The Easter Egg Hunt that Wasn't

If you and I are friends on Facebook, then bear with me here. I've already vomited out my frustration there, and everyone was very kind, but I figured I'd flesh things out with a little more detail here and also share a few pictures. I keep thinking about why the whole thing bothered me so and so it must be written out. Also, one day it will be a funny memory, a story I'll tell around a holiday table. 

Every month I attend a MOPS group down the road at this huge-mongous church, which is full of very lovely ladies. Once a week I also attend a Bible study, which is a much smaller group of MOPS ladies. This Tuesday was a MOPS-wide Easter Egg hunt at the home of our leader. I was excited to go, because apparently I care very much about Easter Egg hunts. It's a Thing for me, and I'm not sure why. I always loved attending our church wide Easter Egg hunt at home in Hattiesburg, mostly because it was a chance for me to admire all of our very cute church children, especially the Green Bean Kid. I loved the whole experience, in the fabulous backyard of a church member, cookies and punch, and the kids zigzagging all over the place to find eggs. One year Beaux was even the Easter Bunny, sweating to death in a huge bunny suit. In fact, I felt more than a little regret that we missed Parkway's annual hunt this year, and had even considered driving home for it, until my sensible husband quashed that idea.  

It's just one of those Things that I anticipated, having Thomas. Some people probably can't wait to have their kid's picture taken with Santa Claus, or the Easter Bunny, and I could care less for that tradition. Last year, we took Thomas and he was fabulous, crawling across the lawn toward some eggs, hanging out with all the other babies who didn't really know what in the hell was going on. 

See? Totally great. Nom-nomming on eggs is what Peter Cottontail WANTS you to do when you're a baby!

Anyway, so I loaded up Thomas for our scheduled Easter Egg hunt. He wasn't in the greatest of moods, and Beaux had sat on the couch with him and fed him breakfast by trickery. There was buzz all over Facebook of mamas debating whether to go, as the temperature had taken a nose dive. I wasn't too worried, and dressed Thomas in sensible warm clothes. My grandma has requested a picture of him in his overalls, and there was a lady slated to take official pictures, so I dressed him in his overalls with a long sleeved shirt under a short sleeved shirt, and bundled him into a warm jacket. No precious Easter bunny-emblazoned outfits for this dude. With plenty of tissues stuffed in my pockets, we were ready to go.  

As soon as we arrived, Thomas spent some quality time on a rocking horse in the living room. Then he realized that all the good stuff was outside, in the backyard. A trampoline, a swing set and slide, a car on a track, a riding tractor, and a huge sandbox full of sand toys. Can you say, little boy heaven? 

He's gotten pretty good at the trampoline, and was not happy when I pulled him off to go take pictures. This kid is not used to 'sitting still' for a picture, since most of his life has been documented by patient people who follow him around. He did not want to sit in a small wicker chair, absolutely did not want to go on the front porch. When I set him down, he galloped straight back to the yard, with all the fun stuff, like some small heat seaking missile. There was no wrestling him into place, so I sighed and let him play. And then wiped his nose. And let him play, and wiped his nose. I could write this sequence for a whole paragraph. The wind was cold, and all the kids were running around with snot, many of them wearing HATS and MITTENS. In April in Mississippi. It boggles the mind. 

Soon enough, it was time to hunt Easter Eggs. Well, first, all the kids were supposed to gather round and hear about Resurrection Eggs. I think this is something the Baptists do, and I didn't get to hear about it much since my child refused to leave the play area. At least there were a few other mamas with some under-two kids in the same boat, so I didn't feel like the heathen of the bunch. 

When it was time, for sure, to hunt eggs, I grabbed Thomas's bucket and hauled him towards the wooded area. Eggs of every color were peppered in easy sight. "Let's find some eggs and put them in your bucket!" I suggested brightly, and yet when his feet hit the ground, he was headed back for more fun. Eggs schmeggs! Who needs eggs, or the candy hidden inside? I could not get him to come back, there was kicking, and screaming. I knew it was not going to happen, not with a play tractor only yards away, with no other kids around to hijack it. He was the ONLY child not out hunting eggs, though, the ONLY ONE. Thomas ended up with two eggs to his name, and that's just because I threw them in his bucket, trying to convince him that eggs were more fun than a tractor or a trampoline.

