Yuletide Transparency

I've exposed my poor mother to the horror that is photographing the Andrews family.

I don't know why I keep trying, or why I think it will be any different each time we pull out the camera and attempt to make ourselves look agreeable.  And so, in the interest of full disclosure, I will let you know that this Christmas card photo session made Pumpkin Patch 2012 look like a stroll through the... well, pumpkin patch.

Here is what you can expect when taking pictures of my family (so please remind me when I try to take some pictures in February for home-made Valentines, or some other equally hare-brained idea):

• My children will not look at the camera, OR
• My children will fuss and cry and scream, OR
• My children will look like lifeless, creepy dolls, OR
• My children will smile and look at the camera, but the settings will be off OR
• My children will smile and look at the camera, but the memory card will be full AND
• I will always be captured trying to resolve the above problems AND
• Koby will be the most photogenic and cooperative model of the group.

My emotions will follow this cycle: optimism, determination, frustration, exasperation, defeat, depression, hilarity.  Rinse, lather, repeat.  (I am woman, hear me roar.)
 
Knox has no interest in being held while out-of-doors, but since even the litter-ridden lake in our town is still cleaner than my living room, out-of-doors remains the only place we can take good pictures.  Koby was literally physically restraining Knox in all of the pictures, and Knox was putting up a good fight.  (Those cute poses where Koby has Knox on his shoulder weren't so cute in real life as Knox was kicking the tar out of Koby in efforts to get down.)

The lake and its wonder is beckoning to Knox, who valiantly reaches in vain with a cry of "UURGGHHHAAHHHH".

In between bids for freedom, Knox would become distracted by leaves/sticks/litter. 

Oh, and don't be alarmed by Hayes pretending to be a terrifyingly limp blob.  I assure you, he's perfectly fine.  So just ignore the next picture.

Of course, every once in awhile the stars would align and we'd get a GREAT pose. 

Unfortunately, the part that looks really great is the background in perfect focus.

Wonderful shot of the November foliage of Bryson, Texas.

I may or may not have given up after about 15 minutes of trying to get "just one good shot" for our Christmas card.  I may or may not have declared that we will "never take any more pictures, ever" after my mom sweetly and quietly offered to take us to lunch and then try some more poses.  I think I said "I'm done" about 500 times.  (Dramatic, much?)  Koby and I laughed all the way home, and seriously threw around the option of choosing the very worst shot for our card this year.  Even though this IS the more accurate albeit less flattering Yuletide Greeting, enjoy it here because it won't be gracing your mailboxes this holiday season.

THANK YOU MOM for taking pictures under increasing pressure and for not pointing out that I was throwing a bigger fit than my toddler son.

Why do I keep subjecting my family to this torture?  Why do I want to get sickeningly sweet pictures that in no way reflect our day-to-day life, which actually involves a lot of hysterical laughter, poop, and laundry?  Why, fellow mommies, why???

If you'd like to see the shots that survived as Christmas card candidates it at the expense of my family's sanity, you can visit our Facebook album.