I was feeling a bit under the weather today (cough, cough, sniff, sniff), so I decided to take the day off. The boys were WONDERFUL and let me sleep in until 9:45. How totally amazing was that? It seems the boys are not morning people either!
Anyway, once my sniffles started to fade--at 9:46, I decided it would be time to try and get the notorious first visit with Santa picture. I called up my trusty sidekick (aka Mom--she's always up for an adventure) and asked her to be here after the boys' afternoon naps. Fortunately, everyone woke up in a good mood, so I put them in their new t-shirts, and we headed out. (I made sure to tell them not to cry or pout and all, but I wasn't sure they were listening.)
We got to the mall, only to realize that the stroller I always keep in the back of the car was no longer there. (Isaac helped with that.) Strike one. No matter. This could still work. We each grabbed a kid and were off.
Before we actually got in to see Santa, my mom noticed that Jason was looking a little blotchy. Upon further inspection, we found he had hives all over his neck, face, and back. (where could he have possibly picked that trait up from?) Strike two. It seems that his cute little t-shirt, that I hadn't yet washed, was making him breakout. Crap. It wasn't horrible, and he didn't act like it was bothering him, so we plugged on toward Santa. (with the idea to take the cute shirt off as soon as we took the picture-see, I am not a totally horrible mother. anything for the picture, right?)
Now I have to admit that my expectations were pretty low. We have all seen the pictures with babies screaming and red faced on Santa's lap. (In their defense, it is kind of creepy to have this big, hairy guy reach out and actually touch you! No offense to Santa or anything.) And let's face it, the Santa's "helpers" are not the most experienced photographers in the world, either.
I didn't care if they cried. I didn't care if they looked at the camera. I was going to be satisfied with the picture if we could get the boys in the general vicinity of Santa's lap. With two strikes already against us, I was bound and determined not to let a third strike stop us now.
So we set the boys on Santa's lap...
and backed up...
and waited for the hysterics to begin.
But our little boys were total ROCK STARS.
We picked the boys back up, thanked Santa, and moved over to purchase the miracle pictures.
Except...
There was a huge glare on Shawn's glasses. I was just going to buy the pictures anyway, until they offered to retake the pictures if we wanted.
Aware that I was tempting fate, we gingerly placed the boys back on Santa's lap.
I just knew that this time would bring on the waterworks.
But our little boys were total ROCK STARS--again! We got the cutest picture of them...
They didn't cry or fuss or anything! They just kept looking around and people watched. They checked out Santa (and thankfully didn't pull or try to eat his hair). It was wonderful! Even Santa said they were very good little boys. (That's right, people. Said by the head honcho, himself!)
Once again, I underestimated my little men!
P.S. The hives disappeared before we even made it home. All we had to do was take the shirt off of him.