This is the same tractor that later he threw a fit over because he got frustrated with a lever on it. At this point, I was aggravated. I'd been surpervising him playing, only getting to have scraps of conversation with whoever wandered by. All my tissues were well used, and there was still snot, lots of snot. I know some people can let the snot flow, but I cannot. I will wipe my child's nose with my own shirt, if need be, and not blink. And there were SNACKS on the back porch that I was not enjoying. GOOD SNACKS. 

Later on, the photographer lady came over and oblingingly followed Thomas around. She was so kind and understanding, which is good, because I was frustrated. I wanted my child to cooperate. I wanted him to find some eggs, let me snap a few cute pictures, and eat some cookies. Somewhere deep inside I knew I needed to let it go, that I was mad because my expectations were in the dust. Part of me really did understand that there was too much for him to do, in this private backyard playground, for him to think Easter Egg hunting was more fun than playing. Now that I think back on it, I should stashed some M&M's in my pocket for bribing purpose, especially for the pictures. I've never bribed him with candy before, but I'm not above trying. Still, it was an eye-opening parenting experience, expecting a reasonable outcome, and getting something totally different. Sometimes I forget that he's still barely past the baby stage, that I can't expect him to act like kids older than he. It wasn't that Thomas didn't have a good time, it's that I wasn't translating his experience as the good time I wanted him to have. He had a fabulous time, I was too busy worrying that he wasn't doing what he was SUPPOSED to do to enjoy it. 

Sometimes, you just have to let it go. Eat a chocolate chip cookie on your way out. 

And hope that next year, things will go differently. 

Comments

[Kim]

In our family we refer to the town's egg hunt as the candy grab. Because there truly isn't any hunting going on. Just a lot of grabbing.

[lindsey]

omg! still laughing. my daughter was the only one more interested in picking flowers than playing t-ball way back when! embarrassing. but yes, we have to let it go sometimes. welcome to motherhood. great pictures. and there will come the day when you find yourself laughing about this - just as thomas is in his second round of therapy! i was just lamenting the fact that no one is home this year for me to even do an easter basket. happy easter bunny wishes!

love & hugs

[Carrie]

i told you what happened when I attempted to get Bella's picture made with the Victorian Santa and OH MY GOODNESS NO SHE WOULD NOT. BECAUSE. HE. WAS. WEARING. THE. WRONG. CLOTHES.

I did manage to get Christmas cookies and hot apple cider out of the deal. Sometimes, honey, it IS all about procuring the snacks.

[lizardek]

You poor thing! I think that's the hardest thing about being a parent: letting go of our OWN expectations. :) I hope next year goes better, too :)

[Megsie]

I feel for you...I hate it when my kids have a mind of their OWN. Hope the Easter Bunny brings lots of grown-up candy your way.

[Julie]

We didn't go to the hunt this year. Last year, Sid had drill so I took the kids by myself and spent the majority of my time trying to keep them out of the water. Sid had drill again this year on the weekend of the hunt and I decided I just wasn't going to chase them around and be on the brink of a heart attack for a couple of hours while my children explored the pier and beach/water area. I admit to being a horrible mother for not taking her children to the church Easter Egg Hunt but it was just too much and the memories of last year have not faded enough!

[Stephanie]

Oh, Sam. I'm sorry. I know it's hard when kids are less than cooperative with what we'd like them to do. They're so crazy independent like that! :)

Happy Easter! Hope that chocolate chip cookie made everything better.

[keith]

Damn Girlfriend!

Thomas is just like his Uncle Keith....he disdainss all rules and expectations and follows his own path.

His mommy just needs to quit worrying about whether or not he does what SHE wants him to do and go about the task of enjoying the randomness of his life to come!!!

Great to see you in church Sunday!!!

Love you large..........

[violetismycolor]

I have to agree with Uncle Keith up there. Unfortunately, kids are who they are and sometimes they don't want to be or do the things we want them to. It's important to remember who the Easter Egg hunt was for. It's a really hard thing. I want my daughter to love pink, like I do but it is the one color she refuses to wear...AND it would SO be her color.

Hang in there...

[Bethany]

Hehe, boy can I relate. A couple of years ago, my in-laws set up a fabulous Easter hunt for Natalie, who had just turned two... but did she want to hunt for Easter eggs? No. She wanted to sit in the wading pool FOR THE REST OF HER NATURAL LIFE. We haven't done a traditional egg hunt since. :) I love the pictures in your post. It's easy to tell that, even though Thomas wasn't participating "correctly," he was having a blast!

[keith]

Recent evidence shows that Jesus was actually made of chocolate so it turns out the the easter bunny was right after all!

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