Christmas photos, take two

Obviously I love my child. I say that because by the time you finish reading this post, you might get the idea that I want to sell her.

Yesterday was the day we were (re)set to take C's Christmas pictures. Again. Last week, if you didn't already hear, our plans went slightly awry. (See my earlier post November and 91 degrees and notice the above weary-looking photo.)

Unfortunately, this weekend Ian had to work, so I headed back to the Glendale Sears as the solo parent. Let me just say, if you decide to take your child alone, without spousal backup, to get his or her photo taken, especially if it's been a chore every other time, take courage, take strength, take Valium.

C was a trouper through the actual picture-taking. She was mesmerized by the faux milk and cookies, transfixed by their seeming sugary goodness. It was only when she scratched the waxy surface of the milk(oid) and tried to eat it that she realized something was up. She certainly enjoyed playing with the toys more than saying cheese, but we got our photos, and that's what really mattered.

It was only when we had to wait for the photos to load onto the computer and for me to actually pick them out that things got dicey. My focus was on the computer, and C's focus was on an escape plan. I had to keep her in my lap so she wouldn't leave the studio, and it was as if I had taped her to the wall and left her there for days. (The photo on the right is something hilarious I found online sans credit. It came up as one of the first images on Google when I typed in "daycare." Yikes.) Of course, there were about 10,000 other children with family in tow in the studio waiting area when the tears and screaming started. Good thing I left my capacity for embarrassment in the delivery room.

In total, there were three full-blown, code-red temper tantrums. In the beautiful dress. In the ruffly white socks. And lots of rolling on the floor not laughing.

I was so distraught and distracted, I just hope I clicked on the right poses to send out for Christmas. At this point, though, I'm actually just hoping they're photos of the right kid.