The vegetable garden is finally starting to see some sprouts. The asparagus is always the first to pop up, and I’m in love with its fresh spring flavor.  

New apple trees...I"m not sure why they got planted so deeply....

Flowers are blooming all over the place, which makes being outside even more spectacular!

My favorite poppies - they don't look real! They look like coffee filter flowers

I can have fresh flowers in the house now, and Ellie and I have spent loads of time filling our arms with bunches of flowers and arranging them in vases.  She actually has quite a good eye, and definitely gives me her opinions about where flowers should go.

Ellie's arrangement

The first peonies (I'm not sure how many I'll have this year since I lost so many plants last year from too much rain

My latest craze has been using placing bunches of herbs in vases…they are so hearty, make the house smell so fresh, and last for ever! I was inspired by this month’s Martha Stewart’s magazine to use simple leaves for decorating, and the herb idea was born out of that…

MS used leaves down the center of a Father's Day table - which isn't exactly practical because of their height...but on a mantle? Looks great!

Chives, Rosemary and Oregano

Sage and our first real rose!

Blossoming Sage and Chives

Having people over to share in the fun is one of our favorite things to do – especially as a family.  And today was no different, but I’m far too tired to go into it tonight…I’m off to sleep, and will try to post more about that tomorrow……zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

*Straight from MarthaStewart.com

• 2/3 cup honey
• 1/2 cup water
• 1 vanilla bean, split and scraped
• 1/4 cup fresh lime juice (I use Santa Cruz Organic brand)
• 4 cups soda water (or sparkling wine)

1. Bring honey, water and vanilla bean to a simmer in a sauce pan. Cook, stirring until honey dissolves.  Let cool completely. Strain through a fine sieve (I used a metal coffee filter) – there will still be some seeds.

2. Pour into pitcher, stir in lime juice, and top with soda water.

love

I usually dread Mother’s Day. My first three were, well, pretty rough. Today changed that…and I’m happy about the change!

Wow. We fit a ton of stuff in. Holy mackerel! Ellie was up at the crack of dawn as usual, and ready for me to get her dressed and do an art project. I explained to her that most families were celebrating Mother’s Day and that Daddy was going to help her this morning…to my surprise this actually worked, and they were off to breakfast and errand running. I stayed in bed for a bit, but I’m one of those people who can’t get back to sleep once we’re awake…sucks, but hey, if I haven’t learned to live with it by now, I doubt I ever will!

When they got back, Ellie presented me with an absolutely adorable card that she had addressed and signed herself – my first true card of its kind. Nothing like her homemade, heartfelt script to melt my heart (and apparently she picked out the card herself)! Jeffrey gave me a gift card to Michael’s – which I’ll be using for cake decorating supplies, I’m quite sure.

Then it was time to get things ready for the late lunch we had planned with my brother and his wife who is expecting…I had settled on Thai Steak Salad, and had set the steak to marinating last night.  Jeffrey figured out someway to get Ellie detached from my hip, and I got to setting the table outside.  The weather has been absolutely spectacular, and the warmth took lunch outside.  It reached 88ºF today.  I hadn’t really planned on hosting lunch, so I was flying by the seat of my pants when it came to setting the table…ended up with a table cloth and chargers that I found on clearance last year at TJ Maxx, and some candle holders I had bought at Marshalls for $5.  The glass votives had broken, so I had to get inventive when it came to the glass inserts.  Nothing seemed to fit right, so I had to adapt a few things I had on hand…

I used a mini candleholder from the Dollar Tree (its top was smaller than its base, and fit in the metal stand perfectly) and one of the many votives leftover from our wedding...I hot glued them together...

Placed them in the metal stand, added a gorgeous poppy and some "filler" and voila...a perfect little center piece, and yes, that's a real flower....

I made a few napkin holders to add a variety of color (simply glued some sequined ribbon into an approximate size), and stuck with “simple” as a theme.

