A couple months ago, while Peter was busy preparing a hefty amount of Alaskan salmon using his very own cold smoking contraption, I was making some Easter plans.
Emails were going around from my Ellis friends - everyone would be in town - Missy was organizing a swank get together - I had to be there; Peter alerted me that the Cubs were playing the Buccos in Pittsburgh on Easter Monday - the season opener for both teams - suddenly, my parents hooked us up with some sweet seats behind the dug out - we had to go; The Golf Club's brunch, vichyssoise, creamed spinach, eggs Benedict and all sounded better than ever; the sweet pink outfits that I opened at my shower would be perfect for Mary's first encounter with the Easter bunny; and I envisioned I would need a newly minted Mom getaway. I verbalized our plans; newborn and all, we'd be celebrating Easter in the Burgh. Anybody that doubted it got a 'poo poo' from me. Peter penciled it in and vacuum sealed the smoked salmon for a special occasion to come.
That was two months ago. And that was the clueless expectant Mom in me talking. Clearly, babies that are two and a half weeks old don't travel well and neither do their exhausted parents. As I woke up at 2:40 this morning to Mary's hungry cry, wishing her a happy Easter through my sleepy haze, I chuckled at the unrealistic expectations I had set for our little family.
Given a lack of immunity, a reservation for more milk every other hour, naps, and a myriad of diaper and costume changes, our Easter - Mary's first Easter was spent at home. We let the neighbors take care of the egg hunting, we missed the cousins, Aunt Claire and Uncle Trent, we cut our Easter parade short, and we all gave in to an afternoon snooze on this beautiful Midwestern day. But I've got to say, it was a great little Easter.
Mary still met a bunny.
With the help of Mimi and Opa, Mommy and Daddy got to a beautiful morning Mass at St. Francis.
And obviously, there was brunch. The works: homemade bialys, house-smoked salmon, fruit salad, deviled eggs, champagne, and the head of my Godiva bunny for dessert.
With a more realistic perspective on motherhood, I'm pretty sure that planning over the next couple months will have to be a little more fluid and flexible. I'm just glad that back in January, Peter planned ahead a little better than me.
Lo.
