A tea stain from a splatter on thick watercolor paper. One dark line encloses light pink, a red drip and green at the bottom is all I can see of a painting above my head on a shelf. One time I told my friend I was wanted to propose an installation piece to an arts foundation. I said it was going to be a display of heads on a shelf. She said I sounded crazy and they might think I’m talking about real heads. I saw a centipede yesterday while I was walking up the hill with Billy. The bug was crawling through a trickle of rain water. It was yellowish with tons of little legs and white antennas. It was a beautiful creature. Trampolines, video games, loud music, it was too loud at the amusement center we took Jack and Fiona this morning. I’m not good in situations like that. I had to wait in the car. I took a lavender soak when I got home to make me feel better. I concluded that I will never like loud places with flashing neon lights and I shouldn’t feel bad. I also realized I will never be O.K. with being in a car with my whole family if they continue to all ask me questions at the same time. I never will, and I am going to tell the kids this, I’ll just tell them it makes me grouchy so when I say “quiet time” it must be quiet time. The alternative is to listen to my head phones? But then I feel rude. But it may be the solution. “Mama’s freaking out guys, Mama needs a break, I’m gonna listen to music for fifteen minutes”. Is that weird? Should I do it? I don’t like feeling bitchy and annoyed.
Category: crazy stuff
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My book is listed under parenting right now. That’s not what I intended. I said MOTHERHOOD and FINE ARTS AND CREATIVITY. I just panicked over this and ran to my i-phone and sent two emails to the publishers that I want it to say: MOTHERHOOD, INDIVIDUAL ARTIST, and CREATIVE NON-FICTION. I’ve learned so much about computers, numbers, and codes, during the publishing process. I learned when you publish a book you gotta be real specific. It’s just the nature of the beast. I’m half-crazy now. If I was half crazy before does that mean I’m totally crazy now? I’m texting the gallerist asking her if she wants to peddle books with me!!!! I’m totally crazy!!! Amazing. And yesterday, when I said I was going to go with the flow, oh my god. I tried, I did the whole deal, a pancake lunch, a scooter around the city park, a trip to wild care. It was hot. And we were all tired. There was complaining every step of the way. Luckily, we all felt the exact same, me and my two kids, three-and-a-half-year old’s. I was horrible. I ate French fries and a crazy garden burger. Jack banged his forks and spoons and the lady next to us told him to hush. She turned out to be super cool. She helped me and wanted to talk. She showed me her swollen feet and showed Jack the Velcro straps on her shoes. Jack was being bad. When we got back to the car I saw this lady, a homeless woman I see a lot, but she’s usually looking down at the sidewalk. She whispered, “Any Change”. I thought I knew what she said, but I asked, “What?” She repeated, we made eye contact. I grabbed ten bucks outta my bag and handed it to her. Her feet were super dirty, red, and swollen. Her face burnt from the hot October sun, she had those red sores. The ones you get from tweaking and picking the skin off your face because you feel like there’s little bugs in your pores. I think we could be the same age. She said, “Really? Are you sure?” I said “Yeah” She walked up the street, past the place Jack, Fiona, and I just had our horribly behaved lunch, and looked back at me several times saying “Thank You”. When we got home my foot started to ache a bit. Then more, and more, and, more. The only thing I can equate the pain with was when I had a miscarriage. It was like my foot was convulsing in pain. I locked Jack, Fiona, and I in their bedroom. I laid down on the book reading futon. I tried everything, warm water, elevation, resting, deep breathing but it was like a nerve was being twisted and my foot was turning inside out. It started to swell and turn purple. I was freakin out. Jack started acting bad. He unlocked the door and ran upstairs to get into the fridge. I had to go up. I hopped to the stairs, and crawled up, one by one. I sat down and opened several string cheeses for Jack and Fiona. I took two Tylenol and after an hour the swelling went down, and the shooting pain dulled. Today the doctor said I had to have the surgery to remove my ganglion cyst growing outward, creating a whole new landscape on the sole of my foot. I’ve had it for years. My doctor told me to avoid surgery as long as I could. He said it’s dangerous and I could get an infection. But I can’t handle another flare up like the one yesterday, unless they give me some heavy pain pills. It was that bad.
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“STOP LOOKING AT YOUR PHONE” this cop shouts. I look his direction. “I’m not, really” I say. “YES, YOU ARE” he says. I didn’t like his tone. He had asshole written all over his face. I still should have said, “OK” and put my phone down. I wasn’t even looking at anything, except a big blob of a bright red and yellow and green circle that was hurricane Maria, at the same time I was listening about the earthquake in Mexico on the radio. I was also still wondering what kind of birds I’ve been seeing that fly in a flock and look like a cross between a turtle dove and a hawk, birds I’ve never seen here before. The light was red, when it turned green I turned right. I failed my first driving test because I didn’t turn right on a red. I learned to drive in New York where rights on reds were illegal and I was taking the test in California. Maybe the cop was annoyed at me because I was lollygagging. I was too numb to be on the go. I am too numb. The cop made me cry, a few tears came from my eyes and my body felt frightened. I felt scolded like a child and mad like a rebel.
“I love you mommy” Fiona said as I carried her in my arms, the top of her head was all purple. We were playing tag and she fell over a big tree. Her eyes were closing. “Wake up Fiona” I said as I carried her up the hill. I had been lost all night. As usual I couldn’t remember any phone numbers or find any phones that worked. There was a party at my house, shards of glass were on the floor, windows broken out. “What happened?” I said. “I have three-and-a-half-year old’s, you need to pick up this glass” At the top of the stairs I left the house. I walked through people, I saw a city scape and a mountain range. All the people I met were nice. They were artists and musicians and children. I kept trying to find out where my family was. I thought I was in Oregon but there was no smoke in the air. When I woke up I was surprised how deep I had fallen back asleep. I woke up sometime last night with insomnia, afraid to look at the clock. I thought I would be up for the rest of the night.
A giant spider just crawled up my wall. Dark brown, menacing. Billy the dog is laying down at my feet and the house is quiet. There’s only moments left before I must take a shower and pick up the little ones. Jack didn’t want to go to school today, he said he was scared, that kids were hitting and pushing him. I don’t know if it’s true or not. But it reminded me of what a cruel world it is. As much as I have protected and nurtured and poured everything into raising my babies they will eventually be exposed to all the things we think are true about life but turn out to be untrue as we get older. Fiona told me she wanted long hair, like her friend. There’s no way for me to alter their course anymore, how they respond to peer pressure. I will always have conversations with them and in the end when they are old my teachings will be in their core just like my moms are in mine. But my children are individuals, I don’t control their minds, they are free, just as I have always been free. It was a strange feeling when I saw this door opening, this future door.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 