Easter schmeaster

Today we actually went to a kiddy Birthday fiesta turned an Easter egg hunt. With the oxygen in tow, but nonetheless.

Too bad for the Babe this is the closest she ever made it to any of the sweet chocolate hiding in the eggs:

If you look closely you can actually see she's holding a yellow easter egg. I swear.

It was nice to get out of the house a little bit, see some friends, verbally relive the horror that was the hospitalization, discreetly down a couple of white wine spritzers meant (a huge honkin' canister - I choose my crowd wisely, you see) for the exhausted ones, and it seemed like the Babe was totally into seeing the other kids color eggs, hunt for some in the grass, and then maniacally either cry or run circles around everyone and their shadows on one mother of a sugar high. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself about the Babe. To relieve my fear that I just might be bringing up a little princess completely in love with her own face in the mirror (she's began giving herself open-mouth kisses in the mirror when ever she has the chance). Buuut... In fact, she's just kissing her best friend. Another baby. Yup. Uhhuh. Yes.

I really must find a playgroup right away. Preferably one with white wine spritzer. But I'll take one with tequila if necessary.

Easter, people!