four Easters & one bad mama

Imagine: working outside, digging in a new vegetable garden, you come inside, you smell antelope fajitas wafting from the kitchen, your older girl is cuddled up against a mild fever and your man is in the kitchen, swaying with his second baby girl wrapped around his waist.  Imagine her tiny fingers around his thumb.  Now close your eyes and imagine them dancing to this song, a harmony of sisters:  

I've been thinking a lot about my two kids, these sisters.  About all that the first one had, all that the second is missing, all the more the second has, all the more that we miss.  When I found out I was pregnant with number two, my first thought was "wow," my second thought was "Juniper, I am so sorry."  Instantly, I felt as though I'd betrayed her.  And then, I couldn't imagine loving anyone else as much as I loved her, how could I?  How was that even possible?  Everyone said your heart just keeps getting bigger and I trusted that.  And it's true.  Your heart just grows and grows.  But...your time does not.  Lately, I bounce between feeling like I'm neglecting Juniper to feeling like (as my husband says) Hazel's real name is Hold On Hazel.  

And this is a really long way of explaining how the scene I described above put me in tears--my man rarely gets the chance to dance with his youngest--and why I ended up feeling like an asshole mother Easter night, when I went through our photos.  Hazel Iris' first Easter and the only photo I got was the top of her head.  But our oldest girl's first year hunting eggs enraptured my lens.    

Remember those crocheted Easter eggs?  Thar they are!

On this crisp Easter morning, Hazel was wrapped in her polar bear suit, her clear blue eyes squinting against a sharp sun, she hung comfortably in her father's arms.

 ^I had made Juniper an Easter skirt, then her Grandma sent an Easter skirt and of course she insisted on wearing both.^  

I take a lot of photos.  (You knew that already.)  It's a rare event that Hazel's outside and not cuddled against my chest, hidden from view, in a baby sling--and yet I never even *thought* of taking her photo.  The poor girl.  Hold On Hazel.

This hunt in our backyard and future garden was the third of four Easter egg hunts--spread over three days--for J bugs this year.  Arguably, it was the most fun, but our mellow playgroup hunt, the Darwinian town hunt and Easter brunch hunt were cool too.

^Remember the leftover Christmas tree pine-needle nest?  Thar she is!^

^Remember the needle felted egg?  Thar she is!^

I really do love this holiday.  The timing is impeccable, and absolutely not coincidental.  

^Juniper and her good bud at his play kitchen.  Post-Easter brunch.^  

I hope you all have welcomed Spring with proper fanfare.  I know we have with our four Easter egg hunts (and one bad mother).