Initially I was going to leave everything just subtle and muted, but after one last dash downstairs for a touch of glue on the flower “vases,” the coffee filters from the Easter Party caught my eye…they were just the touch of color that I needed!

Just in case you were wondering what it looked like before placing the bowl!

I can’t say it’s my favorite tablescape, but for 15 minutes, it wasn’t that bad…

Lunch was a yummy Thai Steak Salad, which was perfect for the weather…I couldn’t imagine baking, roasting, or using the stove on a day like today…the salad was easy to prepare in advance, and was perfectly refreshing and light .

Pina Coladas (virgin for Jeffrey and Suzie) were the perfect accent for the freshness of the salad, and added a flare of celebration to the day. Let me be clear…I rarely induldge in a Pina Colada, despite the fact that it’s such delicious concoction.  They’re just normally so damn fattening.  This month, however, Cooking Light had a Recipe Makeover for a Pina Colada that brought the calorie count down from somewhere in the mid 400s  to 178! Still not exactly a diet beverage, but certainly something I could splurge on!  On top of that, I think I may like the remake better than a real pina colada…their recipe cut the sweetness factor exponentially!  I’ll definitely be making them again this summer!

Once lunch was over, the boys and Ellie were off to fish down at the lake, and Suzie and I went through Ellie’s old baby clothes.  There were five storage bins of her hand-me downs that I’d been avoiding for ages.  Suzie managed to head home with two boxes, the Goodwill will get one, and I kept two more (some of the clothes I just couldn’t bring myself to part with).  I’m so excited to welcome their new little one!

Piles and piles of baby clothes

Once Colin and Suzie left, the day was wrapping up, but didn’t end before Ellie convinced me that the pool wasn’t too cold to swim in (72º is WAAAAAAAY too cold for me personally – but I’m not a 3 year old with a passion for swimming). She spent an hour or so in and out of the pool, more often then not dragging “her” dog Jax in as well.

After we showered, we spent some good family time around the fire pit roasting marshmallows and chomping on S’mores.

The former Jacuzzi - turned firepit

Pretty much an awesome Mother’s Day if you ask me ——– and totally unexpected.

She has never been a good sleeper…her little brain never stops, and all night, every night, she wakes me up with her hollering and going on.  Often times it’s just her dreaming, but more often then not, even if it is just a dream, she wakes herself up and needs comforting – or WANTS comforting.  The lack of sleep is one of the biggest reasons why we haven’t even begun to discuss having another child.  I’m a total raging you-know-what at least a few days a week just simply because I don’t sleep…..ever.

All that to say, our morning began as customary at 6 am.

“MOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMY!!!!!!!”

“Ellie, it’s still sleeping time!”

“No it’s not; it’s LIGHT OUT!!!!!!” Her little voice screeched and wailed. ”I NEEEED MY MOMMY!!!!!” She continued.

I rolled over and looked at Jeffrey who was either still sound asleep or pretending to be….

“Babe?!?!? Can’t you get her.”

“I’m getting up,” his eyes were still closed, the pillow was over his head and the covers tucked neatly under his chin.

“Seriously?!?!”

“Ok, ok.” He got up and attempted to deal with the Princess and her tempestuous attempts at getting dressed.

Apparently her legs weren’t working, her tights were broken, her ballet leotard too small, and unable to hear anything other than what Mommy said, and even then it was only when Mommy said something she liked.

Her yelling and tantrums had woken me up enough that I was out of bed, already short-tempered and annoyed. The only consequence to these fits that works is my leaving the house and heading out for a “drive.” She hates that more than she hates time-outs or any other method of  ”discipline.”

“Mommy’s going to go take a drive unless you put your tights on. 1………….2………..I’m putting my shoes on, Ellie………………2 and a half………….” Finally she let me put her tights on, and finish getting her ready.  I wish she would realize that if she would just accept the fact that the seams of her tights aren’t always going to lay perfectly flat against her toes, that her ballet shoes aren’t going to feel exactly the same every time, that a bit of water left on the outside of her sippy cup doesn’t mean that the cup is leaking. Let’s put this bluntly: I’m over it.

