santa baby.

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.