The taking of the holiday family portrait…every family has its own traditions.

Or methods.

I wasn’t going to send out Christmas cards this year. For some reason, it just wasn’t a priority of mine. Which is weird for me, because I’m all about the holiday season. I love to decorate. I love to listen to Christmas music. I love to have people over to entertain and I love going to gatherings of people I see only once a year (or less) anymore. And I also have a special place for all of the darling Christmas cards that are sent my way. It’s a prominent place, right in my entry hall, inviting all guests to thumb through them and comment on the creativity and charm of each one.

Therein lies the problem.

Somewhere, out there, other people flip through other people’s cards and give their opinions–and there are some strong ones–about outfits, locations and cuteness of the subjects portrayed on the cards. If those subjects might possibly include members of my clan, then it’s something I get stressed about, as foolish and needless as that may be.

There’s just such pressure out there, and it gets worse every year! Now, not only is it expected to get an adorable photo of well dressed children, there seems to be some sort of bonus level for upping the ante. People don’t just flip through other friends’ cards, they flip the cards overto see whether the card advertises an expensive local photographer or Walgreens.com (the latter of which I’m a huge fan, by the way).

Well, since I don’t have the money for a trendy photographer with a fast photo lens and since a flip through the photos on my hard drive proved I had less to work with there than money in the bank, I decided it just wasn’t worth the hassle this year. For some odd reason, however, Rob talked me into gathering the boys for an amateur (as in me, with my camera and a glass of wine) photo session in front of the Christmas tree. He promised to amuse and entertain the boys into hysterics, which would enable me to get a shot of all three of them smiling and looking in the same direction. Against my better judgement, I sent them to change into something that was relatively coordinated and that suggested Harvard Law School or Capitol Hill rather than the Pre-tween Boy Slacker Association they were currently sporting. After several minutes of whining (them) and coaxing (me), I finally had three scowling future leaders of America reporting for duty in front of our Christmas tree. I got my camera ready for action as  Rob began some kind of  Ancient Moron Ritual Dance in hopes that all three will burst out laughing. I stood as close to him as possible so it would look like the boys were smiling at the camera instead of laughing at their dad who was making a fool of himself inches away…

Attempt #1: Logan and Ryan are indeed laughing and looking right at the camera. Adam is crawling away like a piglet escaping the pen. Discard.

Attempt #2: Logan is smiling politely at the unseen image of his father banging his chest and making gorilla noises, Adam’s amazement at the ridiculousness factor of his father’s actions might be able to be passed off as childhood wonder of Christmas magic and Ryan is grinning from ear to ear–with his finger right up his nose. Discard.

Attempt #3: Ryan and Adam are both looking especially angelic…Ryan even kind of has his arm around Adam’s shoulder. Awwww. Except that Logan is scowling and has tears of frustration in his eyes because “this is taking too long and this shirt is choking me”. Discard.

Attempts 4-9: It’s really anyone’s guess what’s going on in these shots. They’re too blurred from everyone moving around, plus the fact that the camera lady (read: myself) has been gulping wine from her glass on the side table a little too much at a time and her hands (and nerves) are starting to get a bit shaky. If I were able to produce sound from these shots, one would hear an increasingly hoarse Rob growl like a lion, breathe like Darth Vader and even caw like a crow. All this in hopes that they’ll just smile. At the same time. While looking in the same general direction. And not move even one inch.

Attempt # 10: The only thing that seems to snap here is Rob, who loses his mind, curses, threatens, slams the wall and informs all of them that they’ll sleep in the garage if they don’t get their s–t together.

Which causes them to completely collapse with laughter.

And enables me to get the shot I’d been trying to get for the past hour.

 Happy Holidays from Hillary and Family!

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