So, some of you may remember my post about trying to get mother’s day pictures a few weeks ago.

http://familiesonly.com/Community/blogs/overdad/archive/2008/06/05/a-picture-is-worth-not-nearly-the-amount-of-stress-it-takes-to-get-one.aspx

Well, the holiday had passed, but the idea still seemed like a good one.  Besides, I had spent all that money buying stupid matching clothes.  So I decided to brave the winds of insanity once again.  I gave the kids baths, dressed them up in their cute little outfits, and headed off to the picture place. 

When we arrived, all three kids were in a good mood, but I could see it starting to slip.  Micah was starting to fuss.  Asher kept asking for things to eat.  Audra fell into her usual habit of preening in front of adults in hopes that they would complement her. 

We sat there and sat there, waiting to be called out.  I wanted to yell out, “Hurry up!  Can’t you see the window is closing?  Can’t you see that my children are about to turn from adorable angels into balls of tears and snot and hair pulling?”

Eventually they called us, but before we even got back to the studio, I knew it was too late.  The window was officially closed and someone had already started to paint it shut.  The best we could do was take picture through the window at what my children could have looked like.  It would be a little blurry, but it was worth a shot, and because I’m an idiot, we tried anyway.  Audra was doing great.  Her illness induced droopy eye was gone.  Asher was even doing ok, but Micah was toast.  30 minutes past nap time, he couldn’t sit still and if anyone tried to make him, screams and tears were his answer – a very effective answer at that.

We took several photos.  I would position Micah, coax a smile out of him and then jump clear of the camera, all to no avail.  Inevitably, Micah would change from smiles to anguish, Asher would choose that moment to study the ceiling tiles, or the photographer would decide to wait a half second to long, providing me a horribly accurate picture of my tired, hungry, cranky children instead of the deceptive one I wanted that portrayed them as eternally peaceful, loving and pleasant - like Shirley Temple on quaaludes.

Eventually I turned to the 15 year old photographer and told her to stop wasting her pixels.  We rescheduled for two hours later, I squeezed Micah into a sling (yeah, I still carry my 11 month old in a sling.  You got a problem with that?  It’s sort of like stuffing a sausage, but he likes it).  Micah promptly fell asleep, exhausted from all of his hard work disrupting the family photo.  We walked around, we had lunch and two hours later I had appreciably happier children.  Asher, of course had a big stain on his pants and Micah’s hair was sticking up in odd places, but they were, once again, reasonably pleasant looking kids.

We went back to the studios and I watched as that window started to close again, but luckily we got the photos taken before it closed completely.  They’re not going to win any awards, but they won’t cause CPS to show up at my door either, so all in all I’d call them a success. 

Of Course, they can't all be winners: