For the Love of a Colored Egg

I hate dying Easter Eggs.  HATE.  Despise.  I have strong disliking of....

But it's one of those things that a "good mother" should do.  So every year I pull out the vinegar, the PAAS cups, the little bunny shaped egg scoopers, and let the girls go at it.  Thankfully this year I had Becca to help with the process which made it much smoother.

What was interesting to watch was the style that the girls used to color eggs was very much like their little personalities.  Lilli likes everything to be done now, and likes to claim everything as her own.  Therefore, most of her eggs hardly have any color on them as they were in and out of the color baths so fast, and EACH ONE has her name written on it with the wax crayon....all 18.  Abigail moved nice and slow, takes her time, and her eggs took long dips and came out bright and vibrant colors.  (And I just WAY over thought the Easter Egg Coloring process....wow....)

Now the question is, what do we do with 32 colored eggs?

Umm...yeah, my walls are different colors....still trying to plan out what to do with them...

Gotta make sure each egg has my name on it!

Sisterly Love

There are times where Lilli and Abbi do not get along.  At all.  I mean like black and white.  Sweet and Sour.  USA and Afghanistan.  It makes me (somewhat) regret that they were born 363 days apart. 

And then there are those brief moments of pure bliss and happiness.  Segments of time when they happily play for hours, when they take turns, when you can hear little bits of "It's your turn to have the crown first."  It makes my heart melt.

Abigail can play independent.  She disappears into her world of make-believe with long stories about her dolls and horses and fairies that fly in and save the day.  Lilli needs demands almost constant one on one attention.  She wants you to sit there, not necessarily to interact, just to be present.

I often wonder how close they will be to each other as they get older.  They have never gone to a school apart from the other one since Abigail was born.  They are even in the same Sunday School class.  There are days that Lilli still holds Abbi's hand as they walk into St. Emily's.  The big sister.  The protector.  The one who is most likely to turn around and bop her on the head if she doesn't agree.

It's an interesting journey, one that keeps me on my toes, one that makes me appreciate the moments like the one below....just two best friends, two sisters, together forever....