what’s in my easter basket?


oh how easter has changed for me.

plastic eggs filled with mysterious joy, scattered about the yard. a competitive morning for sure. my brother, the super aware, older one, can see the eggs from miles away.

i’m freaking out because i can’t find a single one. i cry. my dad yells at my brother to ‘let me find one.’ whatever that means. my mom is walking directly towards the eggs, hinting the obvious; trying so hard to help me.

‘I FOUND ONE!’ i scream, as i push my mom out of the way, while she’s basically pointing at it. as i grab the egg, i realize there are SLUGS all over it. i scream again. but i must press on. i must persevere through the slime. i must beat my brother.

at least i have found one egg. his plastic grocery bag is filled with at least seven eggs at this point. sigh.

i continue to run around in circles, checking the most obvious places. BUT WHY WOULD MOM & DAD HIDE THEM IN OBVIOUS PLACES? that’s just too easy . . . for a five year old.

then it happens. i lock eyes with a green egg, balanced strategically in the corner of the fence. i look over at my brother. he’s distracted with counting his bounty. i start to run. he sees me. he looks at the direction i’m heading & it doesn’t take long before he sees the green glory. showing no mercy, he drops his plastic egg-filled bag & sprints towards the fence. he approaches the egg at seemingly the same time as me, because i’m obviously slower than him, you know, with me being two years younger, shorter legs, etc.

we the reach the egg. i scream, trying to distract him. he grabs the egg just before my little fingers can reach. victory.

i’m sad. i immediately turn to my mom and dad and cry out ‘THAT’S NOT FAIR!!! HE HAS SO MANY EGGS. I ONLY HAVE ONE!’

this rant continues for about a minute. my brother is encouraged errrr forced to surrender the egg. & that, my friends, is what easter was like my entire childhood. the only thing that changed over the years was i started to get violent towards my brother; take matters into my own hands. oh well.

with all these great memories floating about, i thought it would be fun to describe my dream easter basket. i’m older now. i’m wiser. i’m ready to make my easter basket work for me, rather than have to work out after my easter basket, if you know what i’m sayinggggg. hello chocolatey reeses eggs!

so here are a few items that would make a bunny hop on easter morning. especially if you’re a girl & like healthy little snacks.


“laura bars” are what i call them. my favorite flavor – peanut butter chocolate. there are only five ingredients & i can pronounce them all. it’s crazy talk.


gone are the days of eating applesauce with a spoon. these little guys are adorbs & delish!


ginger chews! my saving grace when i want candy. my go-to when i feel a little car sick. my choice when i don’t have any gum. haven’t tried the other flavors yet though!


kombucha! that’s a fun word to say. one rule with this drink – shaking it is a big NO-NO. i learned that the hard way. it’s full of energy. i like to drink after long runs.

vita-cocooh the controversy with coconut water. i don’t know what to believe anymore. all i know is i love the standard flavor & i drink it during long runs. it makes me run faster.


throw in some nail polish, why don’t cha! in a dream world, i have ample time to paint my nails. i’m loving maximillian strasse her. yay spring colors!

teva_womens_mush_ii_flip_flops_1286758_3_ogmy brilliant sisterinlaw introduced me to teva flip flops. i have about three pairs. you can’t have enough. they are the most comfortable flip flops in the land.


my hair is so dang long & when i’m running, i need it to just stay put. sweaty bands keep my hair in check! & how cute are they?

so that’s my dream easter basket.

& the good news is that easter isn’t even about baskets. or eggs. or slugs.

i’m excited for this weekend. celebrating the fact that Christ didn’t stay dead brings meaning to everything i do in life. it’s big picture stuff.

happy, happy easter & thanks for reading.