the first (annual?) santa picture

yesterday a dear friend called me to see if we'd be interested in hitting the mall for Santa pics. We've avoided this in past years because there was no doubt in our minds that Alden would have a full freak-out, cling-to-mommy's-leg, no-way-in-hell, fit. But this year I thought, hmmm... I got a full three hours of sleep last night, so I'm sure I can handle two kids at the mall. And without giving it another delusional thought, I packed the kids into the car and headed out.

We met our friends in Northgate and strolled straight for the "Pretend Santa." Yes, our little boy knows the shocking fact that Santa is... well, dead. I know some of you are horrified that we've taken the "excitement" out of Christmas, but I guarantee that Alden is still plenty excited, and he's actually been processing pretty deeply—for an almost three-year-old—how the whole Jesus/ Santa/Christmas thing works.

So there we were, children waiting as patiently as any baby and toddler can wait. Alden was watching another girl scream desperately for her mother as she sat on Santa's lap, and Tula was happily flirting with an older couple whom she had captivated with her grin. I thought to myself, great, this picture is going to turn out so cute.

Our friends' turn came and the cashier said $29.95! For one sheet of photos? You've got to be kidding. We asked what the smallest (ahem, cheapest) package was. $16.99, yep, almost twenty bucks. But it's the experience, right? I mean that's got to be worth a few dollars. When it was at last time for Alden and Tula to hop up on Santa's lap, I had high hopes. Then came the refusal from Alden. He wasn't about to sit on some strange man's lap—can't blame him, so I we convinced him that it would be okay to stand next to him.

As I was preoccupied with Alden, Tula had traded in her once sweet and precious smile for an all-out wail. Tears were flowing from her face as I shoved her into Santa's arms, hoping that she'd be pacified by his fuzzy beard or shiny glasses. Nope. The ear-piercing screaming continued. Then the little comfort that she had—the pink pacifier that dangled precariously from her quivering lip—fell. Not just on the floor either, it plopped itself on the oversized chair squarely between Saint Nick's legs. My mommy instinct kicked in and I quickly lunged for it... WAIT! Thankfully I caught myself before getting a little to friendly with the man in red. But there it was, and he didn't seem to notice. Several awkward moments passed as my eyes darted from Tula, to Santa's face, to the pacifier. Should I tell him to look past his Santa-sized belly? Then, just in time for me to scoot out of the camera's way, Santa grabbed the pacifier and popped it in Tula's mouth. Click.

The first photo was not at all what I had hoped my twenty dollars would buy me. The photo people must have been feeling generous that day because they conceded to take a few more pictures in hopes that a screaming mouth might somehow be interpreted as a wide-open smiling mouth. And here it is... are you fooled?