Only seven more days until Christmas, and you know what that means...
Um, no. I mean, yes. But no, I'm talking about something else. Try again.
Well yeah, that too. But that's still not what I'm referring to. One more guess.
You've got a point. But no... Let me help you out. What's 4x6, comes in your mailbox and causes me great fits of angina every year?
Right! Holiday cards! You're so smart.
Every year I have a slight (read: HUGE. MASSIVE. EPIC.) hissy fit trying to get the perfect photo for our holiday cards. I don't know why, it's just what I do.
Except this year it was remarkably pain free. On a beautiful warm day in November, Mr. C and I dressed the girls up in matching clothes, brushed and washed them until they sparkled and then propped them up on a rock in our yard in the hope we would get one picture where they weren't pulling each others hair and no one was missing an eyeball. I positioned them, threatened them with bodily harm if they moved and then stood back, screaming "TAKE THE FREAKING PICTURE!!" at my husband while the kids planned their first trips to the therapist in their heads.
And wouldn't you know, the first picture we took was a keeper. Not just a keeper, but suitable for framing. It was the first damn picture we took! We were so ahead of the game, it was spooky.
I know. Where's the drama? Where's the goofy faces? Where's the screaming??
Well, there was screaming but that was coming from me. Come to find out, scaring your kids silly will result in a good holiday card picture.
*jots that down in my "Things to always remember" book*
So without further ado, I give you our family's 2009 Holiday Card.
I know, you're just as disappointed as I am. They actually look happy! They're smiling. No one is trying to kill the other. How am I supposed to be expected to work under these conditions??
It's bad enough that I've become one of those people who dress their kids up in matching outfits, but now I have a decent photo card. Next year I'm sticking them with pins.
I'm sorry Chicklets, if you want holiday drama with a side of conniption fits I suggest you go here first to read our history of the holiday photo session, then try this post, this one, finally ending with this one. I reread them because all of this happy happy made my left eye twitch.
God bless us, everyone. Now where's the nog?
In other news, I'm writing with more regularity. But it's not here. It's there. I'd love to know how you feel about perpetrating the Santa