As is typical, I tried to get a decent family photo and failed…  But, at least this year wasn’t as “colorful” as in years past.  (Sorry, Kristina, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention it.)

Here are some of the terrible takes, before I finally gave up (much to the delight of my husband and kids):

Notice Cheerio trying to get in on the action?

One's run off!

The best of the worst

Well, it all actually turned out okay:

But I still don’t want to do it again anytime soon.

I believe, however, that my brain is special.  It DOES remember pain.

How, for instance, could my brain possibly forget this experience? (With this as the follow up.)  Or this one?  How about this one?  Maybe this one? Here’s another (am I a glutton for punishment or what?)  Oh!  Here’s another.

I didn’t forget.  Not one painful second.  So, I must just be incredibly stupid to have made an appointment with the local photographer to have family pictures done.

During last year’s online school auction, I bid on and won a session and portrait with a local photography studio.  (I must have been drinking heavily at the computer that night and found myself in a bidding war or something.)  I later collected my prize (in the form of a gift certificate) and set it aside.  Every once in a while, I’d come across it, think about the nightmare it would be, and set it aside again.  The last time I came across it, however, I noticed the expiration date.  December 31, 2011.  Less than two months away, and it’s holiday-picture-taking season.  It could be hard to get an appointment.  Shit.

So, I called, but they weren’t open.  Whew!  I set it aside for another week.  But, I’d be damned if I was going to waste the money I spent last February.  So, I called again.  And set an appointment.  I set it for Saturday morning at 10 a.m.  The best possible time.  No one had to get up early.  There was plenty of time to get ready.  No one should be hungry.  Things should go swimmingly.

On Friday afternoon, with less than 24 hours until our appointment, I realized that Luke had his first hockey practice on Saturday morning.  At 10 a.m.  Damn.

I called the studio and asked to reschedule.  But, I said, I really needed a Saturday.  Sure!  The lady said.  Come in at 4.  Stupidly, I agreed.

And so it started.

At 2:50 p.m., Dan took the oldest boys to distribute fliers for Good Turn Sunday.  I gave Dan strict instructions to sign in with the scout leader, grab some fliers, get them out and get back home.  Once home, they would all need to change their shirts, comb their hair and we’d all have to get to the studio.

At 3:17 p.m., while they were still gone, Andrew woke from his nap.  With flushed cheeks and a 103° temperature.

At 3:32 p.m., Maria kicked Sam in the mouth and gave him a bloody lip.

At 3:45 p.m., I’m panicking because the boys are not home.  I poured myself a glass of wine.

At 3:52 p.m., Dan and the boys are STILL NOT HOME.  I take another swig of my wine.

Minutes later, Dan pulls up.  I grab the bloodied Sam, the feverish Andrew, the kick boxer, the boys’ shirts and my f-ing gift certificate and head out the door.

Unbelievably, Dan is in a jovial mood.  (Clearly, men cannot remember pain.)

We pulled up to the place 7 minutes late.  Bad, but not too bad.

After introductions, the photographer ushered us through her storefront, passed her office and into her studio.

It was – predictably – a complete disaster.  The photographer was very nice, and had some great, silly tricks for getting Andrew to look toward the camera and smile.  The other kids, however, all thought the silliness was for them, too.  Instead of staying put, looking forward and smiling at the camera while the photographer worked with Andrew, Jack, Maria, Luke and Sam all laughed (with very wide-open mouths) at her antics, cracked up at Andrew, and grabbed for him when he attempted multiple escapes.  We tried sitting, kneeling and standing.  We tried sitting on stools and on the floor.  We put Andrew on a stump, on his brothers’ backs and in a toy car.

It got to the point where we were threatening the older kids.  I told Jack he would have to pay me a dollar for every bad take (and there were LOTS of them) if he didn’t shape up.  I told Maria she could never wear a dress again, as she kept flashing the camera.  Andrew would NOT stay put no matter what.  Luke was good, but wouldn’t smile (it’s not cool).  And, Sam began to stomp his feet and wield his fists because it was all taking SO LONG!!!

At 4:53 we gave up.  The photographer said she had one “good” family picture and one “good” picture of the children.  (Good being defined as all looking in the general direction of the camera.)

