Where's the Bunny?

Easter Sunday was a busy day this year. We started the day by digging into the Biscuit's Easter basket full of candy and toys. I knew it wasn't a great idea to let him have a little crunchy chocolate bunny before church, but how could I refuse it when I had just given it to him in his basket? So he ate the bunny.

Then we got dressed up and headed off to Easter Mass. Church started a little bit later than usual and ran a little bit longer than usual, but the Biscuit was faring very well (his new dinosaur coloring book was a big help with that).

After church, we headed over to the Biscuit's Starenka (that's Grandma) and Grandpa's for Easter lunch. As lunch drew to a close, the Biscuit learned that the Easter Bunny had also visited his Starenka's house and had left him another basket and some other gifts (one of which was a toddler-sized Thomas the Tank Engine bed... maybe a story for another post). In addition to the gifts in the basket and the bed, the Easter Bunny also left the Biscuit a 12-inch, solid chocolate bunny. The Biscuit was enamored instantly.

Being the silly mommy that I am, I decided that this was the right time to take Easter pictures. Please remember that my almost 3-year old had been up all morning, sat through church, lunch, and had just gotten chocolate and toys... pictures were the last thing he wanted to do. Somehow, though, the Biscuit's Starenka managed to convince him to go outside and take some (pretty terrible) Easter pictures.

It was now almost 1:00 pm and the Biscuit was cranky and well beyond nap time so the Biscuit and I packed up the car so we could head home. The Biscuit was given a small taste of his huge chocolate Easter Bunny (the left ear to be exact) and the rest of the bunny was put in a baggie to save for later. The Biscuit insisted on carrying the bunny in the bag along with his companion monkey lovie (that he calls Ou Ah, as in "ou ou ah ah" sound a monkey makes) and an M&M man. I put him in his car seat, started down the road, and within about 2 minutes, he was out like a light (holding tight to his chocolate possessions).

When we got home, the Biscuit was still fast asleep. I carried him into his bedroom and put him down for a nap. The Biscuit peeped his eyes open for a minute, spoke a weak "I'm tired," closed his eyes, and put his head back on my shoulder. I left his room and then went to change clothes when I heard some rustling in the kitchen.

I walked into the kitchen where I was surprised to see the Biscuit (whose back was to me) putting something in the trash can under the sink. I said to him, "What are you doing?"

"I had some trash from the bunny." he replied. I went over to the trash and saw that he had put a small (and I mean small) piece of chocolate bunny in the trash.

"Where's the Bunny?" I asked the Biscuit.

He smiled sheepishly and said, "He's in my mouth."

I walked briskly to the Biscuit's room expecting to find a mess of chocolate everywhere, but there was none to be found. All that I saw was an empty baggie in the middle of his bed.

I had been duped. The Biscuit had it all planned the moment he got in the car seat. That bunny didn't stand a chance... 12-inches of solid chocolate, gulped down in 5 minutes.

Thanks Easter Bunny! (bock bock)

Like Fingernails on a Chalkboard

I am NOT a morning person. I am fully capable of sleeping in until 3:00 pm if left undisturbed. There is absolutely nothing finer in life to me than to sleep in on a Saturday until I just can't take it anymore and force myself to roll out of bed. I have not, however, slept in on a Saturday morning for the last 3 years (coincidentally, since the Biscuit was born).

Now, when I decided to have a baby, this was one of the things I knew I would give up, and I was glad to do it. I didn't realize how much I would truly miss it though. And, honestly, I think I am not as nice of a person as I used to be because of it.

And so our story begins at 6:30 AM on a Saturday morning...

"Maaa-om!" says the Biscuit lovingly.
"Whaa-aaat?" I reply.
"Mom. My car won't fit under here," he says.
"Sorry," I reply.

6:31 AM that same Saturday morning...

"Maaaa-om!" he shouts again.
"Yes, love" I say, though my patience is beginning to wear thin.
"Mom. Did you move my candy?" the Biscuit asks as if this is an important question for this early in the morning.
"No, love. I didn't move your candy. You ate it." I respond.
"My sweet-tar-tarts?" he stammers.
"Yes, love. You ate your sweetarts last night. Let's not talk for a little while, okay?" I beg.

6:32 again, the same Saturday morning...

"Maaaa-ooom. Did you touch my cars." the Biscuit asks.
"Biscuit. Mommy doesn't want to talk anymore this morning." I demand.
"But Maaaaaa-om!" he screams.
"Yes, I'm coming." I say.

Arrrrrggg.