No, I am not super-mom, and God is helping me see that idolizing a mother who does not exist is cheating me out of having some gratitude for the blessings He's given me. As we were walking out of the mall last night, I felt defeated. The family two spots in front of us in line walked away with a photo of their four little boys and Santa that could have been in a Norman Rockwell painting. It was not a long line. I had chosen this mall at this time for precisely this reason. Yet still, my children could not stand in line for more than five seconds without seemingly busting out into their Chris-Farley-as-Andrew-Guiliani imitations. Jason and I switched off on taking Peter for short walks, since holding him for any period of time was not an option either. He's thirty pounds, and that is big for his age, yes. And he's SQUIRMY, which means the stroller becomes a death trap in a matter of seconds.
I tried all of my tricks to keep the boys in line. All two of them. "Wow," I said, my voice filled with awe," I LIKE how those FOUR BOYS are listening to their mommy and daddy and waiting SO patiently. THOSE FOUR BOYS are doing an awesome job!" At this point, Nicholas ran over to the gate and screamed "Hi Santa!!!!! I want a Jessie doll and Slink the dog! Santa!" For those of you who have tried to hold the hands of our children long term and ended up gripping sleeves, jacket hoods and even pants loops to keep the kids from running, you might understand that even ten minutes of this is long enough to produce the desire for a frosty cocktail. Bring on trick #2: "We are NOT going to get any pizza at the mall if you don't start behaving and stop screaming right now!" This shut them up and got them in line. For one minute.
Finally, the boys got their Picture with Santa. Peter did not freak out as I had imagined. Owen and Nicholas both got to speak with him. Owen even added Peter's wish list for Santa's review. Santa was REALLY impressed that Peter's wish list was so comprehensive but rather confused as to why it seemed to be a list of toys for a near five year-old. Then picture time came. And went. As you can see from our best selection, it was not the most stellar of years for pictures with Santa, but it will do. What will not do is watching your three year old get seriously ticked off that he is not getting his present from Santa RIGHT NOW! (This happened last Tuesday evening, too, when Santa came down our block on the fire truck -- another awesome experience. Until he was discovered to be presentless.) On went the coats and hats, and off we all went as hastily as we possibly could through the mall crowds and PAST the pizzeria. Once we made it to the van and crept through the parking lot traffic, I was actually glad to go home for dinner. Some microwaved pancakes and eggs are, believe it or not, easier than settling the kids into the pizza joint. Not that I don't wish we could have gone there -- but there are standards! And if you threaten, you've gotta follow through.
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