N is For...

N is for nostalgia. With Easter coming up, I thought I'd share some of my childhood Easter memories and traditions. When we awoke on Easter morning, we'd (my younger brother, sister, and I) rush downstairs in our pajamas. Mom would usually be cooking breakfast, most likely egg bake (it's like a scrambled egg casserole) and bacon and cinnamon rolls. The three of us would start hunting- both for our Easter baskets, and those little chocolate eggs, wrapped in colorful foil. Mom and dad would hide at least an entire bag of the little chocolate eggs for us to find. We never found all of them on Easter. For weeks later, we would be finding them tucked away in folds of the couch, or in the corner of a windowsill. After we'd found our Easter baskets and chocolate eggs, we'd sit down to breakfast. (Mom never let us have any candy until after breakfast.) We'd eat and laugh, eying our candy, then go upstairs to nibble away on the goodies as we got ready for church, always in a new dress. A few of the years, I remember my mom sewed our Easter dresses herself. My sister and I always had matching dresses and shoes, and sometimes a hat. After church, we'd head straight over the my Grandparent's house. My Grandpa would hide plastic eggs for us all over the house and yard. We each had a specific color that was "our eggs" , and we'd run off with an old ice cream bucket looking for them. (My grandpa still makes us do this if we come over for Easter, even though we're all now over 18. We still love it.) After we'd found all of our eggs, we'd go back into the living room and open them up to see what prizes were to be found. We always got change and candies, sometimes little erasers or things like that. Then Grandma would give us our Easter baskets, filled with more goodies and toys and whatnot. Easter dinner was always at two. We'd have ham, green bean casserole, Swedish meatballs, and this awesome creamy potato casserole my grandma makes. We'd sit around and talk, laugh, and enjoy the company of each other. We'd drive home, and usually crash from our sugar high, happy and stuffed. What are your Easter memories?