hectic preps, self appointed charger-sharing, translations, & Mikes

This neon yellow charger
is not mine. 
I use it.
 BECAUSE
I have no idea
what happened to
my charger. 
#lifewithlad

When to host the Easter gathering?  Sister/sister in law preferred Saturday late afternoon- thanks to one having a little guy under two.  If they headed straight from her side's get-together Sunday, he would be toast.  So:  Saturday. I hoped not do a 2nd party Sunday.  Besides, Coach's folks do not  drive in the dark, so maybe they'd bolt early-ish Saturday - a potential added bonus.

I had my heart set on one Easter party (Saturday checked that box) followed by one day of relaxing with just my kiddos/Coach.  Lad would be in town (and I swore not to be overly upset when he unplugged everyone's devices to plug in his own- WHY DOES HE NOT OWN HIS OWN CHARGER?!).  My side was congregating at Marie's house in Milwaukee on Sunday.  None of us really wanted to drive there - even though it is only like an hour and a half away.

I made Irish soda bread, too.
  Not sure why I have no
 pics of lasagna.  Soda
bread doesn't really go
with lasagna, but what the heck.

Maybe my family wouldn't realize I was hosting Saturday.  I slipped up telling Mom I was bummed that Tank (aka the life of the party) had a newly scheduled volleyball tournament all damn day Saturday.  Translation:  he might miss most of my Shenanigan-side Easter party.  Well, Mom now knew we were available Sunday, but she didn't ask why I wasn't going to schlep my gang up to Milwaukee.  I refused to entertain feelings of guilt.  So, all systems were go . . .


The menu:  lasagna - very labor intensive, but a huge hit.  I stayed up super late to prepare it in advance so I could watch Mini play badminton Saturday in a tournament near our house.  Tank's volleyball was far from home.  Tuned out he didn't come home until after 5 pm and Mini till 2:55 - party was at 3:00!

It is not always easy to follow a birdie
on the opposite side of the gym.

Saturday:  Coach worked till noon.  Lad and Ed caddied.  Reg tried to caddy, but he didn't get a loop.  When Lad was done caddying (hours earlier than Ed), he faked that he was going to check out the badminton tournie, but opted to workout - until Coach saw him (his work is attached to the health club) and busted him.  Then Lad raced to the tournie (with a charged phone at least).  Translation:  anything to avoid helping me when I get in my oh-shit-they-are-coming-in-2-hours-and-the-house-is-a-mess mode.  I watched a bit of badminton in the morning after my workout class.

Easter brunch with our gang -
apple puff pancake
 plus egg casserole.
 And time to not have to
rush to Milwaukee. 
Priceless. 

Curly was home.  With me.  Except for when I was watching birdies.  Then, I was calling Curly instructing her on how to put the tablecloth in the dryer, and reminding her of favors/chores I assigned her.  Translation:  my youngest, do-gooder, Mommy-pleaser (she STILL cares)  had to pitch in more than anyone else.

When I got home, I decided it would be GREAT to clean the house ALONE.  Is it just me, or do you sometimes expel more energy instructing servants, slobs-who-make-the-messes, offspring about what you would want them to do vs just doing it yourself?

Me texting a friend who I just saw at badminton:  'Is it OK if I drop Curly off to play with her BFF at your house?'  Everyone needs a friend that you can call and invite your kids to their house.  Friend: 'Sure!'  Me:  'Lil orphan Annie thanks you.'  An unexpected play-date on a clean-the-house day was a huge hit.  Curly:  'SERIOUSLY?'  But I didn't clean the kitchen sink yet.'  Please don't judge me.

Realizing that I needed an Easter-esque meal to serve my kids/Coach Sunday, I whipped up an egg dish.  They're now requesting it weekly.  Mini:  'No, daily!'  Me:  'Do not hold your breath, children.'

Sweet, sweet Mike's.

By the time people arrived Saturday, I was EXHAUSTED.  All these Easter posts to say that food was good, and my in-laws were on their best behavior.  I did hear my extremely right-wing, republican father-in-law turn to my bro-in-law and ask him 'You're a democrat, right?'  No translation necessary about how socially unacceptable that is, right.?

I swore to myself that I would bust up any politically charged, or religious-themed conversation, but after 3 Mike's Hard Lemonades - when I am more of a 1 drink kind of gal - I felt blissful enough to ignore it.