Fourteen years ago, Sam was two months old and Alex and I were looking to do Santa right. We spent significant brain power making sure that he had the best first visit with Santa possible. We checked with all the parents we knew to find out which Santa was The Best Santa and we ended up driving, like, an hour away to a mall where we had heard that The Best Santa worked.
We dressed Sam in a powder blue one-piece sweater and coordinated our visit with his naptime to ensure the best possible photo.
I wish I had the photo handy. It was adorable.
Also, that visit was pretty much meaningless to Sam.
This past weekend, we stopped our three visibly dirty children in the middle of a front-lawn wrestle match to stuff them in the car and take them to Santa, complete with dirt stains and twigs in their hair.
It’s a trip to think of everything that has changed over the past fourteen years. One of those changes is definitely a willingness to let little things like perfection in Santa photos go.
In addition to our annual visit to Santa last weekend, we also made our annual visit to the local rescue squad that sells us our Christmas tree. Because we like to do things wrong, we arrived at the tree lot well before they opened for the day.
Fortunately, there was an EMT there who was more than happy to give us a tour of their trucks and explain all of the gear and medicines and also how drug dealers really don’t care about their customers.
It was totally awesome.
The kiddos also killed some time by hiding in the trees, which they tend to do every year.
Naturally our tree was far too big for our limited corner space, but oh so very beautiful.
Things change, yes, but I think they’re getting ever better.