There. I feel better. It’s out. Sometimes having a spirited, smart, manipulative toddler just isn’t all that great. Aaaah. Relief. Sweet relief.

That being said, I love the crap out of this little girl.  Daddy did finally get her out of the house and to their usual Saturday morning breakfast at Denny’s.  They got to ballet class on time with her bun intact – and without any incidents.  While they were gone, I was able to go to Wilco and pick up my chile pepper plants, tomato plants and a few packs of seeds to keep Ellie occupied while I worked in the garden a bit.

The weather here has been absolutely spectacular.  It’s almost as if the weather is making up for last year’s horrendously late summer.  I’m not going to count my chickens before they hatch, and I’m certainly knocking on wood as I say this, but maybe the weather will stick around for a while………….one can hope!

Once Ellie and I were each back home, Jeffrey went about doing whatever it is he does, and Ellie and I headed outside to the garden.  We’re having my brother and his wife over tomorrow (it’ll be her first “mother’s day” – even if the baby hasn’t arrived yet), and I wanted to have some fresh blooms in the house.  We picked flowers, planted seeds, and just spent some good quality time together soaking up the sun.

My favorite poppies, and just as a note, I allow her to dress herself.......

Then it was inside to arrange them……the art of which she is quite opinionated about…

Oh……….and then there was the duck egg incident. Right. Yeah, that was fun. Here’s the deal.  The ducks, for whatever reason, have decided that our front yard is a great place to lay eggs. There were two nests, each full of 10 – 15 eggs each.  The first nest our dear dog Boots discovered and quickly devoured the apparently delicious treasure.  The second nest he didn’t discover until yesterday, and no amount of zapping from his collar could keep him away, so I decided to keep him inside. Well, today…………….I forgot about the nest, but he did not. So, spread out across our front lawn are 10 eggs – broken open with baby ducklings almost ready to hatch. It’s DISGUSTING….especially when you discover them by stepping on one. Yeah. Not fun.  I almost took a photograph of them, but decided that no one would ever want to see that. There are lines that even I won’t cross.

Several hours after the discovery of the broken eggs, Ellie and her Daddy went out fishing on the lake (successfully, I might add).  Ellie loves to fish, and has a new Barbie fishing pole with which she is learning how to cast…they had an absolute blast together.

sticks and water and kids...........timeless

Apparently the falcons are much better fishers than Ellie and Jeffrey

Enjoying the bit of alone time that I had, I decided to take a quick walk around the lake…I was actually looking for some of the work that the beavers have been chipping away at…but the underbrush has hidden most of it.  I was very happy to discover yet another duck nest…with eggs that had yet to be touched by the Evil Boots. There is still hope for baby ducklings yet.

We ended the day with dinner by the fire pit, topped off with s’mores.  Sometimes, when I think of where I came from, I can hardly believe where I am now…and I’m grateful for every little bit.

Not the best picture of Ellie, but I couldn't resist since it's the only one with Boots waiting for her to drop some tidbit for him to devour

Over the years I’ve spent a lot of time in the Caribbean, and have always preferred it to Mexico or Hawaii – for multiple reasons! I’ve always sought out new luxury boutique hotels that are working to establish themselves are are therefore willing to offer rates that are a bit more affordable than their competition.  When I found Grand Isle Resort on Great Exuma, I couldn’t have been more lucky!  I had posted something on aSmallWorld asking for recommendations in the Caribbean and Bahamas, and several people responded that the outer Bahamas were just amazing.  We went for the first time last September, then while I was in Hawaii, Jeffrey went again in December. The trip we returned from yesterday was just as satisfying and amazing as the others.

