Smiling with Santa

Well. Let's just say, you light a charge under everyone's butt and you get them to the spot they need to be for the photo.

No matter how early. 

No matter where.

As the family historian, I adore group photos.

As a Mom, I appreciate the Herculean effort it takes to get everyone ready.

Phil likes to say, "Hope is not a strategy - so have hope with a strategy."

Ever hopeful, I spelled out the terms of the photo shoot to the kiddos:

• There is no opting out.
• Cooperation means you get to keep your devices.
• You may not like your outfit.
• Sonny will be in the photo and Mom will choose who gets to hold his leash.
• For the boys: you might have to stand next to a girl ("yuck").
• For Emma: you might have to rest an arm on an annoying little brother ("ew. ew. ew. Mom!").
• Santa will be in the picture with you - whether or not you believe is not important.
• You will smile.

 Great strategy.

And, yet the morning of the big day is chaos:

• The boys cannot buckle their own belts or tie their shoes worth a lick.
• I'm so used to Will in shorts and a t-shirt that I actually feel uncomfortable seeing him wear a nice shirt with jeans.
• I slacked on getting haircuts because I thought we had plenty of hair gel at home. Wrong.
• The cute Winter dress I'd been saving for Emma is apparently too itchy. Suddenly, it's as if all of her dress clothes have become too tight, too short, and unwearable overnight.
• I forgot to tell the kids not to eat until after the picture… and they decided on powdered sugar donut holes for breakfast.
• I realize as we all pile into the van that Sonny must have rolled in something very disgusting on his walk because he smells like chicken butt. (Use your imagination.)

The strategy is history.

All I can do is hope we get something Christmas card worthy.

Click here to read the rest of this post (and see all the photos) on 6ftmama.com