2005 Christmas Letter

Season’s Greasings, One and All.

As we look forward to our holiday tradition of decorating the tree while listening to the Three Tenors struggle with English, it’s hard not to remember 2005 as the year we witnessed the most destructive forces in nature wreak devastation upon property and life, leaving untold despair and ruin in their wake. But such is the reality of living with small children.

Life at the Layne household is a lot like life on The Itchy and Scratchy Show. The fighting briefly ceases each morning as Amanda leaves for Kindergarten, then resumes in full force and pitch when she climbs off of the bus at 11:30. Thank God for school. Karen and Mark shudder at the prospect of each approaching weekend.

In August, for the first time since Ally was born, Karen and Mark took a short trip alone to San Antonio. To keep Mom and Dad from feeling homesick, Amanda phoned in a daily fighting report. Though no knockouts were recorded, Amanda was declared the winner with seven kicks, five punches, and one pinch, to Ally’s four scratches, three bites, and one hair pull. (The girls will no doubt enjoy the “OK Corral Home Dueling Kit” they’re getting for Christmas.) In an effort to prolong their time away, K & M rented a car and drove home – by way of Alaska.

Whoever dubbed them the “terrible twos” never met Allyson Rose Layne. Ally has added a whole new dimension to the ignominious essence of this infamous age. Not unlike an iceberg, sea anemone, or Madonna, the sparkling blue eyes, angelic face, and pixie-cut blond hair are mere camouflage – a smoke screen provided by nature to conceal the pure malevolence lurking beneath.

Ally absolutely adores Amanda – much in the way mountain lions adore sheep. K&M first caught wind of Ally’s true nature when, at the age of one-and-three-fifths, they discovered her dropping miniature Disney Princess figurines into the mouth of her Little Tykes volcano. Now it seems her love of human sacrifice is exceeded only by her taste for human flesh. Mark still has a scar from the day he turned around to find Ally clamped to his backside like a cartoon canine. K&M believe the reason Amanda is doing so well in school and wishes she could stay all day (and night), is because nobody there bites her.

Ironically, Amanda and Ally have a rather symbiotic relationship in this regard. Whereas Ally was obviously a New Guinean head hunter in a previous life – pre-programmed to stalk and eat her prey – Amanda was no doubt a fugitive. Not happy unless she’s being chased, Amanda occupies her free time running away and hiding from the small, fanged person that is her sister. (Note to Ally: follow the trail of crumbs.) The rest of her day is devoted to finding taller, more dangerous things to jump off of, adding to her stuffed animal collection (K & M recently sold their refrigerator to make room for more), or playing Quidditch with her friend Emily. Amanda hasn’t stopped moving since conception, and nighttime is no exception. Karen and Mark routinely find her wandering the house during the wee hours, talking in her sleep, and making potty in unusual places. They assume her restlessness stems from her belief that, as soon as she goes to sleep, all her friends come over with party hats, streamers, a clown, and a monkey.

When Ally isn’t busy feeding virgins to Krakatoa or taking a chunk out of someone’s behind, she’s engaging in her second favorite pastime – lunch. K & M have erected a shrine to whoever invented Spaghetti-O’s with Meatballs (slogan: “The neat-round-spaghetti-impregnated-with-pellets-of-meat-flavored-polyvinylchloride-you-can-eat-with-a-spoon.”) Both girls continue to grow despite that very little of what they eat actually makes it into their mouths. K & M are considering installing a grate under the kitchen table which would allow the several tons of food that falls there each day to be sluiced away to some third world country (i.e. Arkansas).

On a sad note, Barney the Dinosaur died earlier this year – another victim of global deforestation. Unfortunately, the Wiggles met a similar fate when their plane went down over the Pacific. K & M haven’t yet decided what tragedy awaits Thomas the Tank Engine, but it is sure to be horrible.

Karen continues to dream of putting an addition on the house, not only because she’s running out of horizontal surfaces to put stuff on, but in the hopes of creating a new hidden room where the kids can’t find her. Mark plods onward, adding to his blog when time permits (http://markjlaynesramblings.blogspot.com), while yet pursuing his lifelong dream of photosynthesis.

In keeping with the spirit of the season (and the flavor of this installation), Charles Dickens perhaps best summed up this year when he wrote, “In the little world in which children have their existence, whosoever brings them up, there is nothing so finely perceived and so finely felt, as injustice.”

Merry Christmas to all, and to all good grief.

Karen, Mark, Amanda, & Ally