Easter holidays 2025

This Easter, I had so much fun with my little boy.

In my country, we have a tradition of painting boiled eggs in different colors. I don’t really focus on the religious side — I love the fun part. We paint them in any colors we like (only the first one should be red), we draw on them, add stickers, and get creative.

This year, my son was old enough to help me.

I bought different paints and stickers, and he was so excited — smiling, curious, and wanting to be part of everything. I expected a huge mess and hours of cleaning after, but he surprised me. He was gentle, careful, and fully focused.

According to the tradition, eggs can be painted on Thursday or Saturday. We did both — together on Thursday, and then on Saturday he painted eggs again with his grandmother.

On Sunday comes the fun part — the “egg fight.”

Each of us chooses an egg and we tap them against each other — top against top, bottom against bottom. The person whose egg doesn’t crack is believed to have the best health for the year.

I love these small traditions.

At the same time, we also received some good news — we finally found tenants for our apartment in the big city. I felt such relief. Like something heavy just lifted.

But not everything went as planned.

We revisited an apartment we really liked and decided we wanted to buy it, even though it needs a lot of work. It’s in a beautiful location — right next to a park by the Danube — and it felt like an opportunity we shouldn’t miss.

However, communication with the owner was extremely difficult. He replied slowly, rarely answered his phone, and the whole process became frustrating. I had so many things I wanted to say, but I chose to stay patient.

Then things got even more complicated — his father got sick and was hospitalized, which made communication almost impossible.

At the same time, we were under pressure. We had to travel to my hometown to sign the rental contract, and the owner of the apartment we wanted to buy lives abroad and was about to leave again.

In the end, we agreed on a price.

We rushed to the banks, compared loan options, and even scheduled a meeting to sign the contract.

And then… he stopped answering.

Completely.

I felt devastated, angry, and disappointed. For a moment, I truly believed things were finally falling into place.

But maybe this is not the right place for us.

Maybe something better is waiting.

We’re still searching — and hopefully, we’ll find our new home this summer.

If moments like this remind you what really matters:

→ My Brother’s 18th Birthday Party  

→ Small Act of Kindness