I’m in Florida.

Paul is here for business and several weeks ago it occurred to me that Florida is generally a better bet for sunshine than Michigan is. As I thought wistfully of the sun I remembered that my sister lives with me and and that she is the sort of person who, if I jumped on a plane, would probably feel obligated to care for my children until I returned. Knowing that Paul would be busy all day I decided it could be a good opportunity to write and to do so sitting in the sun would be a bonus.

I don’t like Orlando, let me be upfront about that. Why, when you are surrounded by oceans, do people flock to the center of the state to sit on “rides” that show them the wonders of hydroponics? This I have done at an alleged amusement park. For me, coming to Orlando is creating distance between me and my children so that I can write about them. I have flown across several states to sit in a quiet hotel room or by a pool, not to visit Orlando.

Today as she handed us our keys, the receptionist, mentioned, “Your room has an atrium view,” and my heart constricted. I wondered if this meant an atrium view in place of a view of the real world, the sky, a lovely parking lot, anything open really…and began to feel claustrophobic just thinking about it.

Well, it was. This was disheartening as I came here to sit in this room and hopefully, to see the sun. But there was worse. For the holidays there is a nonstop show going on in the center of the atrium. Loud songs, terrible vignettes, synthesized carols all bouncing around and around and around the glass and steel desperately trying to find a place to land, settling for the soft tissues of my ears, causing them to bleed.

Regular readers of this blog and anyone who has known me for, say, two minutes knows that I am a tad sensitive. This is true, but I am NOT exaggerating. Buying Tylenol at the gift shop tonight the clerk told me the price and then about two years later I managed to pull the necessary bills out of my wallet and hand them to her. She was standing patiently waiting and I apologized, “That took a long time.”

“Yes! Yes!” She shouted in not quite the clearest English, “It is all day-ee, every day-ee frome November tawunty secone-d to Jan-new-ary secone-d!”

We immediately knew what she was talking about.

And, instinctively, we also knew that no words would adequately comfort. We settled for extremely sympathetic looks as we backed out the door and she wiped the spittle from her chin.

Tomorrow Paul is going to request a view of the parking lot and I am going to write my story.

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice-
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do-
determined to save
the only life that you could save.

– Mary Oliver

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt – marvelous error! –
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I said: Along which secret aqueduct,
Oh water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have never drunk?

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt – marvelous error! –
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt – marvelous error! –
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.
It was fiery because I felt
warmth as from a hearth,
and sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.

Last night as I slept,
I dreamt – marvelous error! –
that it was God I had
here inside my heart.

-Antonio Machado

(Version by Robert Bly)

Something Paul and I are trying to instill in Christopher is the value of feedback. For example: if he is trying to say or do something funny and no one is laughing that could be a clue that his choice of action might not be humorous to anyone other than him. We have been encouraging him to check in with his audience. Historically he has been more committed to his concept of comedy than his crowd.

Paul andI have been guiding him through his clownishness, trying to receive the gift of who he is and supporting him in respecting others.

Last night Aunt Torey and Uncle David were babysitting and had a little party with the older two. They rented a movie, popped a bunch of popcorn and stayed up late. Paul and I came home as the movie was wrapping up and gave the bedtime directives: brush your teeth, get into bed and await tuckage.

After a little lagging and the, “Don’t ruin a special treat!” admonitions they ran off. A few minutes later, Christopher announced from the kitchen, “Introducing the Giant Booty Boy” and then, having shoved several blankets down his pajama bottoms he came dancing into the living room, wagging his enormously blanketed bum. “Get into bed -” I began to cut him off but then he ran over to Torey and turned to shake his giant can in her and I started to laugh.

It was really funny. Torey had dissolved into giggles. Thus encouraged he began to wag his tail even harder. He had a real rhythm going and the stuffing of the pajamas had been masterfully done; it looked real. I tried to tell him to knock it off and get into bed but, he was shaking it at me and I could only laugh and kick at the padding.

Later,after we finally got him into bed, Torey, Paul and I talked about it. “He was really funny,” I said with wonder.

If I had a dollar for every time I have said, “OK Buddy, it’s time to calm down.” I would be a very rich woman. It felt good to enjoy him and to laugh, with no reservation.

Favorite Holiday Recipes

1. Anything pumpkin. For years I made a quadruple batch of pumpkin bread for anyone I had ever met at my kids’ schools. (In addition we always gave fat mall or bookstore gift certificates to the teachers. Be generous to the person who is teaching my child was always my philosophy.) The thing about the bread though is that it is nerve-wracking trying to bake a ton of the loaves, monitoring them to make sure they bake through with out burning. School presents are no longer an issue, but we like to give to neighbors too. This year I think I am going to make Sheila’s (Musings of a Mommy) Pumpkin Muffins. I have already made a double batch and they are delightful and so much easier to bake.

2. Spritz cookies – Paul grew up with these and I learned to make them to please him. It took some doing to figure out the cookie press, (Is it 3 1/2 turns or 2 3/4 turns? Every year there is a learning curve.) but once I got that down they are easy to make. We make pretty pale green trees. They are pleasing to the eye and the tongue. Delicately bite from the tip of the tree to the trunk. Each section will gently break off – a sensory delight.

3. Frosted sugar cookies – I would not do this if it wasn’t for my sister Torey but she loves this so through the years we have developed a system that is fun for all. We do not use homemade dough, rolling and cutting out the cookies ourselves. We are all about the colors. We buy pre-formed cookies at GFS (Gordon Food Service) which come in trees, stars and Santas. Torey mixes about 10 colors – grass green, sky blue, pale pink, deep rose, bright yellow, soft yellow, purple, soft green, and more. I think we use prepared frosting too. (I know, gasp gasp!) We have tons of things to sprinkle and accent. One year we did portraits of each other. The two of us and all the kids sit around the table, talking and laughing and we have fun! The quality is poor, but the experience is wonderful and the results are delicious. This is revolutionary for us as we were raised to use only the best ingredients, make everything from scratch and keep the children at bay.