Ah, tradition. Sometimes a bit painful, but always worth keeping. One tradition that marks the beginning of the holiday season is the annual cousin Santa picture. All four families come from far and wide to meet at the mall all dressed up, wait in the long line, paste on cheesy smiles and click, take the pic. My favorite part is always the look on Santa's face when he finds out we have ten, ten?!, kids that all need to pile onto his lap, chair, floor space to get the perfect picture. I feel for the guy!
This year was not without its fair share of the dramatic. I was bathing the kids right before we left so they would be spic and span for the photo, when Noah started screaming that his "area" was hurting. He needed to go to the bathroom, but was having trouble and it hurt so, so bad. All tell-tale signs of a bladder infection. Of, course the pedi's office was already closed for the day. What to do? I calmed my boy down, asked Gigi to stop at the store for some cranberry juice, dosed him with Motrin, and off we went.
He was soon feeling much better and the symptoms never reappeared. So strange.
This mall has pretend snow falling as you wait for Santa. With the special lighting, the snow drifts and gently falling flakes, it really is magical. O enjoyed it so, so much.
I'll interject a tad more drama here. As we were waiting for our turn to see Santa and all the kids were playing in the snow, one kiddo did not seem to be enjoying himself so much. Clayton was kind of propped up in the corner, not at all himself. Sure enough, just as we stepped up to sit in Santa's lap, Clayton made a bee line for the nearest trash can and threw up. Lovely. Poor Guy! We cozied up for the picture as fast as we could, told everyone to hold their breath so as not to get any germs, and quickly sent poor Clayton home to recuperate.
It turned out pretty good...considering.
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