And then there were four.   Although I think it is frowned on to write about sex in your Christmas letter, I will say this: all of our children seem to be born 9 months after my birthday.   Christian (the now 10 mo old) arrived on Jan 20 to kick off a year of new adventures and silliness in the Meyer family lore.  It is now the end of November and I don’t really have to think much farther than the last 72 hours to bring you up to speed.

 We are all in the car on our way to Thanksgiving which is something of a miracle as getting us all on the road is like trying to push peanut butter through a door knob.  Ben is in the third row seat with the dog and enough luggage and last minute throw-ins that he looks kind of like he’s been stuffed into a hamster nest.  Today was school spirit day so he has both spiked his hair and spray painted it white so make that a 10 year old, Billy Idol kind of hamster.   Cooper has just passed on a donut because it is unhealthy and has instead asked if there are any almonds.  Griffin is memorizing all of the songs on my ipod.  Christian is sound asleep.  I have a fleeting (and not very parental) desire to reach over and wake him up just to annoy him.  I will ratchet back a few hours.

 It is 5:00am.  I hear nothing.  I hear nothing.  I sleep.  OWW!  My heel is impossibly clamped between two of Polly’s toes that are squeezing like a vice.  Ok.  Ok.  I guess I hear him. 

 It is 6am.    Scoopus Maximus, as Polly’s sister calls him, (Christian) and I are standing in 26 degree weather on the wrong side of the Starbucks door equally annoyed with each other.   He is in the backpack.  I see his reflection just in time to observe him casually taking his finger out of his nose and stick it in my ear. 

 We are home.  Ben:  “Dad, check this out.”  He is practicing a dance move that draws a simultaneous picture of Beyonce and Kermit the Frog.   Griffin runs over and turns the music up and starts leaping around with an air guitar.  Cooper comes flying through the door, flinging himself over the back of the couch to catch the winning touchdown – flattening both dog and lamp shade.  Green Day (band) is shaking the walls.  It is 7:15am.

 Polly went on a hiking trip in October leaving me with instructions on building a nuclear power plant and/or still having 4 living children at the end of the weekend.   By Saturday at 8am I was late.  By 9am I had forgotten diapers, Christian’s bottle, to feed the dog, and was standing on an empty soccer field that was supposed to have people on it.  Clearly the other 80 people were at the wrong field.  

 We have discovered that it is much easier to put up the outdoor Christmas lights when you never take them off.  We have learned that the DVD tray will, in fact, close with a slice of American cheese on it.  We have learned that pumpkins are an unfortunate place to store legos.  We continue to learn that life – perhaps with a little help from above – has a way of working out.

 Just last week my father, after 13 long months, had his upper and lower halves reattached restoring earth’s flatulent balance – or at least the Meyer family’s which, for us, is akin to “the Force” from Star Wars.  But on his last orchestration, being met with that twinkly eye and my favorite post fart Dad-ism of “you have to accentuate the positive!” seemed to make everything right in the world.

 We hope this letter, as always, finds its way to you in a time of happiness and laughter.  The doors to the Meyer Nut House are always open so hope you stop by if you’re in orbit.  Have a very happy holiday!

 All love,

Christian, Polly, Ben, Cooper, Griffin and Christian