I’m finally warm, from my toes to my fingers. Didn’t sleep well last night, one of those achy, headache, cotton mouth, nights. Then to the doctor in the morning, undress, with the opening to the front, asks same questions as last time, I wonder, isn’t that part of my permanent record? The baby pictures on the walls and the pregnant women in the waiting room stir up discomfort, memories of discomfort, awkward bloody loser. Eat burrito in the car, catching up on the news [all week we listened to Signing Time while Jack and Fiona watched the DVD from the back seat of the minivan]. Come home, work in studio until my hands are like ice cubes and I feel cold from inside out. Decide to cancel my 3:30pm second doctor’s appointment, instead take hot bath, eat chocolate chip cookies I made last night, and here I am. The babies are just waking up from their nap, but Lindsay’s here until 5:00 so I have an hour and a half. There’s lots I should do, clean closet, put away my clothes, photograph and frame my work for Room show, and tidy up my artist’s statement and Bio. Is there another time I can do any and all of those things in the near future? Because I don’t have the energy to do anything else today, except make dinner. Nothing else. I need to rest and recoup.
My studio time went well today, still painting. I would have worked longer if I hadn’t been so cold and tired. I can hear Jack, Fiona, Lindsay and the babies upstairs and I just heard my husband get home. I am feeling scared someone will interrupt me. Someone did. Alan. Now he’s upstairs and I can hear everyone talking. That’s why I love mornings for writing, it’s the most reliable for quiet alone time.
Last night I made chocolate chip cookies. I showed Jack and Fiona how I made them, how they looked before they went in the oven and how they looked when I pulled them out. I held the hot tray with oven mitts, look at the cookies! Jack and Fiona were so excited. I put them in their high chairs, poured three glasses of milk, Alan made himself a cup of Irish tea. We all bit into our cookies, it was the most pleasurable moment I’ve ever seen Jack and Fiona have. Jack broke his cookie up, he had chocolate all over his face and hands, Fiona dipped hers in milk and took big bites. Not a word was spoken the whole time they ate their chocolate chip cookies. I told them about the Bunny cookie jar, how my mom would bake chocolate chip cookies and put them in the Bunny Jar. I wanted to do the same right then, but knew they were too young to be trusted with the Bunny Cookie Jar, it would definitely end up broken. I would be very sad. When we went down to bed Jack and Fiona went wild, jumping on their bed, taking a super long bath, playing until the very end. Then when I left the room they went quiet right away. Day well done.