Easter coffee: after weeks and weeks of black java, that first mug yesterday morning with flavored creamer was delightfully decadent.  I bought two small jugs of that stuff, and when it’s gone, I’ll be back to plain cafe latte, which is quite yummy enough.

By early afternoon, I told Bill: May God strike me dead if I eat another jelly bean today.  He looked at me in horror, but not to worry: I had had more than enough sugar for the day.  Dessert plans were completely scrapped, and I made all my stomach-achy children eat a small, but wholesome dinner, insisting that real food would make us all feel better.  It worked for me.  Next year: no homemade cinnamon rolls for breakfast.  I think that just sent us over the edge.

Peter really wanted an egg hunt yesterday.  I did remember to put one bag of candy aside to fill eggs, but just couldn’t imagine these kids needed any more sugar.  Maybe today.  I’d hope that he forgets, but I doubt he will.

We attended the Easter Vigil Mass, and Peter and Mary were asleep by the 2nd or 3rd reading.  Dark, quiet room plus bedtime hour equals parents who don’t have to reprimand squirmy little ones.  Works for me.

The boys were servers and due to altar crowding were sitting in the front row near the nun who is our “Pastoral Assistant” or something like that.  Sister Mary Ann is a very nice woman.  But she reprimanded the boys for their behavior.  One wasn’t sitting up straight enough.  The other was coughing because of the incense.  They were hot that she corrected them.  I’m not sure what was more offensive to them: being unjustly corrected (they felt), being corrected by somebody who wasn’t a priest or deacon (they have a very clear understanding of the chain of command), or having parents who did not share their ire.  That’s what nuns do, we said.  They yell at kids who aren’t behaving the way they think they should be.  We then went on to describe that scene from The Blues Brothers where The Penguin beats the daylights out of Elwood and Jake, and added our own stories of terrifying nuns  (although I did also mention my 3rd grade teacher, Sister St. Angela, who was the sweetest woman on the planet in my 8 year old opinion).  I’m certain we have now ruined any chances of our daughters dedicating themselves to the religious life.

The girls had matching Easter dresses – no pictures.  I was still doing some hand-stitching on the way to Mass, and Mary’s lining was not completely done.  I’ll finish them this week.  Katie picked out the pattern, which was Butterick.  Simplicity is so much simpler.  I’ll have to try to steer her away from other companies in the future.  I will say, though, that if you make three of the exact same dress, you get pretty good at it.  And if you have decent help in the form of a 10 year old daughter who knows how to thread the machine and do basic stitching, you can really make quick progress.

I did not finish my own dress, but I’ll work on it today.  After much angst over how to convert a non-maternity pattern to a maternity pattern, I finally realized all I had to do was move the front panel of the skirt pattern 6 inches away from the fold to add 12 inches of extra fabric which could be gathered to fit the empire waist top half.  I experimented on the lining, and it looked fine, so I’ll proceed with the rest.  My needles were getting dull, though, and the thread kept breaking, so I need to run to the store first.  I’m hopeful that it will look nice when it’s all done.  I did this dress as an experiment because I have another dress to make for a gala in 11 days – same modified pattern, but longer.  I need to get stitching.

Wishing everyone a lovely Easter week.