I had great plans for our picture with Santa this year. I have cute, matching outfits for the kids and I planned to bathe them all before we went so their hair would be perfect and their faces booger-free. They would not be covered in spit-up and/or candy shrapnel. They would look adorable. But, as with many of my best-laid plans, it was not to be.
I must say, it's because of my sweet, sweet husband that it didn't work out. And I am grateful to him.
You see, we met at the mall Friday so I could go shopping for clothes that fit me and are in style (after the cracker incident, he insisted that I get something new). He took the kids while I shopped. It was wonderful. Usually, when you are given the "green light" to buy new things, you can't ever find anything, but I did. I found three or four new tops, a black skirt for dressing up and a pair of cute, sexy tall black boots to wear with the skirt. Fun, fun.
And in the midst of all of this, who should appear, but my sweet husband and children. And they had a surprise for me.
Aaron said "I know you've been worried about when we were going to get their picture taken with Santa, so I just went ahead and did it." Bless his heart. The kids looked horrible. Avery had insisted that they all three wear Spiderman socks and they don't fit anyone but her. Reese's hair is going through an "unfixable" stage and always looks frizzy and frazzled unless she is fresh from the bath. I wonder if that's what she's upset about? Rhett had on a onesie that is stained with a banana/sweet potato/spit-up combo. But bless Aaron's heart for trying.
And the bright side of this? Our Santa picture, like so many other things that turn out not-so-perfect, has a good story. And that's what I like about it!