I would consider myself a fairly craft person, but I know my limits and I am not that fun mom that pulls out the dye and lets the kids go crazy dying eggs. It’s far too stressful and chaotic. However – I’m a huge fan of using markers to decorate eggs – and I’m a bigger fan of decorating wooden eggs that stay cute for years to come!
Here’s what you need:
I found 2 1/2″ wooden eggs on amazon (here), some leftover Rustoleum stain in classic gray and the same Sharpie oil-based paint markers (here).
Stain your eggs your desired color and let dry completely. Using the paint markers, go to town making all sorts of fun designs. I found that on some areas of the egg, the paint really seeped into the egg and I had to go over it a couple times to make it pop. I’m assuming if you sealed the eggs after staining you wouldn’t run into this problem.
You could also paint the eggs white and use fun color sharpie markers to decorate them. Either way – the kids (and moms) will stay entertained for a while!
Easter Sunday was uplifting and quiet. Not quiet like the way you would normally assume – I’ve got 5 kids and we met up with extended family. The volume of the noise was definitely not quiet. But it was a reflective day and even during the evening, as the sun tucked behind the horizon, I watched the kids play with their cousins and continue to explore their newly found eggs, I was quiet. I was in my “thin place” as I observed all that was going on around me but didn’t feel the need to participate or be in conversation to enjoy it.
I am grateful for those quiet moments in a loud world. I am grateful for Easter and all that we’ve studied as a family as we prepared for this special holiday. I’m grateful for my Savior and His atoning sacrifice for all my shortcomings and fears and worries…and everything else I’m willing to unload on Him. It’s been a good week and Sunday was the culmination of it all.
These kids are learning that the faster they smile and take a nice picture, the sooner they can run off and play. It’s taken a while to get to this point and Briggs is still learning the ropes.
Steve’s brother and sister-in-law have hosted Easter for years and I’m so happy every year that they’re willing to do it again. They make it nice and elegant (which can be hard for a crowd our size) and the setting always fosters great conversations. Whether they be lighthearted and laughing or personal and introspective. I usually get pictures of all the tables – this year I got this shot. Hallie has made it to the older kids table and she played it cool – and didn’t spill anything! 😉
Briggs found an egg, yep – only one! Once he found that egg and shook it he realized it contained candy. There was no convincing him of hunting eggs after that. He was happy with the candy in his hand.
We’re happy to have Steve’s parents home from another mission in Africa. Here are some of the grandkids – including two “grandkids” that married into the family and one great grandbaby.
We had our annual Ridge Run neighborhood party last weekend and the weather cooperated beautifully. This annual event always coincides with Easter so when Easter is later in the year we’re fighting the heat. We biked/ran/walked the three miles and yet I don’t have proof of it. We ate a delicious breakfast – and again no proof. But the egg hunt – yep – I got plenty of pictures!
Okay – so this is the last Easter post, I promise. As I was going through pictures from our Easter dinner, I came across the picture of Briggs in his basket.
He had been grumpy and crying the whole evening and then we squeezed him into his basket and immediately he was all smiles and giggling. Funny kid.
I went back and found his picture from last year in the same exact basket in the same exact lawn. He’s a little bigger than he was last year. It’s amazing the difference a year can make for him…and for me.
I’m pretty sure this is the last year I’ll be able to squeeze him in there which makes this the last Easter I’m squeezing any child in a basket. Not sure why I ever started doing this – I suppose Hunter was just the right size on his first Easter and somehow that created a tradition. Poor Hallie – she didn’t even have a basket until Hunter was born – we’re lucky we even have pictures. I think most people start off taking the most pictures of their first child and then trail off. I’m the opposite. I’m hitting my groove with child #5 and he’s going to be the most documented out of all of them.