My Little Easter Egg (Fuzzy Little Puppet Book)
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Good seller with good positive feedback and good amount of ratings. How does Baby Bunny say hello to a friend? Follow along with this cute baby Follow along with this cute baby animal as it experiences its world, from playtime to bedtime. The simple, comforting stories in this go-to baby gift series have made it a multi-million Bunny Blessings. Bunny Blessings celebrates the coming of spring and shows little ones there are blessings all Bunny Blessings celebrates the coming of spring and shows little ones there are blessings all around us, from blooming flowers to baby bunnies to buds on the trees.
The sweet rhyming text by Kim Washburn and whimsical illustrations by Jacqueline A coloring book with fuzzy stickers starring Nickelodeon's SpongeBob Squarepants! Bikini Bottom's favorite fry cook Bikini Bottom's favorite fry cook is bringing baskets of Easter silliness to town.
My Little Easter Egg, Fuzzy Little Puppet Book by Martha Gillingham | | Booktopia
With over 30 fuzzy stickers, this coloring and activity book is sure to thrill kids ages Doc McStuffins Bunny in a Basket. Happy Easter, Doc! Join Doc and the gang, as they celebrate Easter with an exciting Join Doc and the gang, as they celebrate Easter with an exciting egg hunt, egg decorating, and other Spring-tastic activities with their friend, Pickles the bunny, in this egg-shaped board book complete with foil eggs and over Happy Easter, Country Bunny shaped board book. Mother Cottontail must leave home for one night to deliver Easter eggs, but her twenty-one When Cottontail hears there's an opening for an Easter bunny there is not, our narrator tells us, just one Easter bunny, as is commonly thought, but five, who work until they grow too old, and are then replaced by younger rabbits , she gathers up her children and rushes off to the palace of the "old, wise, and kind Grandfather Bunny," the leader of all Easter bunnies and her prospective boss.
Cottontail stands before him, with her brood of 21 children neatly lined up next to her, at the interview for the job she's wanted since she was a child.
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And far from being a burden to her at the crucial moment, her children help her prove that she's the best fit for the job. Necessary requirements for the position include swiftness, kindness, and wisdom. Cottontail proves her speed by chasing after her bunnies and rounding them up in record time, and her children prove her kindness and wisdom for her, through their good behavior.
Yes, yes, the Grandfather Bunny acknowledges, but who, he asks illegally, by today's standards , will take care of your house, and your children, while you're working? Cottontail bows modestly, and asserts that her children "will take better care of the house than I. Children are paired off, with each pair responsible for a specific household chore: making beds, weeding the garden, mending clothes, sweeping the floor—there are even pairs of entertainers to sing and dance, and artists to paint pictures, to beautify the home and inspire its workers.
Cottontail has trained her children thoroughly enough to make herself unnecessary—like every good manager and every good mother should. The conditions that make Cottontail's first day on the job possible read as pure fantasy in the facile ways they solve the problems of a young mother trying to balance career and family.
Cottontail's mothering work has transformed her into the ideal candidate for her dream job, not the kind of mush-brained, overtired, and unconfident person that I felt I'd become after a few years of nearly full-time mothering. I couldn't imagine how she could have preserved her ambition so successfully, how she could have kept it safe and thriving beneath the many layers of effort and care that she was surely spreading out, daily, over her children. Cottontail may be able to go out to work, confident in the knowledge that her children are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, but without the intervention of the benevolent and magical Grandfather Bunny at a critical moment, Cottontail's first day on the job would have been a spectacular failure.
As she attempts to deliver a special Easter egg to a sick little boy living in a cabin atop a mountain, Cottontail takes a severe tumble and sprains her ankle. The Grandfather Bunny has given her this job because she has "such a loving heart for children," and she fails—even at this task specially earmarked for a mother.
She sits at the bottom of the mountain as the sun begins to rise, feeling defeated, until the Grandfather Bunny appears, bearing the titular little gold shoes, which, it turns out, grant their wearer the ability to fly. After putting on the shoes, Cottontail's pain vanishes, and she reaches the top of the towering mountain in only two huge hops. Cottontail succeeds, but only with the help of a patriarchal savior, to whom she now belongs, the Grandfather Bunny tells us, as she dons the golden shoes and becomes his "very own gold shoe Easter Bunny.
We're relieved, of course, that Cottontail is going to make it, and we're glad that the angelic, sick little boy will get his Easter egg. But Cottontail pays for our relief with her autonomy. In the Grandfather Bunny's final scene, he looms above the fallen Cottontail, telling us kindly, gently that it always comes down to a man in the end. You might be swift, you might be kind, and you might have successfully imparted to your children the kind of work ethic and domestic skill set necessary to run a luxury resort, but you still might fall—and then you'd have no choice but to wait, huddled up in a furry little heap of failure, for a man to come along and pick you up.
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Worse yet, your failure might feel like a portentous omen about the impossibility of being who you thought you wanted to be. Cottontail falls doing a task that seems to be a perfect amalgamation of the work she does at home and the work she's always longed to do outside the home: she's caring for a child, but in this climactic moment, she does so in her professional capacity as an Easter Bunny.
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And though her failure is a literal fall, it's also a figurative one—a fall from grace, or from the heights of ambition. After she has her 21 babies, the "Jacks with long legs" urge her to be content with what she has, to take care of her babies and "leave Easter eggs to great big men bunnies like us. Cottontail does have a husband, but he is unillustrated and unnamed, and mentioned only once— immediately before we learn that "one day, much to [Cottontail's] surprise, there were 21 babies to take care of.
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And though being married to him feels nothing like being property, there is a sliver of something familiar in the Grandfather Bunny's rescuing Cottontail as she struggles to do her job. I struggled to do mine after my children were born, and I relied on my husband in all kinds of ways as I hopped, clumsy and exhausted, up the mountain of my dissertation. And though it's true that he relied on me to provide so much of the intimate care our children needed when they were babies, I relied on him for nearly everything else. I relied on the money he made—we all did—while I brought home a graduate student's stipend that barely covered childcare.
I relied on him to take care of our children while I finished my dissertation, on weekend afternoons when all my six-month-old daughter wanted was me and no one wanted to take a nap. I relied on him to listen to my tortured attempts at explaining my writing struggles du jour , and to encourage me to keep on struggling.
I relied on him to pick up our kids from day care or school when they got sick, because the adjunct position I got after finishing my degree didn't offer sick or personal days. And I rely on him still, even though I feel more secure and competent at my teaching job than I did while writing my dissertation, and our children are spending more time in school than they ever have before.