You will survive the doctor says. I sit on the edge of the exam table on a Saturday afternoon. I can’t believe I got an appointment. Just drop me off, I tell Alan. Take the kids to the park. I’ll figure out what to do after. I’m sick again, or having a relapse, maybe rheumatic fever. Maybe I’m just PMS’ing, perimenopause, maybe menopause. I say this to the doctor. I wipe tears off my face. I’m sorry, I’m just breaking down. The nurse took my blood pressure twice, its low, 84 over 55. Same both times. It looks like this has happened before. She says reading my chart. When she leaves the exam room I start to cry. I hope they don’t keep me, I hope I don’t get rheumatic fever or congestive heart failure. Hearts aren’t strong in my family. That’s why I’m taking the celexa. Do you ever meditate? The doctor asks me. I think it would help a lot, she says. I did before. Before Jack and Fiona were born. I tell her. I’ve started going to Yoga again recently, but haven’t been in a month because of this stupid sickness, cough, sinus infection, never ending. How old are your kids? The doctor asks. Three and a half. Yup, do they go to daycare? Yes, I say. You will be sick until they are six she tells me. So, I’m not dying? No, and you can’t get Rheumatic fever since you took the MOX anyhow. My grandpa had rheumatic fever, it kept him from going to d-day she tells me. Everyone in his battalion died. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for rheumatic fever. The doctor tells me. Wow! I say. I tell her how my grandma used to tell us the story of having rheumatic fever when she was a child. How it affected her life. They didn’t have the antibiotics until 1965 says the doctor. There’s always drama around those stories she says. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed when you are sick with the responsibility of having to take care of kids. Get some rest, drink a hot toddy, and start meditating. Doctors parting words.
Category: Insomnia
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Two Jack o Lanterns peer at me, their orange hallows glowing and flickering. The moon low in the sky behind shining bright yellow. The crickets purr, the sky is clear and starry. My babies are asleep, I’m sitting outside and don’t even need a blanket.
Today, the pumpkins were sitting on the counter when Jack and Fiona woke up from their naps. Jack was intrigued, he touched them, said “that” as he pointed to each pumpkin over and over again. Lindsay or I would say “the big orange pumpkin” or “the small orange pumpkin” I was so excited to share my love of squash with the babies. I roasted a little organic pumpkin to make pumpkin soup. Jack watched as I cut each vegetable in pieces. lindsay and I then drew funny faces on our pumkins while Jack and Fiona giggled. We tried to make the babies help us take out the seeds but they weren’t very productive. We roasted the seeds, which were a huge hit. Then the grand finale was when we showed Jack and Fiona the Jack O Lanturns glowing in the night. Jack wasn’t even scared!
It was so much fun.
Tonight I have the house to myself. It’s quiet and relaxed . I went down to work in my studio for the first time at night in a long time. It felt trippy, everything was so quiet and I guess I know In the back of my mind I could work as late and as long in my studio as I felt.
I liked what I made. Things came together, were clearer tonight than last. But the work I did Wednesday came into play today, so I was right when I said “no day is wasted time in the studio, even when I hate what I do, feel like shit, make a pile of shit, it’s priceless, I just need to control the self loathing”
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“Mama maaamaa” I hear Jacks sleepy little voice. He’s just waking up from his afternoon nap, I want to make sure he’s had time to adjust. I hear things being thrown out of his bed onto the floor. I better go see what he’s doing.
He’s ready, just a little crying as I change his diaper, but nothing that causes me stress. Fiona is next, I open the door and she’s clutching her teddy. I think she looks so sweet. She doesn’t whine much either, this is our second good day in a row. Today I’m the one who’s tired from wicked insomnia last night.It didn’t stop me from going to my spin class, I can thank my triathalon training for that. I always got insomnia before a race or before a big early morning training session. I learned to run, bike, and swim on little sleep. The class this morning was hard, the teacher didn’t offer any breaks. We went up and up, hills and sprints.My adrenaline kicked in and I got a great workout. I impressed myself.
“Be thankful for your bodies and that you were able to do this work out this morning” the teacher said when we were done.
I knew last night after the first two hours I wasn’t going to sleep much. I lay thinking about painting and writing, about all the cute things the babies did today, but my thoughts were foggy and unclear. I tried not to worry about how I was going to get through today on no sleep. It wasn’t going to do any good to worry.
I decided not to go to Early Start today, my goal was to rest, take a nap or watch a movie while Jack and Fiona took their naps.First I wasted $6 and forty minutes on a bad movie. I finally gave in, this movie was not turning around. I had an hour left so I decided to just peep into my studio. First I went outside and was reminded of how long it’s been since I’ve just sat outside under the bay trees.
There’s been no extra time, at least that’s how it’s seemed.When I walked into my studio I saw the paintings I had done yesterday and had to paint just a little, I was inspired. I ripped my paper and started with pencil, crayon, then watercolor and acrylic. Most were ripped up to be used as collage but at the end something happened. I was surprised, I thought I was way too tired to paint.
It’s 3:30 pm, I’m crashing now. I hear the babies playing together, the sound of wood rattling around, strange sounds and words coming out of the babies mouths. I feel if I were to peek around the corner to look at them I would be invading a private moment. They just ran into my line of sight, Jack has a see through plastic bucket on his head. Fiona is trying to catch him and take the bucket. She’s giggling, I’m smiling. Time to sit outside and wait for deer, crows, and the moon to appear. We will watch as the shadows move and it gets dark, then Jack will say, “mama” in a low worried voice. He’ll point inside the house letting me know he’s ready to go in.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 