Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Easter 2012

So . . . after our Easter egg hunt on Good Friday, we headed south to Mom's on Friday night.  With R's dad's health issues, we hadn't been there as a family since Thanksgiving so it was nice to get back to visit. 

Saturday we just hung out, visited, hung out of windows to let mom's awning's down . . . normal stuff.  :)  We also grilled out for dinner . . . steaks and ribs.  Yum-my!

The camera finally came out of the bag Saturday night when we dyed eggs.  We tried it for the first time last year - and it was successful - but this year they both got into it. 




Annnnnnd . . . Hudson's done.


                                      
The purple egg on the right is the result of mixing all the colors together.  Someone I knew {although I can't for the life of me remember who!!!} did this and I always thought it was cool, so we started the tradition this year. 
The orange egg shows what happens when eggs roll off the table.  :)

 Around rolls Sunday morning and G was on the hunt for his basket:

This ADORABLE idea came from one of Aunt Shannon's friends.  The Easter Bunny is a crazy, crazy guy.  He decided it would be fun to hide the boys' baskets and make them hunt for them.  And the best part?  As he was hopping {since that's what bunnies do} to hide the baskets, a little bit of grass fell out with every hop.  Last year G totally didn't get it, but this year he was sooooo into it!  {And thanks again, Aunt Shannon, for reminding me of this.  And solving the mystery as to why we had 2 different colors of grass in the first place.} :)




Trying out both straws.  Simultaneously.

Since Hudson slept up in our room, G helped him follow his trail.


It was so cute - H made sure to put his toes on each pile.

That crazy Easter Bunny!!


Then it was outside to hunt for the eggs.








H wasn't having it.  Granted, it was quite chilly.  And the poor child had no shoes on.  Someone call DSS for the pitiful little guy, please.


After church I thought it would be cute to get some pictures with their baskets.  Judging by the following {and the numerous I didn't include}, it obviously was easier said than done.  Memories, right?





I heart them.

And I heart the big one, too.


 

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