Just one of those days.

I was debating writing about today's events, but I suppose you have to take the bad with the good.

I would not characterize Lauren as an easy going kid. She's probably not as bad as I think she is, but sometimes, I just wish she would be a little more cooperative.

Today I had planned to take her to see Santa Claus for the first time. Now, my expectations of her were already quite low, as I was fairly confident that she wasn't going to get anywhere near Santa's lap. And I was okay with that, because I wanted the experience to be on her terms and not because I am a psycho mother who come hell or high water must have her child sit on Santa's lap each year. I even commented to Mark last night that it was going to be disaster. Little did I know how much so.

I had it all worked out. We were going to go into the city to the downtown Macy's department store. This was a no brainer for several reasons. One, my parents took me to see Santa there when the store was Kaufmann's. Second, instead of having him out in the open where everyone can gawk, they have Santa stashed in a private corner of the 6th floor. Lastly, no one goes shopping downtown on a Sunday, so the line would be minimal.

The morning started out uneventful. I even got her to sit down and eat her cereal without complaint. All was going well until I caused a meltdown by refusing to go upstairs with her to play because I was finishing my breakfast. At this point, I was still optimistic, so I thought one little meltdown wasn't going to ruin the day. But I was wrong, as the meltdown pretty much set the tone for the rest of the day.

As I was getting dressed, I could hear her downstairs whining and crying at her frustrated Daddy. So what did I do? Cancel the plan? Heck, no - I decided that since the weather was decent and she was going to be dressed up in her holiday finery anyway that it was a great time to have the annual Christmas card photo shoot.

Once she was dressed, I scooted her outside. All was going well once again, until she tripped in yard and landed on her knees. Was she hurt? No, it was worse. She had grass stains on the knees of her tights. Then, the wailing began: IT'S DIRTY! IT'S DIRTY! WIPE IT OFF! WIPE...IT...OFF!

I took her inside and consoled the inconsolable as best I could. Her spare pair of tights were in the wash, so I resourcefully took the soiled pair off and put them on her backwards. Santa would never know the difference.

It was then, we decided to stay home. Just kidding - we strapped her in her car seat, cheeks still wet with tears, and off we went.

As expected, we arrived at a deserted parking garage and easily found a spot complete with a view of a homeless man sleeping in an alley. No time for fooling around, we went straight to see the man of the hour.

As expected, the line was short. Bordering the line, was a cute display of bears. Lauren was immediately drawn to them, and we encouraged the distraction. Only one thing that we didn't account for: getting her away from the bears and over to Santa.

Cue HUGE meltdown: NOOO! I NEED TO GO SIT WITH THE BEARS! THE BEARS! THE...BEARS!

I know when I've been licked. We made a hasty retreat to the elevators, where I then had a meltdown of my own and began to cry.

There's always next year, I guess.