The Gingerbread House

This time of year, I fondly look back upon Christmas times past. This is a story that will never soon be forgotten.

December 20, 2001

This is a story written 8 years ago. Perry was 4 and Simon was 2 (Lucy was just 5 months old). I decided it would be a very loving and motherly moment to build a gingerbread house with my two boys. Here is the transpiration of that experience.

Below, you will observe the written instructions for creating a basic, “Kid-Friendly” gingerbread house. You will also experience my interpretation of such directions.

The Scene: Before all of this took place, I set the scene. I lined the kitchen floor with newspapers, took out all the kid friendly bowls and wooden spoons. Put the boys in their ‘it’s okay to get dirty’ clothes and show off the unopened, very fun gingerbread box to the boys

First: A two and a four year old are not the most desired of participants for this project. Hindsight is 20/20 they say!

Second: As I write this down from simple memory, I retrieve the “DIRECTIONS” to help in the writing process. Upon putting the paper down on the table, I notice the ‘Helpful Hints’ section on the back side. This clearly would have been helpful 2 hours ago.

Okay - let's look.

Direction #1: If you don't have a base for the gingerbread house, you can cut around the lines shown on back of box and cover with foil to use as base.

Katie's Interpretation: Unknowingly, cut around the *top* of box (the part with the pictorial reference), and cover completely with foil.

Direction #2: Beat contents of package in a small mixing bowl

Katie's Interpretation: A fool can mix contents in a bowl. Okay boys, we are on a roll.

Direction #3: Insert icing tip into decorator bag and cut end of bag to let tip come part way through.

Katie's Interpretation: What 'decorator bag?’ It must mean this white plastic bag that the powdered contents came in – that has already been ripped open. I'm supposed to insert the decorating tip into this old bag? Okay, if they say so. “Boys, let’s have mommy do this part. It’s a little tricky” Boys watch, quietly waiting for the okay from me to allow them to be actively involved.

Direction #4: Apply icing along bottom edge of back piece and stand up on base so there is room at the front yard of the house for decorations.

Katie's Interpretation: Okay, I can do this. I can do this. Somewhat of a foreign language, but I can do this. 2 and 4 year old look on as their ‘super-mom’ gets to work.

Direction #5: Apply icing on bottom and sides of walls positioning these pieces on the *Outside* of the back panel.

Katie's Interpretation: Okay, here we go. First of all, these side walls look rather large; but oh well. I professionally apply the frosting. While pushing the frosting through the 'decorator tip' that was positioned delicately within the reused plastic bag, I squeeze too hard and POP - bottom of bag breaks open and frosting goes in every direction. Perry and Simon, who were positioned so quietly as the attentive audience, seize the opportunity to begin scooping up splattered icing with tiny fingers and inserting them into their awaiting mouths.

Direction #6 Hold in place for several minutes until set

Katie's Interpretation: Cool. Quiet time. Things are cleaned up. Now we can sit back and relax and talk about how much we are enjoying ourselves.

Direction #7 Add roof pieces

Katie's Interpretation: Okay boys, here are the roof pieces. Ready? What is this, these pieces look awfully small. Hey, they don't fit. Oh-oh, looks like Mommy put the roof pieces on the side of the house.

"Mommy - nooooo. You did it all wrong!! Take it off!" says my 4 year old.
“Well, we can lay the roof down flat.” I respond with shaken confidence.
"Noooo. Take off the sides. We need our roof." The oldest says, while wiping away tiny tears.

Inhale – Exhale.

“Boys go downstairs to play and Mommy will fix this and clean up the mess.”

Boys come up when all is seemingly saved and fixed

Direction #8 Apply icing along all top edges of house. Hold both roof pieces in position for several minutes.

Katie's Interpretation: Slather on the icing. I don't care where it goes. Let's get this (filth and foul) project over with.

Direction #9 Use photograph as guide only. Be creative and make your own design.

Katie's Interpretation: “Photograph….photograph? Boys, do you see where there is a photograph of the house?”
This is when I realize that the 'picture' is being used as the base of this project and is all covered up.
**Be creative? ** "Okay boys, here's the candy. Have at it!" Boys translate this to mean, devour the hard candy pieces.

"Oh, I haven't tried the red one yet. I haven't tried the green one too!" Excitedly speaks the two year old in his two year old voice.

Direction #10 Glue decorations on house using icing. Spread base with icing for snow and decorate yard as desired.

