Like so many other Christians, our family celebrated Easter this past weekend. We colored eggs, hunted for baskets, sought out candy-filled plastic eggs, went to church, and had a family dinner. For the most part, our celebrations were like any other…which was kind of nice.
I hard-boiled our eggs on Friday morning. My strategy was to hard-boil them and put them in the fridge before Tate’s therapy. I hoped Jake would forget about them. See, between Jake’s current egg addiction and his eating like it’s going out of style, I was afraid we’d have 3 eggs left to decorate and a very sick kid. Luckily, my plan worked well.
We dyed said eggs on Saturday morning so that Hubz could
join the fun help control the chaos. Tate really took an interest in egg dyeing. That is, he took interest in the color PINK and didn’t want to share it. If either of his brothers tried it, he would shriek and “shoo” them away. Also, he wanted big red 8’s drawn on his eggs…so, if one would go into our fridge, s/he would be greeted by no less than 6 pink eggs with big red 8’s drawn with crayon. (I guess I should be relieved that he didn’t want 6’s. Me thinks it’s a bad omen to have “666” lined up twice in your EASTER egg carton!)
Saturday flew by, as I
escaped went dress shopping. My PSA of the month is not Autism related, no. It is that if you are 7-10 pounds heavier than you would like to be, and you still haven’t made good on your exercising resolution, then for the love of all things holy do NOT go clothes shopping. Don’t! Oh, and anyone notice that this year’s styles are NOT made for the short of stature. Bleh.
Having felt guilty for leaving Hubz with the 3 musketeers for 2 hours, I came home, got the boys, and took them grocery shopping. I picked a fairly quiet time at the store, which made my boys’ rowdiness that much more ridiculous. Jake was begging–incessantly–for more Pokemon cards. Tate was complaining that I didn’t get him pizza. Cole was running around “bamming” everything. It was a fantastic shopping trip.
Once the boys were in bed that night, I became the Easter Bunny. I hid the eggs, wrote clues for finding baskets, and finished cleaning up after my
slobs children. I am amazed by the things I accomplish when I put my phone away and have no children to attend to!
Jake awoke nice and early on Easter Sunday. We were downstairs hunting eggs and baskets by 6:00. Oh.Yay. Tate studied his brothers as they flitted about gathering eggs. He decided that he could do it, too, and found a few eggs. He spent the next 10 minutes showing off his 4 eggs. To anyone who would listen, or, well, look in his general direction.
The boys found their baskets and began to dig into the candy. Of course. Nothing like a healthy breakfast of jelly beans and mini-candy bars! Mmmm.
In all of the excitement, Tate refused to drink his juice. This is not regular juice. Uh-uh. It is his Vyvanse cocktail…and he needs it to help focus and attend. But, after half of it was gulped down begrudgingly, he threw it away. Gaaahhhh!
At 7:35, Hubz and I got the boys ready for Mass. We decided to attend the earlier one at 8, thinking it would be less busy, and a little easier for Tate. Oh, how wrong we were. Apparently everyone thought the same thing. It was crazy-busy. Standing-room-only busy. Not so good for us…especially not for Tate.
As we stood around in the hallway, deciding whether to stay or come back later, Tate announced–very loudly–that we needed chairs. Because, well, how many freaking times have we told him that we sit down when we’re at Mass??! Ughhh. He started to get anxious, flipping his stick and fidgeting with his waistband…and then, it was an Easter miracle…some chairs were set up and 2 were open, together. We sat down. Tate relaxed. So did we. Ahhh. We made it through Mass with only some minor stims and vocal outbursts.
We were able to go home and relax a bit. Tate shed his dress shirt and pants like they were on fire. He happily put on a t-shirt and comfy pants. When he did this, Cole demanded to walk around pants-less, and Jake asked if he could wear a t-shirt. I obliged…but did make Cole wear pants to my sister’s house for dinner.
During our time at home, Hubz downloaded an app that measures the sound in your room. Um, I think OSHA is gonna come bust us. A half-medicated, sugared-up Tate produces screeches and shrieks that top out at 100. (Hubz said that 125 is dangerous..and should only have like 15 minutes of exposure at a time.) That’s just him. Factor in his brothers, and, well, I could really use a pair of noise-cancelling headphones for Mother’s Day. I’m just sayin’…
At noon we headed over to my sister’s house. Tate babbled the entire way there about her kitchen sink. It’s one of his favorites, and it helps him manage his social anxiety. (The running water soothes him.) He literally bolted from the car when we opened the door. He barely said hello before asking for the water. My sister was able to let him use it, and life was good.
Our gathering went well, and the boys, and we adults, had fun. Tate interacted a bit, and was successful in his bids for the kitchen sink and watching my sister’s front-loading washer and dryer. Jake got to watch tv at my sister’s house, which made him happy. Cole had the attention of all of the adults.
Our evening ended on a good note, as all 3 boys went to sleep fairly easily–and early. Hubz and I got to watch Game of Thrones AND Mythbusters, and we were in bed by 10. Ahhhh….and to all, a good night. (Oh wait…that’s a different holiday…right?!)