Think before you Hunt

So, my parenting philosophy is that if my child is being a nightmare one of four things is probably happening. 1) She's tired. 2) She's sick. 3) She's hungry. 4) I did something wrong.

More often than not in the middle of a fit I am actually dealing with a combination of either tired, sick, hungry AND I did something wrong. My error is almost always on the table somewhere.

For example, if I keep her up two hours past bedtime, it is my fault if she can't sleep. I chose my friend or some event over her, and now I have to pay. So, I keep peace in my life by accepting this and limiting punishment and expectations after I have made these mistakes. It works. It seems to keep our life consistent and peaceful.

So, I think Easter Eggs hunts are a prime example of 4) I did something wrong.

Here is the situation. As a parent, we take them to an egg hunt because we want them to think it is SOO fun. We want them to mow down other children, get lots of eggs and then be really excited about what is inside each egg. If they do not do this, we are disappointed. (Oh, and they have to smile for the camera while they do it or it doesn't count, right?)

But on the other hand, we want them be excited about sharing the eggs with the children or siblings that didn't get any AND be excited about their candy.... but not eat it. They should also be expected, of course, to stay awake through nap time and then act nice and gracious about the whole thing. Also, they should keep their Easter clothes clean.

NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.

I dragged Quinn to her first egg hunt this morning. I was really excited. I even opened some plastic eggs last night so we could practice at home and so she would know what to do. But here's the situation: In the end, the egg hunt started at 10 a.m. and by 10:32 (even after stopping at a sale on the way home) we were already at home and in Time Out. Dear me, that all could not have been worth it.


THE RUNDOWN
We got there 45 minutes early to play at the park.
It started to rain.
It was cold.
I tried to wait the rain out, but it got worse.
We waited for friends instead of just going home.
Quinn was freezing and pissed by the time anyone else got to the event.
Finally we stood by the orange cones near the age 1 to 4 section and waited for the announcer to say, "Go!"
It started really, really raining.
We heard, "Go!" and ran to some eggs.
I had to help at first, but then she got the idea.
After about 90 sections, there were no eggs left.
We ran to the car passing several children who were just arriving and crying because they got no eggs.
We did not share.
We opened the first egg in the car.
It was a quarter-sized gum ball -- not going to happen.
I distracted her with the tiny chocolates from the next egg.
We drove toward home.
I stopped at a warehouse candy sale for NO GOOD REASON.
We got lots of treats for $10 for NO REASON AT ALL.
Quinn cried about not having anymore tiny chocolates.
I gave her a sucker at the store.
She wanted to be held.
We drove home.
I kind of yelled a little.
She cried about more candy.
She found the gum ball.
It started all over.
Her nose was running.
She started hitting me.
I opened another egg to distract her from the gum ball.
It was frozen chewy candy.
I gave her a bite as I almost lost a tooth.
She screamed for more.
There were lots more boogers.
There was more hitting.
At 10:32 a.m. I put her in her bed for a Time Out and hopefully a nap.
Now she's watching Elmo on the floor in her room.
I set her up for failure.
Oops.
I think we are done with egg hunts.
And there are no pictures.

IN SUMMARY
It seems that the best method for dealing with holidays is to do it ALL yourself so that you know what will work and not work for your child. Quinn doesn't eat a lot of candy, but she is starting to. It is not pretty. I feel like manors, habits and attitude go out the window the minute we deal with unexpected junk food. And at least if I am in charge, I can pick candies that won't choke her!

I should have stuck to my plan to just have one egg hunt at home with eggs filled with her favorite trail mix. Round Two: Tomorrow at 1 p.m.

By the way: I only remember one egg hunt away from my house from my whole life. I think I was either 2 or 3 years old. It is not a good memory. I am pretty sure my mom knew what she was doing.

Oh, and I don't think I have learned my lesson because after naps we are dying eggs -- a completely non-age appropriate activity filled with expectations. Sorry Quinn. I'm trying.