Wow. I haven't blogged anything for three days. Whoops. This means that I didn't record anything about our crazy trip to Target on Wednesday for a family photo (and only spent $13.00-ish bucks for two pictures. Yay! Thanks crazy great coupon.)
Let's remedy that, shall we? Because it is a story that must be told. Alas, you'll have to check back in a week to 10 days to see that part of the story.
So. May I just start by saying that the girls did really well, even Miss Q, during the photo session. I think this was because it was a LITTLE SLICE OF THE HOT PLACE to get us to Target on time, so heaven was smiling on me to help me regroup my sanity. We, incredibly, were only 3 minutes late, which is amazing, considering Super J was power washing the fence (so that we can eventually re stain it and stain the replaced parts) until 10 minutes before departure (I kid not); the girls had been playing all afternoon, and I was trying to time everything so that we could get dressed in our nice clothes but that no one would decide to use markers or sidewalk chalk, etc. etc., as they sometimes are wont to do and get messy, so I started getting everyone dressed (besides me...I'd started earlier) half hour before departure time...which leads me to this little caveat I'd like to share. If you don't make the appointment yourself, be sure to double and triple check with the person who DID make the appointment so you are not thinking it's at 6:30 when, in reality, it's at 6:20. Because no one needs that unpleasant discovery in the car on the way to Target. I'm just saying.
Suffice to say, it was BEDLAM getting everyone ready and into the car, etc. etc. Here's an example of how things were going: Miss O (one can always count on Miss O to give us a good example of how to be frustrating...ah, but we love her still)...um...yeah, so Miss O is ready, tights are on, shoes are on, and I have just wet down her hair and brushed it. So far, so good.
Me: Go get in the car, everyone! Buckle to the best of your ability!
Miss O: I need my heavy coat! (ie: her baby pink colored warm winter coat with hood, which she insist on having zipped up, Velcro-ed together, and "hat ON!" every time we leave the house)
Me: You don't need your coat (seriously! It was 65 degrees out)!
Miss O: I need my heavy coat! I need my heavy coat! I need my heavy coat! (she'll repeat until someone responds. Drives me to the edge, it does)
Me: (in exasperated tone) You don't need your heavy coat! It's in the back of the Red Rocket (which is true. It was. Because it was 65 degrees out and we'd tossed it back there)
Miss O: It's in the Red Rocket?
Miss O: Ohhhh.
She departs, only to return with her lighter blue wool sweater coat.
Miss O: I need this coat! I need this coat!
Me: (sigh.) Okay, whatever.
Miss O: Zip it up!!! (because, after all this time working with her pink heavy coat and her neon green windbreaker, I don't know that I'm to zip up coats, I guess)
I zip up the coat.
Me: Go get in the car and buckle up.
Miss O: (happily) Okay.
We are finally ready to get the baby (ie: last passenger) into the car. I see Miss O is NOT in the car, but standing and smiling broadly at me in her blue wool sweater coat wearing an off white stocking cap.
Miss O: I have my hat on!
I try to take the hat off.
Screaming and wailing begins. Miss O shoves the hat I'd taken off and placed on table back on head. I try to think of my love and logic parenting book and what they, oh infinitely wiser parents, would do and I let her leave her hat on and then we head out to Target, only a little on the frazzled side of things.
It's only once we get to Target and remove her coat and hat that I realize something. I realize that I'd forgotten that I'd wet her hair down before this whole thing had begun. I am able to realize this because Miss O has a RAGING case of Hat Head Hair, which is now dried into hat head hair place.
I brought a brush and feverishly try to fix it. Hmmmm. It only makes it FRIZZY hat head hair.
It turns out that frizzy hat head hair Miss O is the least of my worries about the pictures, upon previewing them. Actually, the two pictures we selected turned out pretty good...except that my bosom in the one Super J likes best is like a poorly hung shelf on the wall, my shirt somehow caught under said bosom, which makes for a indisputable line across my chest like a very very thin sash, as it is also sloping in a diagonal line in the most unattractive manner. Does it matter that Super J and I are holding Miss Q and so they are shifted because of that? No. It doesn't matter, at least not to me. It is glaring to me. Glaring and unsightly. But, heck, we got it anyway.
So, when I see the picture, these are the things I see: frizzy hat head hair and sloping bosom shelf line.
And when get the pictures and I post them, you'll have to let me know what YOU see.
Silver lining: at least we got a family picture, and that's saying something.