Dan scooped up the baby (but not before he could knock something down) and herded everyone to the van.  I stayed behind to schedule an appointment to go over the proofs.

As soon as we got home, we sent all the kids to their rooms for hard labor (they couldn’t come out until their rooms were sparkling) and cracked open a couple of beers.

We couldn’t get them down fast enough.

So, I’ve made up my own challenge for the weekend:  Hair.

Isn’t it beautiful?!?  Maria spent the night with a friend on Friday and her friend’s mom braided her hair the next morning.  I LOVE it.  Too bad she’ll never have it like this again, seeing as a) I can’t braid; and b) Maria screams when I even pretend to touch her hair.

While on the subject of Maria, I spent a gorgeous afternoon with her and Andrew today.  Not enjoying the weather, bike riding, skating, or doing some other outdoor activity.  No… my little reader wanted the newest Wimpy Kid book.  She’d been asking for a while and since her Dad said “yes,” I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity for a trip to Target.

Problem was, our Target is apparently doing something new with their book section and there were very few books out.  No Wimpy Kid ones.  We asked, but the salesperson didn’t have a clue.  So, off to Barnes & Noble we went.  Very, very slowly.  The highway to B&N was under construction and down to one lane.  Ugh!  It took us FOREVER to get just a few miles.

Then, when we reached the store, the parking lot was packed full.  Fine.  I didn’t mind walking, and Maria was determined to have her book.  I parked a few miles away, opened the back of my van to retrieve the stroller and found… No stroller.  Shit.  That meant I had to carry Andrew across the parking lot and through the gigantic bookstore AND figure out how I was going to use the bathroom while there (Diet Dr. Pepper habit, you know.)  I couldn’t just set him down, as he was barefoot.

We trekked across the lot, into the store, up the escalator and wandered until we found the restrooms.  Once inside, I gave Andrew to Maria to hold and peed as fast as I could.  (Andrew is getting awfully big for her to handle for very long.)  We survived the experience in tact and headed to the “Young Readers” section of the store.

“But I’m not young,” Maria says.

“Yes, you are,” I say.

“No, I’m not!” She tells me.

“Yes, you are,” I tell her.  “You are certainly not old.  You are still a child.  A ‘Young Reader’.  See, (I pointed to the books she was familiar with) we are in the right section.”

She proceeded to tell me the author’s last name and we found two Wimpy Kid books, but not the right one.  We wondered around the entire kids’ section, thinking there might be a Wimpy Kid display with some more books.  And, we found some, but not the right one.

So, I headed over to the computer to do a search.  (Andrew was squirming violently at this point, but there was NO WAY I was letting him down.)  Maria told me that the name of the new book is “Cabin Fever” and I pecked it into the keyboard. After correcting several mistakes (it’s not easy to type one-handed with a squirming child on your hip) I hit “search”.

And the results appeared:  “Coming in November 2011.  Reserve your copy today!”

“MARIA!!!” I said somewhat exasperatedly.  “It’s not even OUT yet!  We have been on a total wild goose chase!!!”

“Oops,” she said.  “I didn’t know.  Let’s just get a different book, then!”

Is there enough blue here for you?  THIS is the first day of school picture.

I know you wish you were me.

A Childhood Memory

This was a toughie.  I mean, how do you take a picture of a memory?  I think I managed to pull it off:

I’ve had this guy for as long as I can remember.  He’s a bank (and an elephant, if you can’t tell) and is still full of the bicentennial quarters and Susan B. Anthony dollars my dad used to save for me.

He’s not as shiny and pretty as he once was… I tried to shine him up with polish once, only to find myself rubbing the silver plating right off his nose.

So.  Here’s some fruit:

This was some of the fruit served at my sister’s wedding party.

I prefer Photo Challenge 9, which is “Someone you love.”

Need I say more?  A cool extra thing about this photo is the background.  See the photos on the fridge in the background?  One is of my niece and nephew and the other is of my kids – all of whom I love dearly!

Dan opening his birthday present.  A new Garmin watch!

Luke’s first race bib, which hangs on his bedroom wall.  He was so proud (as were we)!

That’s about to change, I think, with this photo (the challenge is “clouds”):

Cool, isn’t it?  I totally lucked out getting this picture.  We were leaving the beach in Chicago (just in time!) and we were stopped at a red light.  I took it with my iPhone.