on many minds.
Ann Hagman Cardinal is waxing nostalgic over at La Bloga:
On this, my 16th Easter in Vermont, I find myself driving around in the blinding snow as I rush around to buy last minute candy for my eleven year old son’s basket. No, he no longer believes in the Easter bunny, but I will continue to make up a basket for him, probably until he’s 45.
[...]
My childhood memories of Easter in our small 1960’s New Jersey town are so vivid they are in Technicolor. [...] I would endure church with my parents and four older siblings, restless throughout because after mass we would participate in the community Easter egg hunt. I can still see the green field now, with the brightly colored eggs peeking out from behind the trees and shrubs. It was always a sunny day with blue skies and moderate temperatures. Then we would return home and the sugar bacchanalia would commence. I would spend the rest of the afternoon trying to protect my chocolate bunny from my three greedy brothers. Usually my father would be the one to bite its head off. Despite the gluttony of the men in my family, the warmth of those Easter Sundays is what I recall first.
[...]
And though right now Carlos’ favorite part is that it is one of two days a year I allow him to eat candy in the morning, I hope there is more he will remember. A day of bright colors and sweet tastes. A day of rebirth and new promise. And the gift of another day our little family can celebrate together. And perhaps in loving memory of my father, I will bite the head off of Carlos’ chocolate Easter bunny.
At The Big DumpTruck, Jody is imploring the hopping giftster to bring her some better weather:
We could skip the candy if you would just bring me a warm, sunny day. I realize that Easter is way early this year, so normally we're dealing with April temps instead of March ones, but still, I have certain expectations about Easter that just aren't going to be met.
[...]
So I'll ask again; instead of sugary stuff, can you give me a 55 degree day with puffy clouds and no wind? That would rock. (Of course, I wouldn't turn down the warm day AND some of those chocolate covered marshmallow rabbits that I love...)
And ... for a different kind of girl coloring eggs turns her thoughts to what's important about Easter egg hunts:
I left my Tool Man and our little bolts home alone this afternoon to color eggs (after we'd been to our town Easter egg hunt, which, btw, if your kid is 10 years old, fellow Moms and Dads, you do not need to hustle out there with them to get the goods, alright?! Sheesh. The only exception to this rule is as follows: if - and only if - you see a giant Reece's Peanut Butter Egg on the ground and your 10 year old has dashed by it in hopes of snagging that lame stick of Laffy Taffy. Then, by all means, knock out the kid zeroing in on your chocolate and peanut butter, throw your body over the treat, then remind your kid when he comes back with his bucket of crappy bubblegum and assorted jawbreakers that you talked about the good stuff strategy and you damn well expect better out of him next year).
Do you ever wonder about the inner workings of the Easter Bunny's life? Visit Blonde Mom Blog to find out just how far
