I keep doing this weird thing. As a holiday approaches, I think, ehh—Hudson is too little to get into this, so really, who cares this year? And then as it gets closer, I think—oh crap. I CARE! If nothing else, it’s a great excuse to dress him up in a little outfit, do a festive craft for our yet-to-be-created baby book and get the picture, right? And then once I get my wits about me, it’s too late to actually do anything about it. This is so strange because I LOVE holidays. We did not drop the ball on Christmas, of course, but a version of this scenario has played out for Halloween, Thanksgiving (how did I not get a “mama’s little turkey” onesie and make a FOOT PRINT TURKEY?!), and St. Patrick’s Day.

Given my track record, it was probably no surprise to Jason when right around Black Friday I did an about face on my “let’s just take it easy this weekend” stance and wanted to do something to celebrate Easter. At that point, it was really too late for the outfit, and I didn’t have the heart to send him straight into the arms of a terrifying mall Easter bunny for the classic meltdown pic.

So we decided to start our own family tradition and make a nice brunch at home to celebrate. Which was perfect.

But from here on out, I’m committed to getting my holiday on. Hang on to your hats, family.

This weekend was as beautiful a spring weekend as I can remember—in the 70’s! Which is particularly great because Easter is always heavy on the spring weather expectations with the whole “rebirth and renewal” thing—but April is a weird month in Chicago and does not typically deliver on the sunny, mild weather front. I remember so many cold, drizzly, Easters past… and maybe even a freak snow shower or two?

On Saturday we took advantage of the summer-like weather with lots of walks around the neighborhood, and sat outside at D4 to have drinks and an appetizer (and try to contain Hudson, an increasingly difficult task). We had the good luck to have friends surprise us to come over to say hi to Huds, grill dinner with us and watch the Blackhawks game—though that’s where our good luck ended, because we ran out of propane (key for steak skewers) and the Hawks also seemed to run out of good luck.

On Sunday I got up early with Hudson and we headed out for an early trip to Starbucks and for a few laps around the neighborhood to wake “ourselves” up from the relatively late night with friends. Then we got home, got ourselves out of PJs, and got down to brunch making.

We made a frittata, our favorite bacon from Whole Foods, and ambitiously attempted a smoked salmon potato galette. At one point Jason said, “So, did you actually read this recipe? Because you seem pretty surprised by a lot of these steps.”  Apparently I skimmed it, because nothing in me would have committed to a two-cast-iron pan situation involving a potato cake flip with hot oil in the process. The whole thing took 2 hours to make and we were starving by the time it was done, but we had a lot of fun in the process. It did not turn out perfectly, but I loved spending the day in the kitchen with Jason while we rotated Hudson through his various toy stations to keep him entertained.

After brunch, we took Huds to the park for some time on the swings, then headed home for a family nap to sleep off our huge brunch and the fresh air. The best.

Next year there will probably be Easter bunnies, baskets, and egg hunts, but I hope we continue our Easter brunch tradition in some form every year. I imagine that holidays come to take on a life of their own as babies turn into children, and families grow and change. Even though I don’t have the photo in the cute outfit, I will always be grateful for these memories of our quiet little celebration at home.

But get ready for July 4th, 2017, Huds: I’m coming for ya with a star-spangled onesie and a hand-print flag!