Katie's Interpretation: Well, the majority of the icing splattered on the floor. Whatever we had in reserve was used to glue this monster gingerbread thing together. We have no more icing for side walk, door or yard….. Wait a minute. I have some old cake frosting in the cupboard. I'll use that (learns later, it does not do a thing but make a mess)

Direction #11 Clean up

Katie's Interpretation: As I am cleaning, I spot this folded piece of plastic on the kitchen floor. I unfold it and voila, the DECORATING ICING BAG

Katie's Interpretation: Tell boys that this is the most beautiful gingerbread house in the whole wide world.

Merry Christmas.

Journal Time

This morning, Lucy and I sit at our dining table. I have some music playing and freely type away, while my daughter sites with tears in her eyes. She doesn't know what to write. I took the liberty of bringing out a couple of my journals for her to see. One from 4th grade, one from 1987 and one that was begun in 2003 (The last entry was February 2008 on an airplane home from San Francisco....a weekend away to celebrate turning 40 with my friends.)

I currently have three working journals - and this blog. I am passionate about words and I wish i was able to retain the eloquence of this language. It impresses me. While Lucy hides her words from me with her book upright; hiding within what she assumes to be the judgement of her mother.

I look out to the sunroom and Simon is at it on his own blog. He has the gift of words as well.

I have never planned to do anything with these words that spill out from me as they are just that....spillage from the mind. Hardly significant; just doin' my thing and finding small celebrations within chosen text.

Last night, I played Scrabble with the kids. The 12 year old, who has struggled with words, performed with three letter and four letter words: Bone, Cat, Did. The 10 year old added words such as: Newt, Judge, Simmer, and Wharf.

Daybook time is over. Thanks for listening.

Today is Whatever I Want it to Mean

Step through any brilliant shades....it's fine just as it is. Today is whatever I want it to mean. Everything I took for granted - I want to see it through.

act justly
love mercy
walk humbly

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People are walking and talking resumes. Upon impression, selling in short order; living up to inflated potential. i admit, i catch myself walking in that same long line with others, showing off my best assets in thought that it will matter somehow to the other.

Tossing again and again...falling to my knees

Walking in circles, we do - (getting lost in where we start and where we begin). The music drones on and on in the head - louder and louder with each beat - we continue to walk, animate, and perform for the other. Topping out the list each time we step with who has most to offer, who has the most to balance; the most experience, the loudest voice, the biggest heart aches, and the music fills the gaps with excruciating rhythm that we can no longer concentrate - and yet, we continue, because that is what we know. We are fed. we are freed.

the pace quickens at times and there is a rush to succeed but again. The music finds a steady note and keeps its constant; allowing for a second in time for you to think and take notice of you. simply you. not the others around, not the feet you are following, not the circle within the performance. The music trickles and finds you at a stop. a complete stop. you don't notice the fall of the others. you are able to find yourself once again, take yourself out of the circle and BEGIN and START anew.

Drawing a line....jumping over....looking back at the others dusting off and continuing in their circuitous (i love that word) walk. You. Within your time of solitude, you break away with tensile strength; cognizant of that time to come - the time, without warning, you will be back within the circle, wondering how you got there.

act justly
love mercy
walk humbly

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Fly.. .... .... ....

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'cause i came here with a load and it feels so much lighter since i met you.

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Where do we go? Nobody knows. God give me style and give me grace.....God put a smile upon my face :) (smile)........ya!!!!

What Matters

We are currently reading The Magician's Elephant by Kate DiCamillo. There is a character named, Hans Ickman. This quote from Hans has struck me. "It is important that you say what you mean to say. Time is too short. You must speak words that matter."

I believe in this. Speak words that matter. Interpretation....interpretation...interpretation.

Life it too short to concentrate on one's misery. Life it to short to place fleeting expectations. What matters? What matters is.....

In my memory - i wrote about a river...a river that nearly drowned my intention...a river that almost drowned my narrow interpretation of life.

I am still standing. That is what matters. My journey continues......

Sing a Simple Song

Disclaimer: It is daybook time and I will try my best to take thoughts and transpose them onto this blog while a Radio Disney CD plays in the background - picked by Lucy. The lyrics leave little to the imagination.

We all ride waves in our journey. We continuously navigate through raging waters towards a more serene and acceptable scene.

On most days, I plot the course and steer us in a successful fashion; and by days end, our expedition slows with the trickling pace of the water.

In the past few weeks, the river has clashed in buoyant animation. It's waters have been unforgiving - punishing - grueling - demanding all I have to give and it has defeated me.

