B's first visit with Santa Claus went better than we expected. We went down to the mall at 10:00 a.m., and believe it or not, we found a parking spot right up front, in the row right in front of the door! P was amazed.
The line to sit on Santa's lap was short, too! There were only about six families ahead of us. I think the total time we stood in line was maybe 10 minutes! Again, our mouths were agape in amazement!
The mall we went to does a huge spread for Santa. Archways and decorated Christmas trees, a little storybook house that hides the photographer (so the kids don't get nervous, I guess). So many lights and sparkly things, it keeps the kids' attention while they're waiting. B was fascinated by everything. I had her dressed in a red velvet dress with a white satin and lace collar, white tights with red ruffles covering her butt, white shoes. Totally adorable. She eyed Santa cautiously while we waited in line. Transfixed, she couldn't take her eyes off of him. She watched as other kids ran up to him and jumped on his lap. Some of them had to be coaxed, many of them seemed eager to jump down as soon as their pictures were snapped. But they all knew the drill and did their Christmas duty while their parents oooh'd and aaaah'd and giggled. Then it was B's turn.
As I carried her over to him, her grip around my neck tightened. She buried her face in my neck and tried to climb up higher upon me, as if the higher she was, the further from Santa she would be, and therefore safe. I tried to put her into his lap and she clung to me. I pried her away and sat her down, and she reached for me and howled.
I had a moment's conversation with the photographer beforehand, in which I told her I had a feeling B would cry, but to take the picture anyway, as a crying baby with Santa picture would be just as adorable to us. She understood. So as I backed away, B let loose a cry that made my heart ache a little (it was the cry of terror!) and the photographer snapped the picture quickly. B pulled her arms down for a moment and focused straight ahead at that point, in the direction of the camera, still howling, but at least not reaching for us, and the photographer snapped another picture.
I rushed over to her and rescued her from Santa at that point, who seemed amused and relieved. I'm sure he's seen it countless times. B buried her head in my neck once again, and we carried her out. All the time, the parents in the line behind us aaaahh'd and ohhh'd their sympathies to us. But we were delighted! Here we'd just gotten some GREAT blackmail material for when B's a teenager!
So the picture will be mailed to us in 2 weeks. They promised to send the better of the two. I can't wait to see it. P was armed with Handycam, so we do have the entire episode captured on videotape, to watch at our leisure.
I asked P if he thought B had been traumatized by Santa, but after a few minutes, she was once again distracted by the lights and sounds of the mall, and all happy and giggly once again. When we got home, we got down the Santa ornaments to make sure she knew we were okay with Santa, and that he was a good guy we welcomed into our home. She wasn't afraid of the figure on the ornaments, so I guess she wasn't traumatized. P said we shouldn't worry about it.
I'm going to try to find some nice Santa illustrations to show to her tomorrow night, as P reads "The Night Before Christmas." He doesn't know he's going to do this yet, but it's going to be a tradition for us starting this year. It's too late to rush out and buy a nice copy of it, so I think I'll just download it from the internet. We'll have the kids in their Christmas Eve pajamas, cookies at the ready, mugs of hot somethings and not-so-hot somethings for everybody, and we'll all snuggle around P on the couch, with the tree lit, fireplace lit, candles burning. And we'll listen to P read the Christmas poem with inflection and a bad British accent, which will amuse me. But the kids will love it.
And I will love being all together, safe and warm in our home, waiting for that character in the red suit to slip through our patio door (which we will tell the kids that we will leave unlocked just for Santa, just this one night, since our fireplace is gas, and we don't have a chimney).
That's my plan, anyway. Ho ho ho!!
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