Bannana’s,Saturdays, Religion, and Oh it’s Easter tomorrow!

A piece of banana falls on the floor, pick it up, slips out of my hand, lands on the high chair leg. I don’t bend down a second time to pick it up. I just sneezed, crumbs from my mouth flew all over my key board. But the Center Island needs to stay clean, “Alan, please just help me keep the Center Island clean this weekend, no clutter. “ I say last night. I missed the babies yesterday. O.K. this time I am going to another room to finish writing while Alan reads Jack and Fiona books. Now I’m ready to share my deepest and darkest secrets. Sitting in this room, my collection of art books, a lump forms in my throat as I write that. I love and miss my books. I don’t buy as many as I used to, I don’t get to as many shows or museums as I used to. That is the next frontier, bring Jack and Fiona to art galleries and museums. It sucks because a lot of museums around here don’t allow double strollers. They’re getting too heavy for front carriers. I need a friend to accompany us, volunteers? It’s so easy to let circumstances and other people’s opinions dictate how I spend my time. Last night we watched a documentary on Ron Hubbard and Dianetics. I kept having flashbacks. I think he tried to brainwash me. It was Richard. He also drilled Freud into me. Sitting in front of the library in Sea Cliff, N.Y., Richard questioning me, quizzing me on Freud. He was an asshole, Richard that is. We hitchhiked across America together.  I lost contact with him many years ago, and the last time I spoke to him he was a born again Christian. I’m not religious, I’m pretty sure that’s been clear from the beginning, in fact I consider myself a non-militant atheist. I also want to say I respect everyone’s religious beliefs. I’ve been down the road in a quest for answers, Dianetics, the Christians who looked like hippies, the Church of the Nazarene, Eldridge Cleaver, the Beat poets, Paganism, the Goddess religions, etc… Eight months ago we baptized Jack and Fiona at the Catholic Church in San Rafael. Beautiful church, very nice priest. We had to go to a class beforehand. We get there a bit late. I’m feeling very uncomfortable. Alan’s Irish, his whole family is Catholic, some practicing. The Deacon goes around the table and asks “What brought you here?” my face gets hot and red, what will I say? “My husband’s family is Catholic so we are baptizing the babies, I’m not religious.”  The amount of thought I put into that whole Baptizing thing was ridiculous. I didn’t even want to do it at all. I warned Alan WAY in advance though, before we ever had kids. I’m telling them the truth if they ask, “I don’t believe in God, you have to make your own decision.” I can hear Alan and the babies in the living room. I want to go in and visit, but I think it’s important that Alan has alone time with Jack and Fiona. But I have to go get a hug, be right back. I got my cuddles, they are so cute. Now they are down for their morning nap. To Do: Clean Kitchen, Clean Closet, Paint, Walk Billy. This is one of the most difficult things, deciding what to do when the babies take a nap. The best advice I could give to moms of twins is have a P.O.A. (Plan of action) for naptimes or they will be awake and nothing on the list is checked of. What will make me feel happiest? What is most important to do right now? Paint! Even if it’s just for a half hour. The End

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Thoughts on Motherhood Through the Eyes of an Artist