Blinded by the Light



 A few days before Christmas, The Today Show aired a filler parenting segment titled, A Parent's Guide to the Holidays from their ongoing series Parenting Tips for Those Who Have Been Parenting Under A Rock or Parenting for Those Who Cannot Think for Themselves. Matt Lauer interviewed a panel of experts consisting of a magazine editor from a popular family magazine, a lifestyle expert, and some fat guy (I am not being insulting here, this is how he introduced himself) who wrote a book with a self- deprecating title. The theme was At What Age is it Acceptable to _____________? At what age is it acceptable to let your teenager get drunk with you on New Year's Eve? At what age is it acceptable to pull the rug out from under your unsuspecting child's feet and let them know the truth about that jolly visitor from the North Pole? And, here is my favorite, at what age is it acceptable to stop taking family pictures? The answer was a resounding: when it ceases to be enjoyable. Hmmm, are we there yet? Thank goodness for the wisdom that The Today Show bestows upon me because I honestly thought, as you may remember from my previous posts on the subject, that family photos were an acceptable form of child abuse and torture.

In our family, we extend the tribulation to visiting relatives. See Exhibit A below. This is a sketch of my  sister, her husband and my two lovely nephews who were visiting from Las Vegas. They had only been in Buffalo for 24 hours and the boys were still on Vegas (Begas, as my 2 year old nephew, G calls it) time. My sister had not gotten any sleep the night before from trying to settle the boys. They were out of sorts from having missed their naps. Yet, it was imperative to my family to catch a shining Christmas Eve moment with all four of them. Look at how the little one, my nephew Lu, is fighting and giving up at the same time as he tries to contort his body and become dead weight in his mother's arms. Most of the 200 photos captured G, in his Michael Cera haircut, with his head down, clawing his way out of his father's grip.

I wanted a portrait of  H, my Dad, and me. "Ooh, ooh! Let me!" offered First Born Son enthusiastically. Like a kitten sidetracked by a ball of tinsel, First Born Son was mesmerized by the camera flash. Or, he was spellbound by a novel way to annoy me. He started giggling sadistically at the outcome of his picture taking, a series of images with our heads cut off, our mouths distorted as we pleaded, "Stop! Stop! I'm going blind!" Our eyes uneven and squinty. I tried to push through the blinding light which singed all of my senses; and, I pawed helplessly, hopelessly at him trying to recover my camera. But, he contined to dance around just outside of my grasp. I was so disoriented, but I thought I heard him singing, "That's what you get! That's what you get! For all of those years, doing us wrong with your camera lens!"


These are the kinds of photos you get when you hand your camera to a teenager who is out for revenge.


On the final day of my sister's visit, we gathered the kids together. There are six grandkids. If I thought that trying to get a photo of four kids was difficult, six kids is impossible. The Baby was one hour past done. G was too rambunctious from eating a dinner of cookies, with more cookies, and some fudge. H was antagonizing First Born Son by showing him affection. And Princess Commando shouted out through the clicking and snapping of 4 cameras with flashes on, "Ugh! The paparazzi!!"

If six kids is impossible, then eleven people and Simba is just plain silly. But, we did it anyway.

And, because, we like to learn things on our own time and the definition of "enjoyable" is subjective, we'll probably do it again next year.

Would You Frickin Smile Already?

If it was up to me, I would not even send out a holiday photo with our Christmas cards. With Facebook and other photo sharing websites, I feel that my out of town relatives already have a window into our world that normally would be shuttered by geographical distance. There is nothing that this one photograph will tell them  that they have not been able to figure out over the past 11 months of viewing my online photo album. But, my family continues to put pressure on us- to keep up this tradition of torment. It is a legacy of torture that has been passed down from my grandparents to my parents to me. I am getting that sickish feeling in my gut now as I recall our photo sessions at Olan Mills photography studios- with my curly hair brushed out vigorously by my mother into an unseemly, bell shaped bob. On any other given day, my kids will ham it up for my camera. As long as they are allowed to make screwy, laughable faces, they are all in. I prefer those expressions. But, on family photo day, they look like prisoners of a juvenile detention center.

I gave them fair warning that we would be taking pictures before we left for my mother's house for Thanksgiving dinner. It is one of the few occasions when they all are semi-dressed up. I reminded them through out the day to be ready because I wanted this to be quick and painless. One of the boys asked what they would get as a reward for cooperating. Reward, are you kidding me? Cooperation means that you escape punishment. But, in typical fashion, as soon as The Mr. and I started to assemble the children on our tattered couch, Princess Commando put on the brakes. I have never heard another human make such dead- on animal growl protests. Once she starts, they all get ornery because they know that what could have been taken care of in five minutes with good old fashioned acquiescing was now going to be an epic battle of wills. First Born Son was ready to order a Hazmat shower from being forced to sit next to his brother for more than 5 minutes. And, he kept talking to Princess Commando through is teeth while trying to maintain a smile for the camera, "Would you just frickin' smile already?! Don't you want this to end?!" Right on schedule, the resistance and irritation quickly gave way to tears.

