The Aftermath of the Easter Bunny

This is the part where I wonder what the heck I'm thinking trying to photograph three kids 4 and under after the Easter baskets have been fully raided.
D-u-m-b.

I was in love with Avee's dress. In. Love. I thought I had cornered the market on most adorable Easter dress ever. J dressed her in it, I primped her, I encouraged her peacock strut and dancing twirls. I beamed with pride at every compliment over it.

I came home and my brother looks at Avee sitting on the couch and notes, "She looks like a Dunkin' Donuts commercial."

Um yeah. I tried to rework my view the rest of the day. All I could see was a coffee cup and a donut box when I looked at her.

I think he needs to reimburse me for that dress, he totally ruined it for me.

Monday morning and I'm seriously rethinking the stupidity generousity of the Easter Bunny. It's like he doesn't know what entire chocolate bunnies and Reese's peanut butter eggs by the pound do to a child.

Avee is flopping around the floor from one dramatic fit to another. She's so busy fitting, she scarcely has time to finish one before she begins another. In her defense, they are fits over things like torn yogurt lids, unpeeled eggs, and the audacity of the mother to try and dress her.

Bo is just consistently citing his likes and dislikes. Mostly dislikes. Of all the shirts in his closet, I always manage to pull out the ones he hates the most. He doesn't even evoh like the shirts I choose. And later, it was the vowels. He doesn't like any vowels. In fact, he hates them all. Except maybe "O". Kind of. Yeah, he likes "O".

O is for oscillate.

The only one who hasn't suffered an overdose of sugar is making up for it with an overdose on asparagus. Uhhh, are babies supposed to have asparagus? Methinks it has caused a raucous upon his digestive tract.

In other news, we've had lots of fun visitors in the last week and a half. It started Thursday last with a visit from Aunt S and Grandma. That was totally awesome, to quote my boy quoting "The Incredibles". It was too short of a visit and Grandma instilled in Bo a very hearty passion (note, I did not say "healthy) for collecting aluminum cans. Part of my mom's eternal quest to beautify this grossly littered planet. Now her sweet grandson has enlisted in the cause. Much to her delight, and our amusement.

Nextly my friend "Breitmama" from St. Louis came. She brought her SIL, her 7 year and twin 5 year old girls. We finally were in the majority around here. J spent a good part of their visit just trying not to get swept away by all the estrogen. Just kidding. We were a pretty mellow crowd. And when I say mellow, I mean, the cravings for chocolate and the talk of childbirth experiences were kept to a minimum.

My friend spent the entire 2 and a half days here doing my laundry. I really don't even know what to say about that. Except that a) I have no shame and b) I bet YOU don't have a friend like that. She's amazing. And that was even before all the laundry-doing.

They left Saturday morning and Saturday afternoon two of my brothers came to visit.

Now, what's so exciting about Freaking Middle of Nowhere, Iowa you ask?

I'll tell you.

It's me.

I bring it all. And if and when I leave, I'll be taking it with me.

My brothers are great company. We had Pho. We listened to bad jokes. We gorged on Easter candy and Avee spent the entire time chasing, enticing, screaming, laughing, getting knocked down, and laughing some more at my brother's 9 month old "puppy". Some Siberian, Alaskan, Samoan, Samuri type dog. He told me his breed more than once. I can't remember. I do know however, he is NOT the same size as my 9 month old. But about as michevious. Bo commented at dinner last night that he would like for the dog to leave because he "chews on evwy-sing we have". My brother Jonathan said, "Shhhh!" as if I hadn't noticed.

My oldest brother stole my husband. Something that required steel-toe boots and a hard hat and J was in. It could have been anachonda hunting, but if you have to wear a hard-hat---say no more.

And finally, I would like to leave you with this gem of a conversation with a coworker, as yet unmentioned in this blog, that I had last week.

Me: My friend's husband works for the CIA and the..."
Him: You're not supposed to tell me that!"
Me: (feeling a little shocked and confused) Tell you what?
Him: That he works for the CIA!
Me: Uhhh, do you know my friend? Do you know where they live? Do you know what he does for the CIA?
Him: You aren't supposed to talk about people who work for the CIA.
Me: So, why do you think I know?
Him: Your friend has a big mouth.
Me: Hmmm, I'm thinking you're kind of ignorant, why on earth would you think it's okay to say something like that to me?
Him: You shouldn't know he works for the CIA!
Me: Dude, lay off of the spy movies.
Him: You shouldn't say your friend's husband works for the CIA anymore.
Me: You're being ridiculous
Him: No I'm not, I'm 100% serious.
Me: I know. That's why I said you are being ridiculous. Besides, didn't you even see True Lies? Arnold's own wife didn't know he worked for the CIA. If it was a secret, like you are assuming it is, then even my friend wouldn't know what her husband does!
Him: Oh yeah, that's right.

Yes folks, it took me citing TRUE LIES for me to have any credibility.
The funny thing I was even going to waste my time telling this dude was, that the people who work at the foodcourt for the CIA, like McDonald's employees, can tell people they work for the CIA. Isn't that funny?

I thought so.