Christmas at the Bass Pro Shop

You may be wondering where my Goal Post is this week.  I decided to take a little break until after New Year's.  I have too many time commitments to give my goals their due respect, and I don't want to set goals and write about them knowing that I don't have time because of Christmas parties, kids, wrapping...you name it!

Last weekend, we took the kids to see Santa at the Bass Pro Shop in Prattville.  We dressed them up in their Christmas finery and headed out for a long drive to the "North Pole."  Number One and Number Two both brought Diary of the Wimpy Kid books to read (Number One) and to look at (Number Two). 

When we reached the shop the line was so long. We placed ourselves in the back of the line, and Hubby and I took turns standing there or chasing the kids.  Bass Pro Shop did a great job at providing entertainment for the kids: games, coloring, letters to Santa, a train, and the 4-wheeler display!

 

 

Now I can't say I approve of the Alabama bow on their tree, but I'll forgive them for that!  The boys played nicely which I must say is a Christmas Miracle.  They are like Tom and Jerry these days, always at each other's throats. 

 

 

Darling Daughter snuck off to take a peak of Santa.  I'm almost sure she made it into some unsuspecting family's Santa photo.  She was thrilled and in awe of Santa and not one bit scared of him!

 



 

 

After waiting in line, for what seemed like forever, our time with Santa finally came up.  The kids ran up to him, and there was a slight scuffle between Number One and Number Two about who would sit where.  Number Two didn't want to be in the middle, because well, he's ALWAYS in the middle.  I placed Darling Daughter on Santa's lap.  She was uncertain but didn't cry.

 

And then, the Christmas Elves snapped this priceless photo, that I will remember for years to come:

 

 

And it will always make me laugh!





Santa Won't Come

Threats of no presents don’t work with this boy.  He must know that he is on the “Nice” list, and no amount of Mommy saying, “Santa won’t bring you presents,” would bother him.

Yesterday, Son # 2 was having quite the fit.  He wanted to go to his grandma’s house instead of daycare.  Who wouldn’t want to go over there, right?  I led him down the stairs and told him we’d call his grandmother so she could explain that she had a doctor’s appointment.  This seemed to do the trick for a moment.

After a quiet and calm conversation with his grandmother, he settled down enough to sit at the kitchen table for some breakfast.   He then became ornery again, though, saying that he was going to throw his juice if he didn’t have a juice box with breakfast.  Daddy and I stuck to our guns, though, and we did not give in.

I looked in Son #2’s eyes and said, “You know Santa is watching you, right?”

He looked up at me with his huge blue eyes and a scowl on his face.

“Don’t you want Santa to visit you?”

“NO!” Son #2 said emphatically, as he began to reach for the cup.

“If you do that, Santa might not bring you presents.”

“I DON’T WANT SANTA TO BRING ME PRESENTS!”

What do you do then?  I just looked down at my cereal, continued eating, and five minutes later Son #2 was his usual, chirpy self.