New Year's Checklist
Things I've done so far:
Yep, it's a year of accomplishments, so far, and if this keeps up, I will have a two-page newsletter in the hodge-podge seasonal missives. This space will be updated with an image shortly. Updating the family portrait was totally necessary this year, as in our previous one, my son was only a year old, and my daughter still had all her baby teeth. (Now her father has her baby teeth, except for that last one hanging in her mouth by the barest tooth-skin, which rattles whenever she breathes gustily. I think that's why she's keeping it in there.)
Since my brother's wedding in October, though, something happened to my son. Little Dragonboy doesn't like having his picture taken anymore. (Too much of a good thing, I guess.) So stuffing him in his monkey suit was the easiest part. We took the DIY approach, too, as he knows he can get away with ruining the shot if we go to a department store studio. Spock will get fed up, and say "Good enough" to something that is hideous, and Tiger will whine for more sparkly wardrobe accessories. And I will require a stiff drink.
(Aside: if you're over 30 and you haven't yet had your kids: DON'T! You'll be too tired to deal with this crap.)
So I hung 5m of crushed panné velour from the stair rail for our backdrop, let my camera ham daughter know it was time, and advised Dragonboy that, indeed, it was time to put on the monkey suit. He didn't have to wear it long, but how long depended on when Mommy was satisfied with the portrait.
(Aside: I now love digital cameras.)
Thoroughly not impressed with the way things were going (Dragonboy huddled among the Barbies and Polly Pockets in his sister's closet, in the dark, with the Barbie Cruise Ship held in front of him just in case we had a camera), I left him to his father, and got myself ready.
My daughter Tiger decided she would wear Spandex. So I argued with her as my husband gave our son a good yelling-at.
(Aside: do not attempt to apply mascara while arguing with a 7-year-old about fashion.)
Finally, everyone was dressed, if flushed and teary. Oh yes, we WILL have a happy family portrait, and every one of you will goddam' well SMILE for it!
Got everyone into position. My husband Spock pushed the timer button. We all stared in the direction of the camera... and Dragonboy stuck out his tongue just in time for the click.
He was informed in no uncertain terms that we would retake and retake, until there was something I would be happy to look at hanging in the family gallery.
FIFTY FUCKING SHOTS LATER...
Dragonboy was the only one smiling naturally.
- Not bought any new fabric -- CHECK
- Finished some unfinished projects -- CHECK (I now have two mittens, although one thumb is longer than the other)
- Maintained/maintenanced some appliances that needed it -- CHECK (after one of them spat rust and hot water on my cream-coloured synth-silk, but without real tragedy, as we could simply position the pattern pieces to avoid the stain)
- Family portrait -- CHECK.
Yep, it's a year of accomplishments, so far, and if this keeps up, I will have a two-page newsletter in the hodge-podge seasonal missives. This space will be updated with an image shortly. Updating the family portrait was totally necessary this year, as in our previous one, my son was only a year old, and my daughter still had all her baby teeth. (Now her father has her baby teeth, except for that last one hanging in her mouth by the barest tooth-skin, which rattles whenever she breathes gustily. I think that's why she's keeping it in there.)
Since my brother's wedding in October, though, something happened to my son. Little Dragonboy doesn't like having his picture taken anymore. (Too much of a good thing, I guess.) So stuffing him in his monkey suit was the easiest part. We took the DIY approach, too, as he knows he can get away with ruining the shot if we go to a department store studio. Spock will get fed up, and say "Good enough" to something that is hideous, and Tiger will whine for more sparkly wardrobe accessories. And I will require a stiff drink.
(Aside: if you're over 30 and you haven't yet had your kids: DON'T! You'll be too tired to deal with this crap.)
So I hung 5m of crushed panné velour from the stair rail for our backdrop, let my camera ham daughter know it was time, and advised Dragonboy that, indeed, it was time to put on the monkey suit. He didn't have to wear it long, but how long depended on when Mommy was satisfied with the portrait.
(Aside: I now love digital cameras.)
Thoroughly not impressed with the way things were going (Dragonboy huddled among the Barbies and Polly Pockets in his sister's closet, in the dark, with the Barbie Cruise Ship held in front of him just in case we had a camera), I left him to his father, and got myself ready.
My daughter Tiger decided she would wear Spandex. So I argued with her as my husband gave our son a good yelling-at.
(Aside: do not attempt to apply mascara while arguing with a 7-year-old about fashion.)
Finally, everyone was dressed, if flushed and teary. Oh yes, we WILL have a happy family portrait, and every one of you will goddam' well SMILE for it!
Got everyone into position. My husband Spock pushed the timer button. We all stared in the direction of the camera... and Dragonboy stuck out his tongue just in time for the click.
He was informed in no uncertain terms that we would retake and retake, until there was something I would be happy to look at hanging in the family gallery.
FIFTY FUCKING SHOTS LATER...
Dragonboy was the only one smiling naturally.