Life has a funny way of making unexpected occurrences turn into the best memories. Like when playing ball in the backyard after a rain turns into a mud fight. Or when washing dishes turns into a sprinkler feud in the kitchen. And of course, there’s the time that making cookies turned into a sweet floury disaster all over the counters and floors. Normal everyday chores suddenly become amazing experiences that the kids continue to talk about for days.
I plan special traditions with my kids knowing in the back of my mind they will never turn out as planned, but still, I like to hold out hope that they will be executed flawlessly. Our usual Easter traditions often include dying eggs. This endeavor is intended to be slightly messy. I mean who would expect three little boys to not make a little mess when dying eggs right?
We boiled our eggs and chose our colors. With my kids, we always use the whipped cream and food coloring method for dying eggs. That way it’s edible because we all know they’re gonna stick it in their mouths regardless of what we tell them.
The sheet is laid across the floor, the colors are all mixed up, and the eggs are cooked. The ONLY thing these boys have left to do is simply put the egg in the colors and roll it around. Easy enough right? WRONG! Once again Becca has planned this beautiful, laid-back activity and these little rascals straight-up turned it into Death Con 3. One accidental slip of a whipped cream-covered egg into a lap turned into a retaliation food fight. Whipped cream is now flying across the room. The tv takes the backlash from a pink grenade launched towards a head. The couches are catching remnants of purples and blues and yellow explosions.
The eggs are left forgotten in the pot, as no one even cares about the original assignment now. Daddy’s face looks like a rainbow unicorn took a poop on it. Mac’s entire body looks as if he rolled around in a paint tray, and my hair has a scary mixture of goopy-colored globs everywhere.
The previously cleaned living room is now the aftermath of Rainbow Whipped Cream War ’22 and all of us have now been dyed bright easter colors. The remaining eggs quickly get dipped into what little coloring is left and now that the fun has run out, the whining begins. Cooper doesn’t like it on his face, Hudson has it on his belly, and Mac now has it in his eyes. Daddy takes the boys for a third bath of the day, while I begin the reconstruction of the war zone. Couches get wiped off, the tv swiped clean, a quick mop over the floor, a washer full of towels, and a sink rinse for the dishes. After their bath, the water left behind was a sickly green color but the boys were now sparkly clean again.
During this entire experience, I of course was stressing out about how once again things were not going as planned and the house was going to be permantely damaged or the kids would be multi-colored for our Easter pictures the next day. Once everything had been cleaned up and life was temporarily back to normal (as normal as it gets around here anyway) I was able to look back at these pictures and realize that even though we got messy and plans didn’t go as intended, the kids still had pure joy on their faces. When they toddle their little selves back into school on Monday, I know that while other kids are talking about hunting easter eggs, my kids are going to be telling about how they threw colorful whipped cream from one end of the house to the other.
These are the messy and chaotic moments that I truly love to embrace. These are the memories that my kids will one day tell their kids. And hopefully, these are the days that make them one day look back and say “my mom is so cool.”
PS. The eggs turned out okay too
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