

How do you get your kids to stay in the tub for 45 minutes while you get ready?
SHAVING CREAM! I just squirt a bunch in a cup and take time doing my make-up and hair. It is like magic, and because I shop at the dollar store, it only costs pennies!


I went to target a few weeks ago and got harley pictures. They turned out pretty cute, but the people who work there are complete morons. This is my third REALLY bad experience there, but I keep going back because it is only 4 bucks a sheet. I know, I should just save up and go somewhere that has actually dealt with children. I guess I am a slow learner.
So anyway, we get there and the girl refuse to greet us because she is on the phone in the back room. She looked at me but wouldn't say anything, so I popped my head back there and said "Hi, do you know when you will be ready?" She told me that my appointment wasn't until 10:00, and we would start then. I said "Okay." I thought: Oh, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt your little phone call? Obviously you haven't wrestled 2 little kids in the morning and tried to convince them to take pictures. Witch (-w +b).
So I waited the 5 minutes or so, about 4 minutes after my appointment started, she came out and said "Hello! Are you doing the harley Davidson pictures today?" "Yup." "Okay, I will go get that ready."
By this time Owen was already having meltdown #2. Yeah, maybe you should get that ready. Maybe you should have had it ready AT 10:00 WHEN MY APPOINTMENT STARTED!!! Freaking idiot!
10 minutes later: "Okay, it's ready, come on in." The girl has the camera in her hand and I put the boys on the motorcycle. She just sits there and says "say cheese" over and over. THe boys are excited and smiling... yet strangely enough, she doesn't take one picture. Not one. So Owen climbs off the motorcycle. For those of you who have kids, you can probably guess what happened next. That's right... he wanted NOTHING to do with it. He didn't want near it. So that is why there are only pictures of Christian on the motorcycle. BTW: I was the person thinking of the poses, making him smile, and telling the dumb girl to take the damn picture.
The story isn't over yet... So I had a coupon for a free picture, but it couldn't be a Harley one, so I told her to take some of just Owen and Then the boys together. She sets a chair up and holds her camera. I set owen on the chair and he is being all cute because it is something new. I sat there for over a minute before I said "Are you going to take any pictures?" "Yeah, but I have to take the harley background down first." I am really not a patient woman, but I must say, this was way beyond my breaking point, so I said: "Well, could you do it because we have been waiting for you for over 20 minutes and that is why my kids are grouchy." She looked at me like I killed her dog. So we got a bunch of pictures of the boys... no thanks to her. And we went to walk around the store while she uploaded them. When I came back she showed me the pictures and all of the ones with the boys together were gone. I said, "Didn't you take some of both of the boys?" "Yes, but they weren't looking at the camera so I deleted them." "Can you get them back? I want to see ALL of the pictures" "Even if they are not looking at the camera?" "Yes, ALL the pictures." It turns out that it was not within her brain capacity to retrieve the pictures, so we had to go back in the studio and shoot some more. She sat the boys about a mile away from each other and finally got a cute one. I hate her.
Oh there's more... I go to pick the pictures up on the day that she wrote on the paper and guess what??? She wrote the wrong day down! So I had to wait an extra week, and go out there again. I am done with target portrait studio. Why don't they give their employees some basic training or something?
So if anyone has advice of a place that is close and a good price, let me know!
Oh, and sorry about the long story!


Christian has been driving his Jeep and going on a lot of hikes with Daddy. They talked me into going a few weeks ago, and Christian outwalked me by far.






























