Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Oh Santa baby.

In my never ending quest to have as much of the Christmas "work" as possible done in November so I can use December to make gingerbread houses and watch snow fly and watch Christmas movies with the kids, I had Jack make his Santa list last week and I hauled the kids off to see Santa Claus. (I always go before turkey day, no waiting!)

So, we arrive at the mall promptly at opening time and there is no Santa Claus in sight.

We go to Hallmark where Jack picks out a very sweet first Christmas ornament from him to Sammi and go back to the Santa house.

Still no Santa.

We go to gymboree and buy Sammi another dress and go back to Santa.

Now there is Santa, and a line!

Wait in line for 30 minutes while they try to make the camera work and finally have our turn with Santa. Jack is too shy to speak (for the first year ever) and Samantha is looking at me like I have freaking lost my mind putting her on the lap of this very hairy strange man.
Spend another 10 minutes trying to get a decent photo, tell the girl this is FINE FINE FINE. (It really is fine. Perfection is not the object here.)
Pay my $30 (!!!) dollars and off we go to lunch with Dad.

So I sit down Sunday afternoon to blog about the ridiculousness of the Santa visit and I put the CD in the computer.

And it's blank.

@#%#$@!*$&!@ Where is the Santa photo? Call IT support, aka Dave, who informs me I have a blank CD.

Call the mall where the lady informs me that there is no telephone for Santa.

At this point I realize I am going to have to redress the children, haul them to the mall again and do this charade all over again. Except this time it is 80 degrees, Sammi's dress is dirty and Jack is in NO mood for this.

So I put Sammi in a summer dress (to see Santa Claus for gods sake) and go back to the mall and tell them my issue.

And we do it all over again.

Now Santa Claus, being a friendly old bloke, wants to know what Jack wants for Christmas.

Again.

And Jackson wants to know why in the hell Santa doesn't remember what he wants SINCE WE WERE JUST THERE TWO DAYS AGO.

So Jack refuses to answer, I get all flustered because holy hell my kid is being rude to Santa Claus of all people and I have already had to do this damn thing twice.

Sigh.

It's quite possible this has ruined the Santa gig for my very smart boy.

(I have explained that these dudes in the malls are just elves. Worker bees. Santa is magic and of course Santa knows what he wants and of course he will read the list.*)

So then. The cards are ordered. Santa has been visited. Presents have been purchased. Decorations are starting to go up. (I have no clue what to do with a tree. Sammi is into EVERYTHING.) New Christmas pj's are in the mail.

My plan is well under way.

Well, except for that part about the blank CD and it trying to ruin everything.

Oh Santa baby. More care next year, okay?

*We won't even go into how I had to phone the toy store dot com FOUR times to get a person who knows their rear end from a hole in the ground about non functioning coupon codes in pursuit of list fulfillment.

Or how I still have to take the children to the doctor every three days. It was Sammi's turn again this morning.

3 comments:

  1. Right about this time in life I adopted the phrase..."We are the Griswolds" and yes it is true for everything in our life...ie..the paint job. On the other had, I might add cute photos, great cards and way ahead of me...smiles...Renee

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  2. Sounds like the perfect run up to the holidays LOL. Good for you for sticking with it and all the extra effort to get those pictures. I remember what hard work that was, but I LOVE looking back at those photos and you'll be so glad when they're all grown up. Very cute pictures. Now. Inquiring minds want to know...next year when Sammi is screaming her head off 'cause she actually knows she doesn't want to be in this strangers lap, will you get the shot of the screaming baby? There are different philosophies -- can you guess which side I fall on?

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  3. The year Edie was a baby and into everything, we got a 'live tree' that we planted in the back yard afterwards. She could pull herself up on the bucket it was in, but couldn't pull it over. And breakables only went were she couldn't reach.

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