The Fam: Ashley, Jeffrey, Me, and Ellie Graye (this was obviously after our camera lens broke...I attempted to save what I could)

We met Penelope Cruz and her husband (Ellie introduced herself to their 15 month old boy with a firm push and a “That’s MY suitcase!!!”), saw friends from previous trips, and met two boyfriends for Ellie.  Yes, she decided that the boys she met were indeed her “two boyfriends” and is still talking about how much she misses them. They were together all day every day that we were there.  We were happy that they were both just as strong of swimmers as Ellie, and were incredibly well-tempered and well-mannered.  In seven days of playing together (from breakfast until dinner), there wasn’t a single conflict among the three of them.  Now THAT is amazing.

The Inseparable Three with a sting ray at Chat 'n Chill

Ellie was pretty darn brave – especially when the boys were. She even got in the water with the sharks this time.  Last year, she stood on the bottom stair to the deck, but that was as close as she got. It took a while, but eventually she agreed to get in.  Of course, that was when our lens decided to start malfunctioning, so we got next to no photos of the event – I’m hoping the boys’ mother will send me some.

Yep, those are the kids dangling their feet over the sharks....

The only photo that turned out even halfway decently - and still EG and I aren't looking at the camera...oh well

At some point, I’ll try to post more, but right at this moment, Ellie is awake again with a fever, and mother duties call……………

Life has a way of surprising us with unexpected opportunities to grow, to heal, to live fully. I seem to be one of those special people who has been given those opportunities aplenty. Some of them I’ve used to the fullest, and others, well, I just wasn’t ready to grab onto and make the best of them so they flew by, and I beat myself up for it.

Traumas from childhood are often left where they occurred, hidden behind the city limits of our hometowns, behind the closed doors of houses that other people now live in. The pain doesn’t hide itself, though. We, the survivors, carry it from town to town, from relationship to relationship, from job to job.  Some of us have worked hard to forget about it, to ignore its effects, to believe that it hasn’t touched us – that it never touched us.  Then come the moments in the dark, lonely, quiet corners of everyday life when we sob. The pain of the abuse is overwhelming. We feel weak. We believe we haven’t survived. We feel like we’re lying to everyone we love and to everyone we know. We feel we’re barely holding onto the silk threads of sanity that are threatening to break at any moment. We know we’re losers. We know we’ve lost ourselves to the power that we once depended on for our very existence, for our sustenance, for our life – however miserable it was. We hold onto the secret that “They WON.”

Outwardly, we try to stand tall.  We tell people we weren’t touched. We hold on to whatever it is we tell ourselves is “normal” and strive to be that.  Sometimes we tell the story to present ourselves as unique and strong, even if we don’t really believe we are. Inwardly, we work overtime to convince ourselves that what was done to us “could have been worse.” We try our hardest to keep things together, and to believe the people who grew up next to us who don’t seem to have been touched by the brutal emotional and spiritual abuse.  Most of all, we strive to be accepted – first off by others, and secondly, much more subconsciously, by ourselves.

Acceptance is a big one for us, I think.  But I think it’s more than just wanting acceptance by those who grew up outside of our community.  There’s something to be said about having grown up in a family of hundreds. But it’s not just that we spent everyday together – under intense circumstances – there was a network of support that is not something that people on the outside have every really experienced.  It’s confusing when I look back. On one hand, we were taught to turn on each other. We were taught that we were responsible for the spiritual well being of each and every person there which often times meant exposing the actions of our peers to our abusers – and then waiting for those people to turn on us. Yet on the other side, we were taught to support them, to love them, to accept them, and to be selfless when they really needed us. The conflict of loyalty and betrayal stripped us of our individuality, broke us down, and in many ways killed us.

When news of George Mellone’s passing flashed across the screen of my phone, my first thought was of concern for his sister Beth. Beth and I wouldn’t necessarily have considered ourselves close friends in childhood – we were separated by a year, and in Winham, that was like a lifetime.  However, when we found ourselves living in the same city, we reconnected, and discovered that we had a lot in common – especially in our tastes in music.  We became concert buddies, and she was one of the people I could talk with honestly about my struggles and the process of healing that I was forging forward with.  She understood some of the complicated emotions I was experiencing without my having to explain the dynamics of the church and its control over us even years later. Her practical and phlegmatic personality was extremely helpful as I was struggling to separate the “understanding” part from the “emotional” part. She “got me” without my having to explicitly expose parts of myself that I wasn’t ready to send out to the world.

