Eggs-celent!

Sadly, I'm not what you might call a crafty mom. Part of it is lack of interest - I just can't get very excited about doing crafty things (which is why Tessa's baby book is only about halfway done and yes, I'm aware that she's almost 3). Part of it, I'm convinced, is that I had two boys before having a girl. The boys weren't interested in crafty things at all - no coloring, no stickers, no play dough, no painting, no nothing. They were all about developing their gross motor skills. Tessa is more of a crafty girl; I'm sure I don't challenge her enough in this area. She will literally sit and paste stickers in a spiral notebook that she calls her "scrapbook" for an hour at a time if I let her. We've discovered that this works wonders for getting us through church, even though we may go bankrupt from buying all the stickers that she uses. Buying stock in Hobby Lobby right now might not be a bad idea.

Today, however, the kids were all gung-ho to dye and decorate Easter eggs. Last night I hard-boiled a dozen eggs (only 99 cents) and this afternoon we got down to business. I actually bought the decorating kit before last Easter but we never got around to dyeing the eggs, so I pulled it out today. They each got to decorate 4 eggs. They enjoyed the actual dyeing process - with all the dipping and such it was kind of messy, after all. But once the eggs dried and we were ready to decorate with stickers and egg jackets, the boys lost interest. "I think the color is enough decoration", Henry said after half-heartedly pasting a tiny football sticker on an egg. "Yeah, mine look good too", parroted William. And off they went to play outside. Tessa lasted a little longer, but she lost interest as well. Sigh. At least we tried. Maybe next year we'll attempt a tree made of plastic eggs or something equally ambitious. We must pace ourselves, after all.

Anyway, here are the results of our attempts at craftiness:

As a postscript, here is what Henry decided to do to his Easter Basket:

Why, you may ask, would he write, in permanent marker, on the front of the cute little Easter basket that he has had since he was very, very small? He was worried that the Easter Bunny wouldn't be able to tell the difference between his and William's baskets since they were identical. Apparently the small letter H that I put on the handle of his wasn't enough. And of course, in the interest of thoroughness, he wrote a big, fat William on the front of his brother's basket. But the funniest thing was that, when confronted with my obvious displeasure over this development, he replied, "Well, you know, Mom, bunnies aren't the smartest animals."

I'll let you fill in your favorite response to that little gem at your leisure. There are too many good ones to choose from.