This year was going to be different. No more running around in pretty yards of perfect strangers and no more sitting at the computer until midnight trying to make sure I spelled Christmas correctly because my photo Groupon was about to expire.
Mama was taking control of the situation.
And by control, I mean I hired a professional.
And, if my memory serves me, it was scheduled all the way back in October. Two entire months before Christmas and one month after I started playing Harry Connick Jr's When My Heart Finds Christmas.
So Andy and I tore through everyone's closets and tried to put together the best matching but not matching outfits we could find. There were piles upon piles of color-coded clothing in our room.
Why is that part so incredibly difficult?
And then the big day arrived and what should come with it? A massive storm. So massive that it blew tree limbs down and there was a single dove that just kept circling our neighborhood searching for signs of life.
I may have embellished that one a little.
I'm reading Genesis right now.
Anyhoo, photo shoot cancelled. Which stunk. Partly because there was no clear time for us to reschedule due to our usual chaos and our friend's (the photographer) own crazy schedule. Partly because it had been three years since we'd had a professional photo taken. But mostly, now I had all these stacks of clothes lying all over my floor.
And the dirty piles had overtaken the clean ones.
But I didn't panic. Because I am the queen of easy going. NO WORRIES. I mean, I've managed to get a Christmas card out all by myself for nearly 6 years now. Pretty sure this isn't going to be a big thing.
Here's the problem with being so relaxed. Sometimes laid back people unearth their calendar while cleaning off the kitchen counter and find it opened to March. Other times, the less aggressive individuals in the world forget that they've yet to take a photo of
her their darling children. Until their husband points it out.
On December 11th.
I've always worked better under pressure anyway. So I found the camera, loaded up the Littles, and went to meet Lainey at her bus stop, which happens to be in the middle of lovely farm land complete with stone fences.
I got this.
Except it was windy. And cold. And for some reason Lainey decided being barefoot was her best option.
I am not exaggerating when I say I only got 7 shots off. Which might as well be zero.
Here's what I had to work with this year:
Well, that is some unfortunate wind, huh Anna? Stop hunching the shoulders girls, it's not that cold.
Oh, Emily. You're killin me, smalls. Killin. Me.
Holy Moses. Does the phrase clear eyes, full hearts mean anything to you people?!?
And did you not hear me when I told you how not cold it was? STOP WITH THE HUNCHING!
Then I said "son of a biscuit, get in the van, I am SO OVER IT"
I was completely filled with good tidings of great joy.
But the story doesn't end there my friends. Oh no sir. Because that very day my friend the photographer, whom we'll call Brittanie*, texted me:
I'm sure you already have Christmas cards, but I'd love to take your Little's pictures at my house if you want! Maybe I could make lunch Sunday and do [it then].
It was a Christmas miracle. Not only had she rescued my dawdling hind end, she OFFERED TO FEED ME.
Sign me up.
I don't care if these turn into St Patrick's Day cards.
A few days later we had brunch at Ms Brittanie's house (I brought juice. And fruit salad. Which I made. Like with a knife.).
And then she did this:
SHUT THE FRONT DOOR! I mean, have you ever? How cute are those sweet things? All of them are looking at the camera. And no one has hair plastered to their face. And if that don't beat all, we were warm during the entire process.
I'm never attempting another Christmas card photo again.
Until next year, when I wait until it's too late to book with the amazing Brittanie Brown.
Maybe I should start looking for that calendar.......
If you're in the central Kentucky area looking for an excellent photographer, let me encourage you to contact my friend (and rescuer of the Green family Christmas card) Brittanie Brown. She's got a fantastic eye, she's great with kids and she made me brunch.
I'm pretty sure that last thing is not part of the normal package.
However, her specialty is newborn photography, which makes me swoon.
Seriously swoon. Like to the point of wanting another sweet, smooshy widdle baby.
You can find Brittanie and some of her work here. But beware of the aforementioned babies. You start looking at them, then next thing you know you're redecorating rooms, reading baby name books and muttering phrases like
what's one more? or
how hard could it be?
It could happen.
*We call her Brittanie because that's her name.