What REALLY goes on behind the scenes of those cute holiday photo cards? Well let me tell ya...

It's time for another installment of Chicky Family Christmas Pictures!

*Thundering cheers*

*Smattering of polite applause?*

*Fine, one lady in the back who wandered in thinking this was a sewing circle and is too embarrassed to leave. Hey lady, there's coffee in the back. Help yourself.*

If you're new to this blog you should know I have a history with photo Christmas cards. I tend to set the bar a little too high for myself, not considering the two sentient beings who are the focus of each card. They have opinions too. And their opinions suck.

But photo cards must be done and they must be perfect! For they are the only proof my children occasionally smile and love each other! Black eyes and scrapes that I Photoshop out notwithstanding.

This year's Christmas card photo session was held over two days. The first, Caroline was having nothing to do with it and screamed the entire time. The second, Caroline was having nothing to do with it and screamed the entire time. The distinction, the first day Caroline was overtired and had a head cold. The second she was being Caroline. Big difference.

On the first day we tried to take pictures of them together:

I will not smile but I will insist on holding this 8 year old dog toy that has been sitting outside for the past year. Later I will lick it when I think you're not looking.

Grimacing is almost like smiling, right?

I believe this move is called the "Step Off, Beeyotch. I'm swinging here."

On day two is was very cold but we decided to push on anyway. You know where this is going right?

I... don't know what to say.

Except, thanks dog! The random tail in the picture gives it visual interest, dontcha think?

I could go on. Forever. But I won't because I'm tired of uploading pictures to gawd damn Blogger.

We tried to take individual pictures, too. We got dozens of pictures like this from Miss I LOVE the camera! Take more pictures of ME:


And we got hundreds of pictures like this of Miss I AM A FIRESTARTER AND ANYONE WHO ANGERS ME SHALL DIE:

Actually, that was a good one. The other ones would eat your computer from the inside.

But in the end, we got our shot and the cards were created and ordered. And there they sit, on my counter, until Santa sends me some of his elves to help address them. Should be any day now.

See? Perfect children being perfectly perfect. No one will ever know! Bwahahahaha! Except all of my friends who read this blog. Shit.

I may have included a little surprise on the back. I just couldn't resist this picture.

But honestly, who could?

We interupt this blog with a special "I Hate Mother's Day" announcement...

I still don't like Mother's Day very much.

However...

There are others who hate it with a white hot fiery passion for reasons only they can explain and those people deserve to be recognized.

*getting on my (wee, tiny) soapbox*

*really, it's more like a palette than a box*

*okay fine, it's a bath mat*

Last year I wrote this post about my feelings about this upcoming Sunday.

(If you haven't figured out what this Sunday is, that would be Mother's Day. Please catch up and don't forget to hold onto your travel buddy's hand. Wouldn't want you to get lost again. Poor dear.)

Since then, many, many people have Googled the words "I Hate Mother's Day" and have ended up here. To you random web searchers, may I offer you a hearty welcome and a scone? Because gurrl, we've all got some issues to work out, now don't we?

As I said last year, I am more than happy to open up this safe place as a virtual support group for fellow pseudo-holiday-for-those-of-the-maternal-persuasion haters. Please, if you're here because you found your fingers flying over your keyboard in a fit of rage, feel free to vent 'til your heart's content.

(Ooh, that rhymed. Sweet.)

You obviously need a space to express your feelings about your mom, your wife, your husband/boyfriend/baby daddy, or yourself and motherhood as a whole. I applaud you for having the guts to write it out, even if you did so anonymously. I hope it helped a little. Here, that scone wasn't very big. Have a cookie.

If, however, you feel more comfortable lurking in the shadows might I suggest you have a gander at some other, very passionate comments on that post and know you are not alone.

Or if you're one of those well-adjusted types - I hear rumors of that strange breed walking amongst us, those with not a hint of chip on their shoulder or darkness in their heart - maybe you could impart some wisdom upon those of us who would like a glimpse into the mind of someone who doesn't go through the day with a grudge, a whimper or a sigh.

As for me, when I used the word "hate" I may have overstated my feelings. Mother's Day makes me sad and I hate to be sad, but I can't hate a day set aside to honor those women who nurture and love those in their care either through biology or other avenues. I can hate the hype but I don't hate the day. Besides, today is beautiful and it's hard to muster such strong feelings of loathing when the sun is shining and the air is warm.* And my husband sent me cupcakes. Diamonds may be a girl's best friend but cupcakes make me smile too. They don't make me sparkly but they make my stomach happy.

So please, go, vent, bitch, cry... Whatever you need to do. Or leave kind, reassuring words. It's all very cathartic, ain't it?



*If you're wondering where the glass-is-half-empty Tania is, come see me tomorrow when it's dark and stormy and I have a cupcake tummy ache. I don't think this life is beautiful crap is going to stick.