“Ehh is that poop ?”
I touch it, a dark brownish chunk on the stair, hard on the outside, but still moist on the inside, I smell the tip of my finger,
“Yes, that’s poop”
Yesterday I woke up to Fiona’s diaper blow out, last night Jack said,
I was in the kitchen cleaning up, I thought he wanted to try out the potty on his own, It looked like he was trying to hold it, but when we got to the bathroom and I pulled off his pants his diaper was halfway off, poop was covering his butt, legs, feet, and pants. Some of it must have fallen out on the stair.
Now ,the babies are playing nice together, Alan is having his breakfast in the kitchen. I am drinking my coffee on the stairs, hoping I can gain a few more minutes to write without any questions asked of me, a few minutes gained to finish my coffee and write.
But no, Jacks crying, asking for things, Alans done with his breakfast. I woke up late from a sleepless night, no quiet solitude. Jack’s crying at the baby fence.
“I’m writing Jack, go play with Fiona.”
He cries, I give them both apples, as they throw them on the carpet I get pissed, the first time I explain,
“Apples are food, not balls, there are people starving in the world”
Just now Fiona throws her Apple down the stairs. I give up.
“I’m tired of telling you guys what to do, it’s getting annoying”
Fiona then throws her tiger down the stairs, as if I’m goung to get up and get it for her. They need to learn how to play on their own.
This is what happens after days with no me time, no studio time, constant telling what to do, what not to do. Constantly being surrounded by high volume. I can hear the comments now, “you’ll miss it when it’s gone” people always say things like that. This may be true but that doesn’t change how I feel right now, it doesn’t make things less difficult.
I try to use my mindfulness techniques, my goal of being present to get through the times of my role as housewife without breaks. It is still difficult, I find myself torn in half, frustrated, just wanting to run down to my studio and paint as I answer questions, give suggestions, clean the floor, change diapers.
I have sat here successfully and wrote this, finished my coffee, while Alan did the dishes for me, probably sensing my potty fatigue, while telling Jack and Fiona “don’t do that” or “play nice together” trying to ignore the smell of a huge poop in Fiona’s pants.
Next week will be back to normal again. I’ll have my studio time back. I’ll try my best to be present and get through the rest of the holiday without studio time, without cracking.
Time to change a very poopy diaper.