I have yet to only have one visit to Santa per year.
Except the year Hads was almost one.
That was a slam dunk.
She slept in the stroller, was plopped on his lap, woke up, everyone smiled.
Done and done.
Otherwise, every other year, I swear we have gone multiples times to see St. Nick.
I am nuts.
And I am not sure why.
(Ryan my have a few ideas).
My internal struggle is that I love the Downtown Santa.
Love.
But I don't love the line.
I abhor it.
I think it is absolutely ridiculous. I couldn't even imagine waiting 3-5 hours, in a line, with two small kids. Insanity. Pure insanity.
So I boycott it...only to wish with all my heart that I just planned ahead a little and made the trek to the big city to see the big man.
And this year was no different than the last four.
I went elsewhere, only to lament over where I didn't go.
So on a random Tuesday I packed both kids in the car at 7am, we headed to the city, got our Starbucks, and we were third in line to see the 'real' Santa.
And I was pleased as punch.
And they are beginning to think it is normal to have 3 Santa visits a year.
And I am cerifitably insane.
But hey, if they end up in prison, at least they won't be able to blame it on their Santa pictures.
Just on their mother.
SANTA. TAKE ONE.
I don't like his sleigh (never have), I don't like that neither kid was on his lap, and I don't like that my kids look like total 'tards (or at least...more than usual).
SANTA. TAKE TWO.
So we tried it again. I don't know if the picture of these two hooligans is any better...but the experience was. And that made me happy.
And I am all that matters.