family photo

About two months ago, after church one Sunday, I signed up for our family to have our picture taken for the forthcoming pictorial church directory. I must have been so sedated from the sermon that I wasn't thinking straight when I picked the time slot of 4:40pm on this lovely Wednesday afternoon. I guess I was thinking something like, well it'll be after L's nap, so she'll be perky and fresh. Or perhaps none of the morning slots were available, and I didn't want to interrupt naptime, I'm not exactly sure what the reason was. I hope it was a good one...

...Completely crazy this afternoon. L began her nap at a decent time of roughly 1:30pm. Our power cut out at about 2 pm, interupting the boys computer time, which prompted the eldest to have a sulky spell since he hadn't had a turn yet. After a call to BGE and a brief wait, the power came back on, the boys finished their game and I folded a gargantuan pile of laundry. L is still sleeping. After the laundry is put away, K asks to play Candyland (my least fave kid game) and I am able to convince him that he is much too old for such childish games..."it says ages 3-6 on it"...so we proceed to play our very first game of family Scrabble and are completely emersed, when suddenly I remember our errand today and ask, "K, what time is it?"
"4:15, Mommy."
"Shoot, we've got to get our pictures taken!" and I begin the flurry of brushing my hair and checking my make-up and then proceed to wake our sleeping Beauty...We are pottry training again, after a bit of a relapse, so I plop her on her potty seat and she begins to cry, still dazed and half asleep. Then I try to wrestle the unhappy princess into something to wear. She's sitting on the changing table completely naked refusing everything I hold up, even her ever-popular icecream cone t-shirt. (At this point I don't care what she wears as long as it's something. I gave up on the idea of all of us coordinating, that's not really our style anyway.) Then I decide she's going to be unhappy no matter what and wrestle her into a dress and matching panties while she cries and exclaims, "NO DRESS, MOMMY" repeatedly. Her face is red, blotchy and tear-stained. I hold her and she wipes her snotty, teary face on my shirt. Great, now I need a fresh shirt.

It is now 4:30...we will be late getting to church. My mom announces from outside the kitchen window that she has picked a lot of peas, I refill a sippy cup and still have to get everyone in the car.

Somehow we manage to get there only five minutes late. Not bad I'm thinking. L has stopped crying finally but still is blotchy and grouchy. She clutches me and her pink doggy and her sippy cup like a life line.

We are called into a room by a young man with a quirky British accent. I'm thinking, "Is he on drugs or is he just trying to be peppy for the kids?" It was bizzare and I felt a little uncomfortable. After many attempts to get the little Miss to smile, an Elmo doll appeared and seemed to do the trick, but not before a million obnoxious noises and faces were made at her. It's no wonder I look glazed over and annoyed in most of the pictures.

The one we chose but didn't buy, since the smallest "package" was over a hundred bucks, has everyone smiling to some degree. I think the kids look the best, but hey, so what? It's just for the church directory anyway. To remember the insanity I get one free 8x10 print. Oh, yay.