I've been totally caught up in recovering from the Holidays, the family being sick over and over again, planning a move, and trying to get back into a routine of some sort. I feel like Christmas was a total blur but was reminded that it did actually just happen while attempting to organize my digital life. I've vowed to combine and organize 3 laptops, a desk top, and a hard drive worth of pictures and long lost writings into one place. I've gone through 10,000 pictures and that is only one laptop. If my digital life were to take human form it would look like Miley...a big freakin' crazy mess.

Let's get back to these Christmas pictures. Camryn is 1.5 years old give or take a month or two. I can't be concerned with counting months. Last year we went to see Santa and it was pretty uneventful. She sat on his lap, grabbed his beard, we paid for the picture and we were off to the next item on the list for holiday fun.

This year things went just a little differently. 

I prepped Camryn for days talking about Santa and showing her pictures and talking about how nice he is which is what you want to do with kids, right? Here is a stranger. You are going to sit in his lap, even though you don't know him, and you're going to be cool with it, excited even!

I put her in a pretty dress and off we went to see Santa. We got in line and really talked it up.

"Oh my goodness, Camryn! There's Santa! Look how nice he is!"

She looked at him and said, "Anta!" and continued pulling ornaments off of the fake Christmas trees outlining the walkway to Santa's plastic North Pole. She was happy. She was really being the ambassador of the line saying, "HI!" in her squeaky little voice to everyone in line and trying to pass out styrofoam berries that she pulled of the decorations to the other kids.

Hopes were high, not very high but higher than if we were taking her to the Doctor.

We turned the corner and we were closer to Santa...too close. The mood changed. He was bigger than she thought. His beard was whiter than she thought. His outfit was more velvety and redder and cheaper than she thought. We talked him up some more but she wasn't buying it. To hell with being an ambassador to these kids in line..."UP, DADDY, UP!" 

Chris picked her up and she kept a watchful eye on that rat bastard that was doing who knows what in that crazy Dr. Seuss chair. 

Camryn has been cursed with my expressions. No words are necessary. Our faces can be read like a book. This has gotten me in trouble my entire life and it will get her in trouble too. There is nothing that can be done about it. I knew she was starting to freak but trying to play it cool. 

I was so happy that she asked for Chris so HE would have to be the one to hand her off and I could be the one she ran to for comfort. I would save my little girl from that big crazy man and the mean Daddy that just hands her over to a STRANGER for cryin' out loud! Chris never thinks things like this through and I play that to my advantage. SUCKER!

The less than enthused teenager that looked thrilled to be dressed as an elf told us to go ahead. It was our time. 



I have never seen Chris move so fast. He's a meanderer. In fact I'm always telling him to speed it up. Walk faster, move faster, get in the car faster, faster, faster, faster! Now I know he is capable because Camryn was in my arms clinging to me like a baby monkey and Chris was on the other side of this hell hole before I had time to call him a sucker.

Camryn became a hot potato. Chris tossed her on me and I tossed her on Santa.

Santa didn't seem fazed by her but also didn't seem too thrilled to have a wild cat kicking him in the gut to get away. I'm sure he's used to it and maybe a little medicated.

She was with him for less than 30 seconds. 

You think she gives a crap about that little bear being held up for her enjoyment?

She jumped onto me and sunk her claws into my shoulders and then reached for Daddy, the Savior, to get her away from Satan in cheap velour and Mommy who throws her to Satan. 


We paid for the overpriced photo for her to take to her shrink in a few years. We got her the hell away from


which was said with a totally different inflection this time. Not said with joy or excitement but more with pure hatred and fear. 

Throwing a fit of that caliber is exhausting and she was OUT within minutes of getting in her stroller. 

And THAT, my friends, is how Camy visits Santa. I hope you all had a better experience but if you didn't PLEASE share your pictures! I think the screaming pictures are cuter anyway. Does that make me twisted?

Cheers and Happy New Year!