A Hare Raising Experience

Spring is here. The flowers are beginning to bloom. The trees are growing buds. And there is a six foot tall bunny sitting in a pretend garden at the mall. Great. It's that time of year again-time for the annual picture with the Easter Bunny. Oh the joy. I say this with all the sarcasm I can muster after the excruciating experience we just endured. The day started out with my two year old practically singing the bunny's praise...it ended with her screaming like a banshee in the center court of our somewhat upscale mall while all three levels of shopper looked on. This is not our first run in with the nightmare causing bunny...we've been here before. This year, however, was supposed to be different. This year we had a plan. But I am slowly beginning to realize every time I think my husband and I have devised a fool proof plan, life pulls the rug out from under us and renders us cripple.

The first year we took our oldest daughter to see the bunny she was all of two and a half months old. Barely old enough to know what was going on, but smart enough to realize this giant thing that was holding her was not normal. The photo shows her looking up at the bunny with the most lethal stink eye I've ever seen her give anyone or anything. She never cried once and I remember feeling proud. Boastful even. My little trooper made it through her first bunny picture without tears. It was as if she beat out all the other wussy kids who were crying and clinging to their mommys. Oh just another time I can say if I only knew then what I know now. It is the only mall picture we have Christmas or Easter that she is not screaming for her life and trying to break free. Oh the irony.

Later that year it was time for the picture with Santa Claus. Again we put on her special dress, placed a bow on her head and pulled out the patent leather shoes. We confidently strode up to the man of the hour's North Pole setting and waited with the many other parents and kids. We had no fear. We thought for sure if we made it through the bunny picture with no problem when she was a tiny baby we would sail through this experience. Not only were we wrong, we were dead wrong. I could barely get her out of my arms to give to Santa. She had a death grip on me that I never knew a child could have. The screams were heart wrenching and the experience was morbidly embarrassing. Every parent and child on line looked at us as if we were torturing our baby. I suspected a few were even using their Blackberry's to look up the phone number for DYFS. The picture we have to memorialize that moment is of our daughter screaming, crying and trying to jump out of Santa's arms with her entire body. Ahhh another Hallmark moment.

Four months later we debated the bunny picture. I was due with my second daughter any day and did not want to jip her out of a bunny picture. We hemmed and hawed and finally decided that newborn baby would be too small for a man in a giant bunny suit to hold if Rhu performed her banshee routine. We went ahead with the picture and hoped for the best. We assured ourselves that she was older now. She would do better since she had done this before. We had faith. What we should have had was cotton for our ears. The screams were sharp and the pleas from our 14 month old were tear-jerking. I thought the stress of that picture was enough to induce labor. Thinking back I don't blame my unborn baby for clinging to the inside of my uterus. I would have been scared to come out too if all I heard was screaming. Another crash and burn picture.

The first Christmas picture that included both girls came with a modicum of planning. We thought it would be best to put the girls in their Christmas dresses right after breakfast when they were both well rested and fed. We picked a weekday for a chance at no line. We even started by letting the baby take a few test shots with Mr. Claus to show her older sister that everything was all right. The baby looked at the jolly fat man with an air of "I don't know about you, but I'll go with it." Everything was going swimmingly until we added her older sister. The screaming began and like dominoes they all fell into a frenzy. Once the older started the wailing the baby followed suit as if they rehearsed it in the car. Oh the humanity. My almost two year old was old enough now to cry, "Mommy!! Mommy!! Please Mommy!!" How could I do anything but crumble. I swept her from Santa and tried to calm her. It was over for now and the shame set in.

This Easter would be different. My husband ands I looked at this with all the intensity of a military operation. We strategized well in advance. We took into account that perhaps all Rhu needed was some warming up to the colossal bunny. So we put our plan into action. We set out on several recognisance missions. We drove to the mall several times to scout the bunny. We waved to him with all the zeal we could muster. We had the girls talk to the bunny. We hyped the bunny for several weeks before the appointed day-P Day.

After several visits and what appeared to be a very excited two year old we decided it was time. We planned our attack for after nap. A good time of day - well rested children and a short line at the bunny. I spent the day talking about seeing the bunny and my daughter reacted with enthusiasm. This was it. All our hard work and preparation came down to this. We even had my parents join us for what we were sure would be our moment of triumph. With big bows and colorful dresses we arrived at the mall still hyping the bunny. No line and we were in. Then old demons from the past came back to haunt us. The death grip was back and Rhu flat out refused to go near the bunny. She cried and pleaded to anyone who would listen. Patron from all three floors looked at us in horror. She even got her sister to cry. We tried to put them with the bunny but both girls held on so tightly we could even get in a bad picture. Rhu ran to grandpa and found the soft heart that allowed her to get away from the bunny. What could we do? I just couldn't believe all our hard work was for nothing.

The bunny patiently played with RaRa and after several minutes we decided a picture with one child was better than nothing at all. So, we relented and let RaRa go with the bunny. But, like clockwork she began to cry. So after 3 shots and $21.30 we left with the same feeling of defeat setting back in.

I thought all was lost, but once again grandpa stepped in and somehow managed to get Rhu to see the bunny as being not too bad. We made another attempt at a picture by promising them we would sit with them. It's not exactly the photo I wanted, but what can I expect from a two year old, a one year old and a big scary looking bunny?