Really quickly, I have to post this before I forget it.
Next year's Christmas cards are going to totally rock. How can I be so sure, you ask? Well, my friend, here's the deal. When we take our Christmas card picture, everyone gets dressed in whatever Mom (that's me) told them to wear or put on them, in the case of the under-2 crowd. We sit in front of the Christmas tree and a cool friend / family member snaps some pics. We put them all on the computer , edit the red eyes and cut and paste a little extra tree in the bare spots, paste the photo into a card at one of the online photo printers and they arrive in a couple of days.
The problem this year was the fact that there were living, breathing people in the picture. It was a silly little hangup, really, but one that nonetheless threatened to ruin the whole thing this year. And said little people were not into the whole experience. We ended up taking about fifty photos and there was only one in which all the kids were smiling and looking at the camera. Hubby also happened to be looking at the camera but not smiling. So he got to be Scrooge this year and I got to be...
Mrs. Claus.
Mrs. Claus? What do I mean by that? I mean that the only photo that captured the kids well was the one in which yours truly looks about twenty pounds heavier than actual size. Awesome. I don't know. Maybe red's just not my color. Maybe I was pulling my head back on my neck to avoid falling over. Maybe it was water-weight. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn't flattering.
Next year's Christmas cards are going to totally rock. How can I be so sure, you ask? Well, my friend, here's the deal. When we take our Christmas card picture, everyone gets dressed in whatever Mom (that's me) told them to wear or put on them, in the case of the under-2 crowd. We sit in front of the Christmas tree and a cool friend / family member snaps some pics. We put them all on the computer , edit the red eyes and cut and paste a little extra tree in the bare spots, paste the photo into a card at one of the online photo printers and they arrive in a couple of days.
The problem this year was the fact that there were living, breathing people in the picture. It was a silly little hangup, really, but one that nonetheless threatened to ruin the whole thing this year. And said little people were not into the whole experience. We ended up taking about fifty photos and there was only one in which all the kids were smiling and looking at the camera. Hubby also happened to be looking at the camera but not smiling. So he got to be Scrooge this year and I got to be...
Mrs. Claus.
Mrs. Claus? What do I mean by that? I mean that the only photo that captured the kids well was the one in which yours truly looks about twenty pounds heavier than actual size. Awesome. I don't know. Maybe red's just not my color. Maybe I was pulling my head back on my neck to avoid falling over. Maybe it was water-weight. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn't flattering.
But it's great! I've seen two friends on the Christmas card list since the holiday and they've both seemed surprised, saying things like, "Wow! You look... great!" and I'm always so pleased and happy until I figure out that they're comparing the me before them to the Christmas-card me. "Oh, yeah, the cards... We just picked the best picture of the kids. Did you notice Scott didn't even smile?" I ask. The inevitable answer is always "No, I didn't notice that," and it figures.
So I figure that no matter what we end up sending out next year it'll be great. Because there's really no way I could possibly look any dumpier / washed out / more beat-down-and-haggard than this year. So I will look absolutely awesome (right!) and Hubby will probably still not smile--because he will be what? What was that? OOOOOOHHHHHHHH! HE'LL BE FORTY!!!!!!! Bah Humbug.
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