I spend probably about half of the year worrying about getting a photograph of my three children that is usable as a holiday card image. You might think that without even thinking about it that I could probably get a dozen or so decent photos of all three of my kids every year.

You might think that, but you would be wrong.

I take literally thousands of photos every year, mostly of my kids, but when I review them in late November, I still only find maybe one photo from the previous 12 months that features three children who belong to me, are looking near the camera, are not grimacing, and have their eyes open.

They are gorgeous kids, but they do not photograph well as a group.

After the debacle of last year when I was forced to create a photo montage on our card in the hopes that the force of five semi-decent photos would equal one good card, I decided that this year I AM NOT PLAYING AROUND.

I chose a Saturday as our target date. The day before, I went to the grocery store and bought ice cream, canned whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and sprinkles. Let's be honest here, I'm sure it doesn't surprise you to hear that I bribe my family. When the time came, I laid out two choices of acceptable clothing for each child next to a table full of delicious treats.

As they changed their clothes, I explained about how good boys who smile with the natural grace of a baby model get ice cream, but grimacers do not. I told them that we would be taking more than just a few photos and that I expected them to happily participate if they wanted ice cream. I emphasized that grumbling and grousing were not an option...if they wanted ice cream.

Then I lifted my camera to take a photo of the three of them oohing and aahing at the sprinkles—and my camera battery died. 

#$%$^&@!!!! 

Two hours, a slew of video games (them), and a nap (me) later, I revisited the rules and we headed out into the back yard.

I should state for the record that I am not a stickler about having perfectly dressed kids sitting in a row and smiling at the camera. In fact, my favorite holiday card ever features my kids at the end of a long hike in dirty clothes. One of them even had a black eye. But it so perfectly captures who they are. That's all I'm looking for: the perfect essence of my kids. How hard could that be?

The answer is: very hard. I had to shout, "Put down that sword!" more than once, and it turns out that my autistic kid doesn't much care to gaze straight into the camera lens. Huh. Go figure. Not to mention that my 10-year-old has perfected this totally creepy closed-lips smile that he seems to think is what he should bust out whenever the camera is raised. 

Fortunately, I had recently gotten some good tips from pro photographers about shooting kids. (That sentence looks bad. But I swear that I just use a camera, not a slingshot.) They suggested telling your kids not to smile. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES ARE YOU ALLOWED TO LET YOUR TEETH SHOW OR YOUR LIPS CURL UP IN THE SLIGHTEST. Smiles guaranteed.

The tip that best served me though, was to have my kiddos tell me a joke. It makes total sense if you think about it, because if there is one thing I've learned about kids, it's that they think their jokes are HI-larious. The downside is that you have to listen to a lot of nonsensical ramblings disguised as jokes.

In the end, I actually managed to get more than a couple of photos to choose from for my holiday card. I think this may be the only time I have successfully engineered a photo shoot instead of just getting lucky with three kids in the right place at the right time. 

No, not every image was a winner, at least not in the traditional sense (see photo), but my kids had fun, they giggled, they were happy—and I managed to capture all of that in what will be our holiday card this year.

That's even better than an ice cream sundae. 

Stimey writes a personal blog at Stimeyland; an autism-events website for Montgomery County, Maryland, at AutMont; and a column called Autism Unexpected in the Washington Times Communities. You can find her on Twitter as @Stimey.