Quick Report

Perry's report card:

Science ... A (97%)
Phy Ed ... A (96%)
Social Studies ... A- (89%)
English ... A- (93%)
Chorus ... A (98%)
Math ... A (94%)
German ... A (98%)

Mommy's proud meter.... A (100%)

If you twist and turn away
If you tear yourself in two again
If I could, you know, I would
If I could, I would
Let it go

Surrender
Dislocate

If I could throw thisLifeless lifeline to the wind
I'd leave this heart of clay
See you walk, walk away
Into the night
Through the rain
Into the half-light through the flame
If I could through myself
Set your spirit free
I'd lead your heart away
See you break, break away
Into the light And to the day

So let it go
And so fade away

So let it go
And so fade away

I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
I'm not sleeping

Oh, no, no, no
I'm not sleeping
Oh, no
If they should ask well maybe they'd
Tell me what I should say
True colors fly in blue and black
Bruised silken sky and burning flag

Colours crash, collide in bloodshot eyes
If I could, you know I would
If I could, I would
Let it go

This desperation
Separation
Condemnation
Revelation

In temptation
Isolation
Desolation
Isolation

Let it go, aha
And so fade away

So let it go, aha
And so fade, fade, fade away

So let it go
And so to fade away
I'm wide awake I'm wide awake
Wide awake
I'm not sleeping Oh, no, no, no

u2

Shhh, the Baby's Sleeping

All is quiet. The bathroom fan is heard down the hall.

My thoughts:

Last night, during dinner, john and ....(officially, he is still a 'pre-teen,' but in all aspects of behavior, reaction, and mood, he *is* a full bodied teenager) had it out. It was quite entertaining, I must say.

It all stemmed from something simple - yet consciously annoying. John decided to pick the fight and tell Perry to be quiet; as he was humming during the course of his brother talking about the day. Perry stopped and in the middle of the sentence, asked if he could clear the table - we said yes. He quickly added that he wanted to be excused afterwards, and we said, no.

This did not sit right with the teenager and in full momentum, charged with words and behaviors at his dad.....and consequently, his dad fought back. The remaining audience members (kids and me) knew full well who was going to win this battle of words, wits and physicalitys but the teenager was non the wiser and continued in his quest...full speed ahead.

I sat, quietly, with legs propped up on a chair and watched the scene - oddly enough, thinking of my time with John 13 years prior; before 'said' teenager was born. The time when WE had space to have our voices heard. The time when 4 other humans didn't vacuum all existing energy from our day.

This morning, I dug up some old journals of "john and katie." Sentences like, "We ate Corn Flakes on the porch, finished the newspaper and were off on our bikes." "John and I saw a very bizarre play last night in Los Angeles; which consequently didn't start until 11:30pm." "Today, we just pulled out the futon, warmed up corn tortillas and watched movies all day long." "Last night, after dinner at the restaurant, John and I spontaneously drove up to Duluth for a weekend in a B&B. We didn't' arrive until after 11pm, but the owners left the porch light on for us." "Tonight, on the coldest night of the year, John bought me my dream car....a convertible Alpha Romeo Spider...."

Last night, i giggled inside during Perry's heated words - words that were a novice tool to him and words that will only get better with time and maturity. I laughed, and thought, "Perry, you don't know this man. You are completely unaware of who he is. And, this man, whom I have now loved for 20 years is trying to teach you how to use your words, your movements and your tone in a sophisticated manner - to only assist you later, when you need it.

'John and Katie' have filled many journal pages of our own torments, heated moments, blissful events, and entertaining days. Pages are continuously being filled with each passing day. It was fun last night to see a new set of events transpire; an inauguration of sorts into the next chapter of 'John and Katie.'

Lull to the Day

There is a lull to my day. It is evident. Chai tea warms in the microwave, the baby is asleep, the kids have friends over and are occupied. I sit within a vacuous bubble of peace...moving within an ideal state, cognizant of it's delicate condition.

The microwave dings.

I think of the dress; the dress everyone admires in the store and remarks, "This would be a perfect dress to wear at a garden party." The garden party never comes. It doesn't exist; and you are now stuck with the dress. This time, this condition of presence is the garden party...I grasp at the exclusivity.

I think of the books I buy, the romantic beginnings of sitting on a couch, 'curled up with a good book.' The couch is jumbled by legos and diapers and the 'good books' get shifted from one dusty table to the next.

There is a lull to my day and anything is possible. I begin to plan curriculum for the following week - grabbing books, paper, pens and computer. I stop, set the books at rest, fill the fireplace with logs and make a chai tea....for the tide is out and there is ample room to move, roam, and see. Soon, a multiple of influences will begin a roll of the waters.

If I don't move fast...i may be be washed away.