I’ve had some amount of anxiety about how to start posting here again. Do I attempt an explanation about my absence — ahem, global pandemic — or do I just start posting like I’ve been doing it all along? It’s 4:30 in the morning and I’ve been awake for hours, so I figured I might as well spend my time wisely.
Because of COVID, our usual Santa spot was something else entirely. While I wasn’t keen on having the kids sit on a stranger’s lap, among throngs of other grubby kids, I also didn’t want a plexiglass barrier or a weird replacement activity this year. At the very last minute, I decided to book a session with a local photographer (who also happens to be my cousin!) shooting at a nearby Christmas tree farm. It still wasn’t the best idea, but it was outside, with limited guests, and the girls wore their masks right up until having their photos made. It’s been two weeks and we’re all still healthy, so I’m going to consider this a “bad idea in the time of quarantine” that happened to work out perfectly.
You know what else also turned out perfectly? Polly’s second round of crying Santa photos.
She had been so excited leading up to our visit with Santa. She wore a smocked Christmas gown for hours the night before and cried when I took it off for bed. She couldn’t stop talking about seeing Santa at the farm and was grinning and giggly, right up until the last moment. The closer we got to the big guy, the tighter her legs became around my waist. I had to peel her off of me and the photographer could barely snap pictures for laughing so hard. She recovered quickly and couldn’t wait to tell her daddy all about how she cried. Maybe we’ll have better luck next year?
Gosh, I hope not.
