It’s the last few weeks of summer after a long 18 months of being home together. The camp you signed them up for in the hopes of patching you through gets cancelled and by 7:00am the kids are already fighting. “Have you forgotten!? Santa is coming today!” I try reminding them. By 9:30am it’s 92 degrees and he pulls in the driveway for your holiday promo sample photo session. Dressed head to toe in the softest, reddest velvet, he knows the kids by name and asks if they liked feeding his reindeer last week at Santa’s Village. They hold it together for a grand total of six minutes before someone complains that their clothes are itchy. It’s hot. They don’t want to sit next to that brother. Or the other brother. They’re mad that you touched their hair. And they are all hungry. Again. I’m at the point in the photo session where I almost start crying. I want them to rise to the occasion. I want this memory to go well. I’m considering both bribing and threatening them - empty strategies to throw at the wall and see what sticks. All the while, I’m snapping snaps because we have to keep it moving. Even though we would like to keep him, he’s gotta get back to the Mrs C. Before he leaves, Santa hugs me. “They did great. Don’t you worry, they are wonderful kids and you did a great job.”

When I’m back in the safety of the garage hallway I burst into tears, positive we have blown it. Grateful that he still loved us anyway and thought we were good people with nice kids. When I pull up my image reel, I’m crying even more. I now see them in the OTHER moments - the ones where they weren’t sending me over the edge. When they were laughing and telling him that they wanted another cat. Triplet brothers. A four wheeler. When they realized they were almost as tall as he is. When he listened to a very long story about a new watch. If I hadn’t caught it on camera, I would have missed it.

I don’t care that it’s still palm trees and sunflowers and not pine trees and poinsettias. I am celebrating Santa today. Grateful for his grace, kindness, forgiveness…and for reminding me that Christmas should really last all year.

Thank you for the gift.