Say Cheese!

The annual Christmas card photo dilemma was upon us again! I don't know why, but every year I think, "we simply must have a wonderful photo to put on our Christmas card!" Every year I set about the morning of the photo getting kid(s) ready: a bath, ironing clothes, drying hair, applying hair products. Really, I should just give it up.

This year, I had the bright idea of going to the St. Paul Conservatory for the photos. I thought it would be nice to get a picture in the "sunken garden" room, which always has a beautiful arrangement for seasonal flowers. This year was no different. The garden was filled with thousands of Poinsettias--truly gorgeous!

After admiring the beautiful flowers, we set about to make an equally beautiful photo of our children. This was not so easy. Poor Wilson, I forgot when I was dressing Wilson in an adorable snowman sweater that the Conservatory is a greenhouse and thus very warm. Although, his warmth really did not stop his desire to, shall we say, "explore" his surroundings. His explorations could not be stopped even when it was most undesirable, like when we needed him to stay still for a picture.

Here are a couple examples:

Claudia and Wilson also saw a number of things that they needed to draw our attention to, which of course, requires pointing:

Finally, there was the general pulling and pushing that siblings must now and then inflict at inopportune moments:

We did manage to find a couple of photos that worked--out of the 176(!) that we took. When you receive your Christmas card from us this year, you will notice that none of the photos on the card have both Claudia and Wilson smiling at the camera at the same time, but now you know that it wasn't from a lack of effort on the part of their parents.

Next year, it's going to be a text-only card!

Stylin'

It goes a little something like this every morning at the Walker household: Claudia wakes up, walks to the bottom of the stairs leading up to our room and flicks on the (very, very bright) overhead light in our room. She says, "Mom, come down here now. I want my breakfast and can you turn on my show?"

After my eyes adjust to the blinding light, I get out of bed. We get breakfast and then we go into Claudia's room. She picks out her outfit. I try to steer her in certain directions (mostly unsuccessfully), like to avoid too many competing patterns or to wear weather-appropriate clothing. I hold firm to not allowing her to wear just shorts in the cold, although she can wear shorts over her pants, which she does (often).

Then we sit down to do her hair. She sits on one of her white chairs and I spray detangler and try to comb without pulling too hard. (Lord, I remember my mom or dad just about giving me migraines when they did my hair when I was little--didn't they have detangler?!?)

Wilson is normally up for this routine. He busies himself in a number of (un)constructive ways, like pulling out all of Claudia's clothes from her drawers or putting things in his mouth that just shouldn't go there. Well, that is until recently. Now Wilson has become a surprisingly willing participant in the morning beauty routine.

Here's a visual representation of the routine:

First, you spray the detangler:

Then you brush:

It always helps to applaud your stylist:

Final product: ADORABLE!