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Family photo hell

by Jean James (Mon Nov 30, 2009)
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Before I had kids I swore I would never be one of ‘those' moms who sent out Christmas cards with pictures of their kids on the front. I enjoyed the festive photos Hallmark had to offer, of snowmen and Santas, even a picture of Jesus was just alright with me. However I dreaded getting pictures of other people's kids in some corny outfit, posing in front of a fake fireplace, or at the beach in shorts and Santa hats. Was all this really necessary just to wish someone a Merry Christmas? And anyway, what was I supposed to do with all those photos of overdressed children forcing a smile for the camera? Save them in a photo album marked ‘people I only see at Christmas,' or toss them out with the fruit cake? I must admit, I'm guilty of the latter.

Even after I had my first son I still managed to send out an uninhibited Christmas greeting. No frills, no pictures, just ‘Merry Christmas and Happy New Year'. But then the complaints started pouring in. ‘Where's the picture of the baby? We want to see the kids.' Who were these people?

Why should I have to go out and spend way too much money on a card I don't want to make, that's going to end up under a big pile of coffee grinds in someone else's garbage? Bah humbug!

But peer pressure got the better of me, and I spent the next few Christmases dressing up my unwilling children in matching red and black tartan, and Irish knit sweaters. I placed them in front of the fireplace and jumped up and down, making ridiculous faces and saying absurd things; anything to induce a smile. Alas, smiles did not come easily, and I ended up a sweaty, angry mess yelling ‘Smile goddam it!'

The final straw occurred last year. Not only did I need to get the three children's Christmas pictures, but my husband decided we should also get a family portrait. In his infinite wisdom, he thought it would be a great idea to meet after work - you know, the end of the day when kids are tired, hungry and cranky. But with the children in their Christmas finest, I packed them up and headed out to the Worst Place on Earth aka the department store photo studio. It was also at this time I noticed the baby had a small amount of yellow goop oozing from his eyes. Nothing a Wet One couldn't take care of, while we waited patiently for my husband.

An hour and half later he finally made it. The kids were antsy, hungry and tired. My paltry supply of snacks was long gone. With each half hour that passed, the yellow goop in my baby's eyes was becoming thicker and crustier. He looked like a yellow version of Frank Zappa.

My husband didn't seem bothered at all, but he was a Christmas card virgin, so he really didn't know what to expect. This was usually my self-inflicted injury, but I was more than happy to share the pain.

When they finally called us in for the picture we were greeted by the unhappy photographer. She lowered the tacky fake Christmas screen, and the children were placed together. By the time she got back to her camera, my goopy-eyed baby was crawling away. She came back, repositioned them again, got back to her lens, and oops, baby ooze was on the run. The frustration was building, which of course was making the children laugh; too bad they weren't sitting together. When we finally did manage to corral all three, none of them would look at the camera, no one was smiling, my husband's Christmas cheer had become a sneer, and those familiar beads of sweat were accumulating under my armpits.

All I wanted to do was go home, put the kids to bed and crack open a big fat bottle of red wine, which is exactly what I did.

I vowed ‘Never again!' But, never say ‘never,' because now it's that time of year again, and my husband who forgets everything, must have forgotten last year's Christmas card from hell, because he just said to me, ‘We have to get the kids' pictures done for the Christmas card.' I rolled my eyes and let out a groan of misery. ‘No problem, hun, I'll put it on my ‘to do' list.'

I put it just under the first item on that list: Buy one case very strong red wine.

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Posted Mon Nov 30, 2009 at 8:35 pm Reply Delete
Once upon a time there was just Hubby and I so we didn't worry about "family photos". My family didn't do them and neither did his (his mom was probably too drunk), but now there is us and a kid. And I can't help wondering if we should try one of those things. Nah...I don't think so. Some cheap photo of Santa will do just fine. Who needs the headache and after reading your tale....I'm a bit frightened by the prospect!Report Abuse
Posted Mon Nov 30, 2009 at 8:01 pm Reply Delete
I am seriously considering an e-card for next year. Not only is the TransAtlantic postage now a joke, but I have to chorale the family tonight to try for one decent photo. I gave up with the studio portrait after one year - too much to handle. And I'm NOT paying the photographer's prices for a beautiful b/w card which will end up in everyone's bin. Pah!Report Abuse
Posted Mon Nov 30, 2009 at 5:07 pm Reply Delete
Happily the fashion for the themed kiddie pics wasn't around when I was young. But this totally took me back to the horrors of our own family photo. Not only was I totally uncooperative on the day and drove my parents to within a hair of murder, but I always hated the end result. Thanks for the reminder!Report Abuse
Posted Mon Nov 30, 2009 at 1:49 pm Reply Delete
my goopy eyed baby is currently asleep, and i'm online debabting whether to go for the xmas card options, or the marginally more tasteful thank you card photo option this year. you made me laugh though, thanks!Report Abuse
Posted Mon Nov 30, 2009 at 1:02 pm Reply Delete
I refuse to send Christmas cards! I refuse! But it's getting harder as year on year more pour through the letter box and people are getting shitty about the lack of greeting. I said Happy Christmas to all of them, but apparently it deosn't count unless it's written on a card and sent through their letter box... Huge admiration coming to you for all your efforts, think how much more wine you could drink if you hadn't wasted time at the department store....Report Abuse

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