Easter was our first official holiday ever hosted at our house. Don’t get me wrong, we have my husband’s large family over for get togethers all the time, I’ve had my family over for Christmas Eve but never have we done a true holiday. Those are typically hosted by our Moms, as they know what they’re doing. And I will say this, I suddenly have a new found respect for every single holiday meal our moms have put on. They make it seem seamless, as if the mounds of delicious food appear from nowhere, the house perfectly cleaned and decorated. When in reality, holy crap! It’s a ton of work and lets not even discuss the huge disarray your home is in, that you just spent two weeks fine tuning for said event.
We planned a menu of ham, relief society potatoes (otherwise known as funeral potatoes), sweet potatoes and salad. I grew grass for a centerpiece, scoped out fabric for a table cloth and plotted out how we were to fit 16 people in our dining room.
Meanwhile, I completely overlooked the entire Easter activities that are supposed to happen with a child. You know ,the Easter Bunny, egg dyeing, those shenanigans? Luckily the grandparents took more than great care of the Easter Bunny situation and my in-laws supplied eggs and dyeing supplies.
Egg dyeing was one of the most stressful activities of my life. Gwen was an impatient maniac and discovered grabbing the eggs from the dye in a frantic fashion was the best method. This was all fine and dandy until she realized what her hands looked like. The minute she saw that dye on her hands the party was over. It was a rush to google how to get dye off skin and then a quick scrub with baking soda to get it off.