I knew that she was devastated by the passing of her brother, and there wasn’t a hesitation anywhere in me when I offered to support her “in ANY way”.  In times of such shattering loss, no one should be alone.  For me there is rarely a Cost/Benefit discussion internally when it comes to my commitment to my true friends. I give simply for the benefit of them, not for what it will bring to me. I put aside my own fears to be the best support I possibly can be to someone who is hurting more than I.  I had no idea what that sincere and genuine offer would bring me, but I was willing to stand by my promise.

When Beth sent me a text message saying, “The service is at YFT,” I felt as if I was being forced into an olive press: squeezed, compacted, with no room to breathe. To return to the building where so much of my trauma had occurred seemed unbearable – undoable. I had hit rock bottom several months prior and had just begun to climb up, to rise, to heal.  How could I find the strength to walk into the very building, to see the people from the past, to smell the smells, hear the creaks in the floors and still stand in my new found confidence, my new place of healing. Even with all the self-doubt, I knew I’d have to find a way. I couldn’t let her face it alone. My plane ticket was booked in a few hours, and I began gathering my support contacts – putting them on alert.  Thankfully, I have several people who are loving, caring and understanding. People who believe in my strength, but love me in spite of, and maybe even because of, my weaknesses.

I landed in San Jose, not knowing how I’d be helping Beth, but ready to respond if she called. When I got the request, “Can you help me with the organization of the reception? I need your expertise. It’s in the basement of the church.” I turned to the friend sitting next to me, and I suspect lost all color in my face.

“Holy S***,” I whispered as my head dropped into my hands. I pressed my palms into my eyes. “I guess there’s no time like the present to face that place, but, Good God! if we only get what we’re strong enough to handle, I must be superwoman.”

I was to meet Beth at 11 am at Winham Street Chapel, the building that held so many memories, where I had more than likely spent more time as a child than in our family home. It was the physical location that represented so much abuse, so much pain, so much trauma, and had inundated every part of my life. I parked my car, and stared at the entry.  My limbic system was on overload. My body was shaking from my very core – the only silver lining that I could think of was that my abs were getting a work out from the shaking. I sat in my car, feeling my blood turning to stone, my muscles petrifying, I was being held from the inside out. I stared at the doors I had walked through every morning except Saturdays. Where a bike rack had once been, stood Kerry, the new ‘pastor’ who had been an elder when I was in captivity and had been the one who told me I couldn’t return home from Hungary when I had practically been on my deathbed – and not just physically. My hands were still gripping the steering wheel, its coldness seemed to be the only thing keeping me tied to reality and the only thing preventing my mind from cracking. I listed the things I perceived physically – the leather of the car seat, the music on the radio, the shininess of the paint on the hood of the car.  It was a tool I had learned years ago that kept me from losing myself in the chaos of my disjointed memories and emotions. It was keeping me from floating out of my body, from shaking to death.

Kerry looked so sad, so broken, so defeated – but either it didn’t matter, I didn’t care, or I was actually glad to see him so miserable. The muscles in my abdomen were quivering so deeply, I would never be able to describe it as “shivering” or “trembling.” The strength of the motion rattled my intestines and jostled my kidneys. Every organ was fighting to do their job in the midst of the earthquake that was ripping through my body. Just when I thought I’d lose my lunch, Beth drove up behind me, and my focus shifted. The shaking didn’t stop, but I had a job to do. I do well with responsibility.

Minutes later, I was summoning all the graciousness, elegance and strength I could, shaking the hand of one of the few people in this world I despise.  As he unlocked the door to the church and held it open, we stepped through. He directed us into the basement where the reception would be held, and left.

As we made our way down the stairs, Beth’s careful words comforted to me, “How does this feel for you, Melissa?” Even in her time of sorrow, she was a true friend.

