I call this one, "Girl opens present". 
That there (not the baby, the seat) is called a "Bumbo". It specializes in helping youngsters sit up who cannot do so by themselves yet. The daughter loves it.
This one I call, "Happy wife". Not sure what she's holding, but if it makes her happy I really don't care...unless it's a knitted sign that reads "I'm Leaving".
No one is safe on the sidewalks this Summer thanks to Grandma Wisner (aka Grandma Far-Away).
I call this, "Boy in Snow".
I call this, "Adorable".
One of my brave daughters who sat on Santa's lap at the Christmas party and received a gift.
My other brave daughter who sat on Santa's lap, also brave for wearing the same thing as someone else at the Christmas party (see above).
My son, whom I rescued from under a table where he was hiding from Santa Clause at the Christmas Party. This is where we discuss the issue in depth to find the root cause for his concern.
This is where we've reconciled that he isn't going to sit on Santa's lap, maybe next year. We never really identified an absolute cause for his fear of Santa, but the conversation was leaning toward his beard.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Pictures from Christmastime
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
If it is the beard, you could grow a massive santa-esque beard this next year so that he'll get used to it. Or maybe it will work in the reverse and he'll just become scared of you too.
The beard seems to be the source of fears for many. He is in good company with that fear. Now my girls want to comb Santa's beard for him.
Him being afraid of Santa doesn't bother me much, I consider it a healthy fear of strangers. A chubby guy in a red suit with a beard covering most of his face who barely walked into the room wants you to sit on his lap...kinda creepy if you ask me. Strange tradition if you think about it.
Post a Comment