Easter is one of those "no-sleep" holidays. Which automatically makes me add a level of dread to the whole event. Since I have to get up at the crack of dawn daily to get the tweenager to zero period, weekends and holidays are sacred; I'd like to sleep in until 8 a.m. if at all possible.
Easter Eve also has the added stress of having to stay up long enough to ensure that all children are assuredly asleep, so that I can play Easter Bunny without getting caught. The no-sleep element makes it all that much harder to deal with the sugar-induced added bickery that is sprinkled atop the usual sibling bickery. I am told that one day I will miss all of this. I need more convincing.
This year is especially fun because I'm still stuffy, my son is still sick and my husband has locked himself in the office, desperately attempting to finish up the taxes. I think that's code for "I'm busy until your mother goes home" but I'll take the high road and figure that he just doesn't want to file an extension.
And the only basket the Easter Bunny had in store for me this year was a basket case.
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