“I’m ok, actually…I am…But wow…I’m here…And I’m ok.”

The words were disjointed, and but they were true. They were finally true. I wasn’t just saying them for her sake. I wasn’t having a panic attack (something that even in recent years would have happened). I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t overwhelmed by horrific memories. All the effort and focus and work I had put into facing my traumas had actually been effective. I am quite sure that part of what gave me the strength to walk through those doors, though, was the real purpose of my visit. We weren’t in the church building to face it. We were there to celebrate the life of someone who had not only overcome the obstructions that people had actively placed in his path, he had conquered them.

George had crawled over the massive pile of “shit” that people had tried to squelch him with, to become a man who had accomplished more than most people do in a lifetime. For me personally, while I hate that he’s gone, if we had to say goodbye to one of ours in that building, I am thrilled that it was someone who WON. I’m glad that the one who is representing us didn’t self-destruct in a puddle of self-pity and pain. He had a dream and single-mindedly – single-handedly – made it happen.  His accomplishments give some sort of vindication for those of us who have fought to stand and thrive. He proved that the past had no control over him. His commitment to and the resulting fulfillment of his dreams prove that just because we were taught that we were nothing without the church, that we would fail if we didn’t rely on its teachings, that we were inherently worthless were WRONG. My abusers were plain wrong.

Thank you, George, for giving me such an amazing gift, you have inspired me to follow the truth that I historically I have been afraid to follow. I wish I had known you as an adult, but even with the sadness of your passing, your life will continue to touch people.  Thank you for giving me the opportunity to follow your example and say, “I will conquer. I HAVE conquered – now I will SOAR.”

RIP George Mellone, III. I promise to continue your legacy of stretching the rules, of following my heart, and of touching people all along the way!

Reality is, I’m cheap…..and addicted to “finds.” My creative juices start flowing when I see some random, crazy, cool print at a thrift shop even if it’s a mumu. Yes, a mumu. Those deliciously comfortable pieces that my grandmothers and their mothers wore. Those dresses that are forever a synonym with “homely” and “dead in the sack” (did I just say that???).  Anyway, it’s rare that I’ll turn down a find simply because it seems unflattering. For $2.50, I can almost always make something work…and if I can’t figure it out? What’s the big deal, I didn’t spend $100, right?

I’ve been doing this for ages, but after a friend of mine expressed very strong doubt that I could actually look good in a mumu – I just had to post my latest. So there.

Sexy, no???? No.

Much better! I simply shortened the length (didn't even hem it since this material doesn't fray), and used the remnant as a belt. Now I even LOVE the neckline.

No joke. I simply shortened it. I sometimes need to use my sewing machine to make things a little more fitted (as I’m itty-bitty), but more often then not a simple cinching of the waist makes things work.  If you find a mumu that you like, just be sure that the material is light enough to fall well.  Heavier fabrics tend to be bulky, so “cinching” just creates a heavier bulk.  Here’s another example of a $1.99 shirt that I used a $1 belt to shape.

Old Grandma shirt from the Goodwill

The entire outfit (minus the shoes and earrings but with the necklace) cost me a total of $11. The shoes I got at Nordstroms on sale for $40no idea where the earrings came from!

I found the jeans at Ross for $6.99 – and they’re Joe’s! I couldn’t resist…underneath the jeans I’m wearing the same tights as in the mumu photos – again a Ross find on clearance for $4.00.

My biggest thing is to mix more high quality, trendy, modern pieces with the thrift store finds.  I often times print out finds from the internet, or cut out photos from fashion magazines and take them with me to the thrift stores.  It seems that if I have something in mind it’s easier to sift through all the stinky, dirty, crappy stuff and find those statement pieces that no one else has!

So what do you guys think…are you as interested in my fashion finds as my food creations???

With that said, I DID host an absolutely fantabulous, even if scaled-down, Easter Egg Decorating party last week.  It was a little more fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants than my usual shin-digs, but all in all, it turned out pretty darn good.  Next year, I MUST remember to plan the number of hidden eggs better…not because we lost any, but because kiddos don’t like being told they get 6 eggs, when in reality there was only enough for 4. Lesson learned.

