I’m a firm believer in not stressing about Christmas cards. If it happens it happens, if it doesn’t, it doesn’t. You just can’t cram everything into the end of the year.

Yes, everybody would love a recent photo (or illustration!) of your family but if it means tearing your hair out trying to get the family together all at one time and smiling and you end up feeling more Grinchish than Christmasish, then it’s just not worth it, right? You just gotta give up and give in some years. You can’t win them all.

This year I thought it would be nice if Bug and I had a photo together but I didn’t have my hopes up. It’s been harder and harder to take photos of myself that I actually like. Bug always looks like a million bucks but me, I’m kinda scary sometimes.

I used to take photos of us together every day that I liked. Now, I’m lucky if I get one a month. I think the last photo that I liked of myself was at Halloween and I was wearing green makeup. That’s not really going to work for a Christmas card.

The last time I was down in San Diego visiting Bethany I asked her if she could snap a few of us and then I promptly forgot about it. I thought we’d get a photo by a Christmas tree when we were visiting Old Town but it didn’t happen. It was late when we were there and the kids were squirrely. It just didn’t happen.

But then right before we were about to leave, the sun was shining in Bethany’s backyard in that really pretty way and Bethany said, let’s just take a few photos and see if one comes out. I didn’t brush my hair, we didn’t put on any special outfits. We just went outside, sat on her wood steps and wham, bam, thank you ma’am. Bethany took six shots. I glanced at them briefly on the back of her camera and we were done.

Take One

Two, Three,

Four, Five.

Merry Christmas! We have a winner!

It’s funny. I know it’s a good picture. I love the light. Bethany is a great photographer. I just hate my hair. It’s like I’ve never seen a brush or a blow dryer in my life. I was fretting over it for days. I kept asking Bug if she thought it was a good picture when finally Bug just stopped me and looked me in the eye and said, “Mom, it’s a good photo. You look really really beautiful. I mean it.”

And then I believed her because if anything, she is brutally honest with me. She’s the one who tells me that I have a great big bongo butt and bad breath and that my outfits are dorky. So if she thinks I look beautiful with ratty tatty hair, then I must.