She was feeling better today so her Grandma Carol and I got her all dressed up for her pictures with Santa. I combed her hair in ponytails that even my mother would be proud of, and we ventured to the mall to meet up with Brian and see the Old Man in Red.
Last year, the photo was taken right before she blessed Santa with her little baby vomit, so this year, I wasn't taking any chances. Last night, I called on my friend Melody, doctor extraordinare, to guide me as to how I could avoid a repeat. I followed all of her feeding instructions for 36 hours.
When we got to the mall, I gave Aimee a pep talk about not crying. I told her that I was going to sit her on his lap, and walk away for a minute while Mrs. Santa took the picture, but I wouldn't leave her. That Mommy, Daddy, and Grandma would be there the whole time and we wouldn't walk away. I told her that one day she would be excited to see him. Finally, I told her that if she wasn't going to smile, to go ahead and cry. But not a wimpy cry. To really give it her all and go all drama queen on him.
The result was priceless.
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