Okay, to be fair, it wasn't just easter.
Last week I drove to Mississauga for work. By myself. In gusting winds. In a rental MINI VAN. This is a four hour drive on the 401 at speeds I don't even like to think about. Sure, the speed limit is 100 km/h. Nobody drives 100 km/h. Well, nobody except ME drives 100 km/h, even though there were gusting winds and blowing snow. Getting there was bad enough, coming back? Intermittant white out conditions basically from Mississauga to Chatham. My eyes were bloodshot and my knuckles white by the time I got home. And just so you know, there is nothing but easy listening crap stations all the way there and back. We are talking coma inducing.
I was tired (gawd, that is a long boring drive when you are by yourself, even when you are scared whitless by driving 140km/h in blinding snow sandwiched by trucks in a rental mini van being buffeted by wind), but there was no time to rest once I got home. No sirree. I had things to do to prepare for what seemed like endless days of Easter.
Friday I baked bread with my father. The Glovasky Family Easter Bread tradition lives on. Three batches. I think my arms nearly fell off. Now I am unsure if my chest pains are heart related or if I just have lingering easter bread kneading trauma. Stronger people have been felled by the bread. New helpers are all gung ho, until it is time to stir in the 11th cup of flour and their arms are ready to fall off, then they have to knead a 50 pound lump of goo and raisins. I have likened this process to wrestling a raisin covered baby gorilla stuck in a glue trap. Here is a montage of the process, from paste to wrapped bread loaves. Don't tell my mom I left her picture in there, she is sensitive that her hair is up in the back. I thought it was supposed to be that way since it is like that every time I see her. What do I know?
Then Saturday we coloured eggs, in between grocery shopping for items I couldn't get before leaving for Missisauga (too early) and wouldn't be able to get Sunday because everything would be closed. The kids and my 80-something year old grandparents coloured all the eggs this year. I have never seen them so excited to colour eggs. In fact I don't think I have ever seen them do it. But there you have it!
Sunday it was breakfast THEN dinner at my parents house. Breakfast was fine. Dinner was ruined for me. I was too upset to eat, which was too bad because I look forward to that meal of ham, mashed potatoes, and creamed peas all year. Oh well. It's not like I will waste away.
Monday I made dinner for DH's family. It was okay. I pretty much kept my head in the oven and busied myself with cleaning and such while leaving DH to play host to his family for a change. It worked out fine. I don't think I will do Easter again next year. Not that it is a lot of work per se, but the timing of things always makes it too busy for me and I end up driving myself into the ground trying to get it all done. Plus I was a little miffed that the plan was for them to get here at 3:00 pm and the dinner was to be at 4, to find out they all wanted to COME for 4 so they could eat right away. And nobody got here until 4:30. They seemed to like the meal. They sure ate like they liked it.
DH is kind of clueless when it comes to holiday prep. He'll do anything I ask, but it gets tiring to do the same thing nine years in a row and have to outline what needs to be done every step of the way, you know? I stay up way late making food ahead and prepping gifts and making sure the house is in order, then get up early to either go places or do more prep and by the time it is done I feel like a wrung out dishrag. And judging by the comments of "You look tired" when picking up DD today, I guess I look like one too ;). Plus I knock myself out and my name isn't even on the freaking cards. My hang up, I guess.