The Short Version...

It is fall. Evelyn turned six months old and her smile is as bright as ever. Isaac is cuteness personified.



All of this means one thing....a trip to the portrait studio.



Seriously, I should make a large sign that reads, "DO NOT ATTEMPT TO HAVE PROFESSIONAL PICTURES TAKEN OF YOUR CHILDREN. IT IS NEVER FUN." and hang it on my bathroom mirror. Somehow I have picture studio amnesia and forget how previous experiences were less than stellar. I then proceed to dress my children in their finest and march our little family to the closest studio to capture such preciousness on film for eternity.



I know the basics of having a successful photo shoot: The children must be well-rested, recently fed, and schedule appointments for "slow" periods of the week.



Check.



Yet, the basics were not enough today. I believe we were in the studio for over two hours for a 15 minute photo shoot, which generated sub-par pictures. The photographer's creative image was to photograph Evelyn holding a yellow slinky. It didn't really jive that well with her smocked dress, brown Mary Jane's, and perfectly placed bow. Isaac was quite willing to have his picture made at first, but after waiting 45 minutes, he had since changed his mind and opted instead to try and touch everything in the waiting area 52 times while singing "Jingle Bells" loudly (Thank you, retail gods, for feeling the need to break out the Christmas decor before we celebrate Thanksgiving. It inspires my child to sing "Jingle Bells" and ask multiple times a day when "it be Christmas?".).

The photo shoot came to a screeching halt when Evelyn toppled over backwards and bonked her sweet head (She is still working on the sitting thing, but is actually quite good.) She cried, then Isaac cried because he somehow got his fingers stuck in the cursed yellow slinky. I then had two crying children and had to decide whether to sit by a mother peacefully nursing her baby or a mother holding a sleeping newborn while we waited to view our pictures. We opted for the nursing mother, whose child immediately stopped eating in order to check out the noise next to him. (Many apologies were given and the Mom was super cool about the whole incident.).

Fast forward almost an hour....we had finally received our pictures (after being told multiple times, "Just five more minutes."). Evelyn had reached the melting point and was crying loudly while Isaac was pacified with the lunch I had snagged him from the food court. I am rapidly pushing the stroller towards the exit, counting the seconds until we are safe in our car while mentally detailing exactly how my complaint call will go to the picture studio's customer service hotline, when something jumps in front of our stroller. By "something" I mean a very old (yet quite mobile), very scary lady. This lady then pulls up the sunshade, which is concealing a crying Evelyn, and proceeds to make loud, odd noises in my child's face with one of the most disturbing facial expressions I have ever seen. Isaac then started crying while Evelyn increased her cries to a high-pitch wail. The lady then proceeds to tell me, "These children need a nap." (and likely some intense therapy after such an encounter with her).

I tell her that is exactly where we are headed and keep pushing the stroller. I told Tobe I don't even know if I hit the lady or not (she was standing directly in front of us). I just pushed and kept on walking, never turning around for fear the lady was laying on the ground with a broken hip.

Because Isaac is singing Jingle Bells about once every half hour, I am reminded that Christmas is rapidly approaching. Christmas means velvet, red smocked dresses, and black corduroy pants. Someone please stage an intervention before I once again have picture studio amnesia and drag my poor children in for festive holiday photos. Send me this post in the mail as a reminder and tell me to call this girl.

(By the way, aren't you glad you got the short version? Poor Tobe was fortunate enough to hear the long, detailed story complete with dramatic hand gestures and side rants.)