“Mmmmmmmmmmm, this is a DAMN good cup of coffee” it’s ten to seven Friday morning. My poor baby Jack has been coughing since I woke up. I have been hoping he’ll fall back asleep. Fiona is quiet. The house is still asleep, Alan is gone to work, Maureen is asleep in the guest room. She is leaving back to Ireland on Sunday. Jack and Fiona have really taken to her, last night when Alan brought her home we were in the nursery getting our pajamas on.
A screech of excitement from Fiona. I open the door and both babies rush up the stairs,
Fiona grabs the toy bus Maureen gave her for x-mas, she holds it up. Maureen gives both babies hugs and kisses, they accept her affection. This is nice.
We all hang out together and watch an episode of Pee Wee’s Playhouse. I realized something sitting on the couch last night, Alan had taken some photos of Maureen, the babies, and I. He handed me his phone to look at them. The Intro song to Pee Wee’s Playhouse was playing, which I like alot, and Alan and His mom were having a conversation.
“Did you know that Jen?” Alan asks.
“I didn’t hear anything you guys were saying”
I think this upsets my husband, things like this happen on a regular basis. I need to explain I can only handle so much input at any given time. Looking at the photos and listening to music was my max, I couldn’t also pay attention to a conversation. The same thing happens if I’m cooking dinner, the babies are in their high chairs and need constant “guidance” I suppose is a good word for, “don’t throw your food on the floor” “give that back to your brother/sister”
And listening to:
To: a flat out crying whining session.
Alan asks me questions, he wants answers to this or that , he takes my shortness as bitchyness but I don’t mean it like that. I’m just suffering at that point with information overload. My brain can only handle two things at a time, but loves it when it’s only one thing at a time.
Feeding the babies
Having a conversation
Ect. Ect. Ect.
So this I know now, need to communicate with husband. Problem solved.
I realized something else about myself yesterday. I’ve been getting frusterated by the babies behaviors on things that only matter to me, not them. For example, every night, day, since they’ve been born I always try to make their sleeping quarters cozy and nice with little blankets and pillows and their favorite stuffed animals propped up in the bed ever so special, with different books each night. Since we converted the beds I’ve still been doing this. We would get out of the bath, Jack and Fiona would tear the bed apart, throw everything on the floor and start jumping. I would get mad, keep remaking their beds, say goodnight, leave the room, bang, bang, bump, thump. In the morning everything would be on the floor again. Last night I left their beds clear. I folded the blankets, put them on the floor, put the favorite stuffed animals and pillows on the futon where I read books, and when they got out of the bath and ran to jump on their beds I wasn’t stressed at all. I felt a great relief and felt silly, The nest is my thing, not theirs.
As I put them to bed last night I stayed a little longer. We read books, then turned off the lights and snuggled together on the futon with all the stuffed animals. I rubbed their little heads and feet, we whispered the goodnight song to all the toys and people we know, although this was mainly just between Jack and I because Fiona can’t hear whispering without her hearing aids on. But she enjoyed cuddling.
“Goodnight all the people we know” I said.
“Goodnight peoples” Jack said.
“Danny, Grandma,Leopard, panda bear, billy, daddy, linda, ava, tyson, lindsay” I whispered, Jack reapeated all the names back and added more, “Bruce” oh, how sweet, he still remembers Bruce only after meeting him twice. Technically Bruce is like a grandpa, he was my only father figure for most of my life. Somehow Jack knows this, he connects to Bruce on a very deep level.
We live and we learn. As I’ve been writing Jacks stopped coughing, I hope he gets some nice rest this morning.
We have more house guests coming today for the weekend, Alans friend from Ireland and his new wife. It outta be interesting. I’m just going with it. Going forward I’m really going to focus on not letting these little disruptions rattle my brain. I have no idea why newlyweds would want to stay at a house with toddlers for their weekend in San Francisco? Alan doesn’t even talk to this friend, ever. If I was them I’d stay in the city. There’s so much to see and do. Maybe the wifes pregnant?
Anyhow here’s to the weekend and learning and living.