Oh, surprise, someone is missing from this picture. H held his pose through it all. He knows that willingly participating will earn him valuable points. And, he'll become the favorite child for the day.

The baby looks concerned because this is what was going on in the other room...

Oh, the drama! The tears! You would think that she had been abused and beaten. I threw up my hands and told them, "Forget it!" Those words broke the evil magic spell that had been cast over them. They fled from the couch as quickly as if they had discovered it was on fire. I could not "Forget it" though. I was stewing on the short ride to my mother's house. The tirade of anger spilled forth from my lips. I suppose they have come to expect it, as no one even flinches at my bitterness. And then I wind down with a sprinkle of guilt, "I do so much for you. I do not ask you for much in return. Just one damn family photo where you at least look like you love each other. So, we are going to try again at Nana's house." They all grumbled in reluctant agreement.

But we did not stand a chance with my aunts and uncles walking around, interjecting criticisms of my children's forced expressions of love. "You all look like you are in pain," one of my aunts observed. And then, Princess Commando lost it when my Uncle M said to her (as I just got them all to look in my direction, mind you), "Let's see who can make the ugliest face," without the slightest pause for her to respond, "Uh- you won!"

I made one more attempt on Friday as our Day After Thanksgiving Thanksgiving Turkey was roasting in the oven. I know, I was asking for more trouble and heartache. They did not disappoint. But there was a small miracle. Princess Commando consented merrily. Her brothers were a different story. I am tempted to settle on this image.

But, I don't think my family will appreciate it. They will be receiving this heavily Photoshopped image in their Christmas cards. So, hang that on your fridge with your Mom and Pop Pizza Shop magnet, Family!

Now, I am on to the task of creating the illustration for the front our Christmas cards. At least, in this scenario, the children in my illustration all get along and cooperate for their mother.

Holiday Family Photo

As the winter holidays are swiftly approaching I am feeling that anxious tightening in my chest about taking our annual holiday family picture. I expect that I will attempt to take 1000 photos this weekend in the hopes that one- all I need is one!- photo will at least capture everyone looking in the same direction. Typically, 2 of the 3 are cooperating and I have to crop and paste the 3rd child's head from another photo and work some Photoshop magic. For an added challenge this year, we've included a 4th child. What were we thinking? The illustration from my blog header (which I have also included below) is the image I ended up using for the front of our 2006 Christmas card. The interior said something to the effect: May the joy of the season and the warmth of family and friends surround you during the holidays and through out the New Year. Princess Commando refused to participate. Why should I falsify my photo documentation of that holiday photo shoot? The truth of this particular holiday tradition is that it is no fun. There is a lot of huffing and eye rolling from the kids and I counter that with threats and bribes. It sounds a little something like this:

Press the shirts

Tame the hair

Wipe the snot and crumbs off of the face

Instruct the children:

Sit in the light-the camera won’t work otherwise.

Sit up straight.

No, up straight!

Stop touching your sister.

Move in to the left.

No, my left.

Stop wiggling

Smile!

Come on now, smile!

You, middle child, you look like you’re dying.
Now smile!

This isn’t working.

Let’s rearrange

Oh, little one, stop crying

You can sit where you were before- when we’re done.

Just a few more- I promise.

We’re doing this because this is what families do for their holiday cards.

You don’t want to be the only family who doesn’t send out a holiday photo.

I don’t care that you don’t care!

Sit back down!

Stop crying!

For God’s sake!

ARGHHHHHH!

Why can’t you all cooperate for one hour out of the year?

A half hour?
(Sweetly)You can play the Wii if you cooperate.

Santa’s not coming if you don’t cooperate!

Fine!!!!

This is the one we’re using!


I think I might just let them do what they want this year. I gave up trying to get them to wear coordinated outfits 3 years ago. Last year is a blur- but I think they might have been in pajamas they had been wearing for two days over a weekend. And, amazingly, I did not have to crop out anyone's head.

When I started this blog, I had every intention of creating one illustration/ day. Obviously, raising kids sometimes ties up my hands. I feel badly that I've cheated and reused an image. I'll get back to illustrating something new- soon. I'm still recuperating from sick baby week.