So we keep saying that we are going to shell out the extra money to get “real”family photos, the ones with a sunset background and delicious touch ups to make everything and everyone look aglow, rather than the $3.99 special, provided by a teen with camera at our local Target. However, I keep saying that we will take the plunge once I get back into my skinny(er) pants, so the poster sized abomination will at least act as a time capsule of a thinner time. Unfortunately, we’re still waiting. It seems every time I almost reach my goal, I go and get knocked up again. And while I know many of you have been able to take those angelic prego shots with beautifully rounded bare bellies, my pregnant belly was never an image I would wish upon my worst enemy, and definitely not capture on film. Let me tell you…that stretch mark cream didn’t work. I was a freakin’ zebra. If anyone was ever unfortunate enough to bare witness to it, the image was burned into their mind forever anyways. No photo necessary. And before the rumors start a floating, NO…I am NOT pregnant again…don’t worry! I know some you were about to call social services on me, as if I was one of those crazy cat ladies, only with too many kids instead of felines. Take a deep breath. I’m just currently working on that “kid-weight” (see Day before we spend the big bucks on a real photographer. Maybe when they’re ten…or twenty…or maybe with the grandkids one day. So for now, it is coupon-inspired photo options for us. Now, for those of you who have never experienced the joy of Target sessions with kids, here is my synopsis in BAD photos and a how-to guide. First, dress the children in things that focus less on cuteness and more on anti-itch. This will help you avoid some of the symphony of complaints that will inevitably consume your morning. Any authentic smile you might capture is purely accidental. This is not a joyful event, even if the Christmas Card claims otherwise. Then, layer them with as many disposable items as you can possibly manage, to act as all-over bibs for the inevitable mess that will end up on them prior to the photo session. “Mommy I spilled…” Remove a layer. “Mommy, Mia spilled….on me” Remove a layer. Now buy the thickest pair of tights you can find (I am talking tube sock quality), with the hope that they will avoid tearing a hole too big to be covered up by a sibling. And bring a Costco sized box of wipes. You’ll need them. And explain to them you will be fasting from this point forward, as they will likely find a way to make even a glass of water destroy the masterpiece you have been creating for hours. Hold the carrot (or fruit snack) of a reward to encourage submission, and provide them singularly, if needed, in order to keep a level Supply and Demand ratio. You’ll need them to survive the actual session. Also, make sure to bring their favorite toy, so you can have something to threaten to take away if it starts to get desperate. Then, spend as much time hair spraying their hair, as you did styling it, with the hope that at least some of their hair will avoid being plastered into a rat’s nest on one side of their head. Oh no! Even though you gave yourself two hours to get everyone ready, you now have only five minutes to prepare yourself. Throw on something questionably matching and bring your makeup in a Ziplock for the car ride there. You’ll still look the best that you have in weeks. Admit it. Now, I always choose the first photo time, as they are notoriously running behind, and 15 minutes can be the difference between sweet little smiles and absolute possession for both my kids and the photographer. Of course, this time, Target made the amazing executive decision to add on earlier sessions after I had already set my strategic time. So we start off with a challenge. Luckily, I brought a backup plan. The coveted Elf on the Shelf has hitched a ride in my purse. And while they cannot touch her, I allow them to dabble in the forbidden, of carrying her about in this carrying case in order to keep the troops morale up while we wait, and wait, and wait. Now, please know that taking your shots at Target is like playing Russian Roulette. You might get an amazing photographer and too many shots to choose from…maybe. However, you are much more likely to get the scenario I have broken down for you in visuals today. Take a look. I have provided a brief dialogue with each sad, sad shot to help y’all understand our descent into the black hole that eventually became the Christmas Card you will soon get. Enjoy people!

This is a different session, but an important warning to all of you of what can happen when you don’t come prepared to a photo session. It can be dangerous people. Dangerous!

Step 1: Potential. The m&m and sticker trick is working. 4/5 smiles. Now just snap a couple more lady, so I don’t look I am slowly falling into a slumber. Quick! There is hope in numbers. Don’t mess with the odds and try to pose us.

Step 2: Really? You are insisting my wild children strategically place their hands on that certain spot on their hip? They are relatively still and looking forward. Be happy. You are tempting the beast here. Snap the photos and dangle some sort of toy. Forget hand placement. We have 3. THREE!

Step 3: Alright. Their hands are on their hip. Since you refuse to dangle a toy over your head to coax a smile, I have resorted to an elf on my shoulder and tickling. Is this really only your 3rd shot in 10 minutes? You don’t need to look at your camera to confirm it is bad. It is. Start shooting and praying lady. All 3 are about to turn.
Step 4: Oh no! It is too late. You’ve released the beasts. The only ones left smiling are Dad, because that is his defense mechanism against feelings of true terror, and Mia, because (as you can see in her eyes), she is just about to release the beast on this poor lady. And no, that is not a smile on my face. I am either fighting back tears or showing my fangs to this lady for ruining my hours of prep work this morning. Why didn’t you just start clicking? Why? There is no turning back now.

Step 5: Really? You think by framing this awful shot in a wreath I am going to pay you extra for it. Really? This is Mad Libs in picture form.