Painting Easter Eggs: My Bout With Temporary Insanity

The other morning I woke up and thought: 'Self, today would be a good day to test your anxiety tolerance and see just how much longer your brain will operate without Xanax.'

HEY GIRLS - LET'S PAINT EASTER EGGS!  YEY!

'Self, maybe you should wait until the toddler is napping because that would be the non idiotic thing to do.'

'But self, Martha Stewart told me I could do it and besides I want pictures of her doing things other than painting the bathroom walls with wet toilet paper or throwing huge fits because I didn't get her juice fast enough.'

'Self, maybe you should drink that coffee, consider lacing it with vodka, and think about it a little while longer before you go jumping in head first into the crazy world of pastel dye.  DYE THAT WILL PROBABLY END UP ON YOUR FACE AND CABINETS.'

'Nah.  I feel like living life on the wild side today.'

Here goes nothing.

Waiting for the tablets to dissolve....

Still (im)patiently waiting

Channeling her inner Dr. Seuss and making a green egg

Gently putting the egg in

Sad face for the smurf hands

Still stirring the egg and dyeing her hands

Angry face for taking away the dye

"Dada, nono mama!"
Translation "That mean lady took away my dye! SOB!  And your hat makes me want to vomit!"

Oh, stickers.  Awesome.

Picasso

Gluing a sparkle face on her egg because, obviously sparkle egg faces are rockstars

OK girls, hold your eggs up and smile
Umm, good enough

Avery wasn't very careful with her 'ball'

I need a nap.