Tomorrow is Easter. You know, where your kids wake up in the morning and find special fancy baskets filled with colored plastic grass, jelly beans, and other tooth-rotting substances. Maybe a toy or a dyed egg as well.
Except in our house. I might manage to scrape together an Easter bowl for the kids to munch from, but I just don't see the whole basket thing working out this year. Perhaps I should explain that I have never been particularly attached to this holiday. I've always done the baskets for the boys, mostly because my parents did them for us. My dad would hide our dyed eggs all over the house and we'd spend the morning searching for them. But I've never been that organized or ambitious and feel accomplished when I'm able to cobble together the baskets before they come downstairs on Easter morning.
Morgan's idea is that we take them to the Lego store and let each of them pick out a gift. I'm good with that, as goodness knows they already have more than enough candy in their lives. But then they have to learn the Truth. Not sure I'm ready for that.
What kind of a parent am I that I let things get too busy to do a holiday for my kids? Clearly a busy one, between work and trying to get a specific job I want and cooking and cleaning (such as it is), etc. Hopefully this won't be one of those things that comes out when they're grown. I can hear it now: "Man, do you remember that year Mom didn't even bother to do Easter baskets for us? That was so lame." Sigh.