“I know it’s all about the photo op, but my girls wanted to tell you what they’d like for Christmas first.”
Yes. That’s what I snarked at Santa. I was pissed off. I thought I was smart getting to the mall on a weekday when it opened. I was promptly tossed a blinking pager and told to stroll the mall for an hour until it buzzed. Are you joking? What is this, Disney World? An hour later we got back to Santa only to find a line. A line that would take another 35 minutes of waiting. Luckily my mom came along, so I had her get the girls some lemonade and a hot pretzel to entertain them and keep the “hangries” at bay.
It’s finally time. For all of her excitement, Shaye got nervous. REALLY nervous. Even as a baby she was a little shy at first around strangers, she isn’t the ballsy bossy pants that Brinn is. So she hesitated for a second. In that one second, Santa was up off the chair, practically charging at her. He rounds the girls up and heads over to the chair, and begins hollering demands at his “elves”.
“Put her here, set her on this knee, turn the camera like that….” Kid you not, he was not going to say more than hello to them before having this picture churned and out and could be on to the next kid. Isn’t the whole point of going to see Santa to deny that you’ve been hell on wheels all year and beg for some toy you saw on a commercial? Hey Santa? CHILL OUT. He was a little stunned, understandable. Only Heather yells at Santa. But the girls did have a few gift requests (pillow pets, candy and a hamster- that’s another story), and had been so excited to see him, not to mention I waited for an hour and 45 minutes for their 2 minutes of Christmas glory, and managed to blow $200 on shoes they may or may not have needed while waltzing aimlessly through the mall.
Either way, the girls did get what they asked Santa for, we got this cute picture, and maybe Santa remembered to ask a few other kids what they wanted this year, instead of solely focusing the business of pictures.
Above is the link to the article and interview.
Ever week on Martha Stewart’s website, they feature someone who turned their dream into a reality. It was pretty cool to be picked, since they only pick one a week for the year.
Not gonna lie that I was super excited, flattered and a shocked to be chosen.
Come on, it’s MARTHA. She is to baking what The Beatles are to music.
I’ll admit it. A few years ago when I was a “fanatical, cloth diapering, organic only buying, breastfeeding warrior” I hated Walmart. I loathed Walmart. I also didn’t have one located near my house. I would watch documentaries from my couch while nursing the baby, claiming that “Yes! as soon as I quit nursing I too would be vegan, mass chicken product banning, only organic product, looking for every cause to better the world” person. I stuck my nose up at Walmart as if it was the most vile place on earth, because I had seen the documentary telling me to hate it. They treat their workers like shit, put small businesses out of business, suck suck suck all around.
And then they opened one down the street. Brand new. A little bit environmentally friendly. Clean. Organized. AND CHEAP. The economy tanked, every one was panicked, and I needed to cut corners like everyone else. So I went into Walmart.
Now you can’t get me out. They carry organic now. The clothes are a better quality. See my cute $3 hat? I ran into the store for an electrical cord, and took a picture of the $3 clearance purchase. And even if I knew how to knit, there’s no way in hell I would manage to make a hat for $3. You might be able to, but I would spend 10xs that by the time I got it right- and my right would not be a standard worth of wearing. If you catch my drift.
So here it is, I am admitting it out loud. I hate loving Walmart. But I love love the prices and the fact I can find many of my favorite high end brand foods finally. But believe me, I’ll never stop calling it Hellmart. Now it’s just a word referring to the people shopping beside me, not the store itself.