I am so tired. Faces covered in yogurt, crumbs from cornbread pizza, goat cheese, and pears. Filthy High Chairs, floor dirty, yawn, yawn. Yesterday was a one nap day. We met our friends, Bettina, Willa, and Eliza at the Corte Madera Play area. I was already tired from the day before. Bettina and I try to have coffee and salad while the babies are loose. I feel bad, I am that distracted mom now. Jack goes one direction, Fiona goes another. I try to eat my salad, I walk around taking bites, screw it, throw it away. I’m not that hungry anyhow, the babies wouldn’t eat their cream of wheat with blueberries so I ate it for them earlier. There’s no gate on this play area. Jack keeps running out into the concrete, the janitors with their orange and yellow paraphernalia are most intriguing. I need eyes in the back of my head. I’m afraid someone’s gonna snatch one. Other kids and moms filter in and out, all older than Jack, Fiona, Willa, and Eliza. The older kids push Jack and Fiona in the face, Jack and Fiona push Willa and Eliza in the face. I wonder if the other moms think I’m letting my babies be too free. I can’t be by both of them at one time. I see other moms with much older children staying right near, monitoring their activities. The other half of the moms sit and look at their iPhone. Two one year olds just learning to walk, going in all directions, oh, and putting everything in their mouth is totally exhausting. Jack was eating something, I went over expecting it to be a leaf, and it was an old wet cracker. YUCK! This morning I turned on a cartoon. They were intrigued for 5 seconds. They are good babies, as they stand there and look at me shaking the super yard fence. I need to go now.
Month: March 2015
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I feel strange, almost nauseous as the pink silicone mold material is squirted into my ear. It’s cold. I can feel it expanding. I am getting my own listening tube made so I can check Fiona’s hearing aids. I try to get Fiona’s attention, show her I was going through what she has already gone through today and for the past seven months. She wasn’t very interested. We have been at the audiologist for an hour and a half, she is ready to go explore. Fiona sat in the hearing test room on my lap while Linda distracted her with toys. Dr.Robert made different sounds and Fiona was tested to see if she would turn to the direction the sound was coming from. There is a box with a flashing light on and a little stuffed teddy that bangs cymbals when she looks the correct direction. Dr.Robert is outside the room using his audiometer box to test her hearing frequencies. She’s doing so well, this is our second time doing this test. The first time Fiona didn’t respond to the soft sounds and I was told our household was very loud and Fiona was most interested in loud sounds, not soft ones. I felt like a child being scolded, people always tell me I have a loud voice. I have made an effort to reduce the volume around here and Fiona did respond to the quieter sounds this time. This morning we are hanging out in the living room, Jack starts to grab Fiona’s hearing aid. I take it out and put it in my ear. It sounds like hearing under water, there’s a delay. It must be strange how Fiona wears hearing aids sometimes and not others. It’s like two different worlds. Her hearing aid molds are too small now, they buzz all the time. The new ones won’t be ready for two weeks. When we are finished with the examination. We go to the front desk to make our next appointment to pick up the new molds. Dr. Robert is really busy, the receptionist says. She looks on her computer, talks to the doctor and tells me we can come in on March 19th. I pause: Thoughts are running through my head, that’s my birthday, I want some time to myself on my birthday, is that selfish, Fiona should come first, don’t I want her to hear? I can’t put off picking up her hearing aids, she’s already losing two weeks of language development. I don’t have anyone to watch the babies that day anyhow. We’ll make a day of it. The three of us can go have fun then stop by and pick up the ear molds. O.K., I tell the receptionist March 19th is fine.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 