I had an absolute blast with the decor for this party.  With a smaller number of people coming, I was able to focus more on details in presentation than just needing “space” for larger quantities of food!

The dessert table: rescued shutters have become my favorite backdrop (connected by scrapbook papers), ruffled streamers (they ruffle when you run them through a sewing machine set to high tension), flowers, stumps, coffee filter flowers....AAAAH, I love it.

Carrots added such a cool, fun, unique touch to this basic arrangement

Take a closer look at that "vase". It's actually a $5 lampshade from IKEA - with an ugly jar inserted to hold the flowers

The display on the appetizer table: Black Walnut stumps, daffodils from the garden, shutters, crepe paper garland and just general chaos. I love it.

The food itself was fun to prepare too…I did sandwiches, fruits, etc (I didn’t snap a photo of the finished appetizer table), but I mostly concentrated on the desserts, which turned out spectacularly.  The sugar crash that Ellie had at the end of the night was certainly a bit more than I had bargained for, but even so, I’m not sure I’d change things.

Peeps Sunflower Chocolate Cake

Cinnabon Cake, covered with fondant. Gum Paste Daffodils

Gum paste flowers; I cut the leaves free handedly, and painted them with Sage Green Gel Food Coloring

Gum Paste Daffodils and Grass

Carrot Rice Crispy Treats...I shaped the treats into the tear drops, rolled them in orange sprinkles, then colored the picks overnight in food coloring.

Rice Crispy treats cut out as eggs, Sugar and ChocolateChip Cookie Baskets (I bought the rabbits), various jelly beans in coffee filter flowers

Sugar Cookies in Coffee Filter "Plates"

I used the water from these bottles to make the iced tea, and the kiddos used paper straws to sip their pink lemonade

I love the look of the paper straws and reused soda water bottles!

Of all the things I managed to screw up....the mac and cheese?!?!

Of course we can’t forget the actual “art” part of this whole thing.  I bought eight end tables from IKEA (for $7.99 each), duct taped them together and put a plastic table cloth over the top.  I discovered in all this insanity that foam board absorbs moisture amazingly well, so the dyes were all placed on top of a “runner” of foam board.  It helped with the left over mess – A LOT! I pre-dyed most of the eggs (with neon food coloring and vinegar), leaving enough for 2 eggs for each child to dye themselves (it saved a whole lot of angst, I think). As guests arrived, they were invited to decorate their paper bunnies with glitter, cotton balls and marker pens. The three tiered stands helped keep things organized (I found them at TJ Maxx for $14.99 a piece…one of my best bargains ever!).

As mentioned in the previous post, I made these egg holders for keeping tabs on drying eggs

Parents helped their kiddos out, and I think fun was had by all

Each child had a personalized apron to keep their party clothes clean (I used fabric paint on aprons from Oriental Trading)

Ready for the taking!

With the weather being so crappy this time of year, Easter is almost always indoors (we do live in Oregon after all!), so we had to figure out some activities to keep a bunch of 3 – 4 year olds busy.  We pushed furniture in th eliving room aside and set up several “stations” – blocks, kitchens, Nerf guns (yes, against my better judgment), and Mom’s Easter bean bag toss!

I get my creativity from somewhere (she used a big cardboard box, foam board, felt for the bean bags and egg shapes, and her own amazing talent for the bunny)!

Living room turned "playroom"

All in all we had a fantastic time. Of course, I couldn’t have done it without my little helper – Ellie Graye.  She has so much passion, creativity, and willingness to help and learn, it’s just spectacular.  I’m a proud mommy!

My helper carefully selecting the right Jelly Beans....

Tah-Dah!

All in all, the party was a smashing success! I mean, look at these faces!

(Left to Right, Back to Front) Adam, Jackson, Ellie, Daphne, Penelope, Leah, Jaden, Eamon, Holly, Chloie, Preston, Kellan