“I’m not picking that up again.” I say as Jack throws his bottle on the floor. MMMM Good cup of coffee. I haven’t put on Fiona’s hearing aids yet. O.K. On, done with their bottles they cried so hard in the five minutes it took to make them. Only drinking a tiny bit. Twins are exhausting. It does get harder. I received this e-mail about a piece I shared on the twin club FB page. My piece was censored and removed. The name of the person who sent the e-mail being withheld to respect privacy, name of club not being said out of respect. She writes: “We also try to keep things a little more positive and encouraging for our members since having twins can be overwhelming( especially new twins) and we would like people to feel supported and feel like they can do this. Because they can and it does get easier!” I agree, anyone can, but it does not get easier. It gets more overwhelming and I think this is information people having twins need to know. They need to be scared shitless. I wake up this morning, slept good, still sore and groggy. Babies awake. Walk into nursery, need to find new ways to pick up Jack and Fiona, hands hurt from picking up traditional way, back hurts from leaning over picking up awkward ways to protect thumb joints, hips hurt from carrying a 20 and 30 pound baby up and down stairs, putting into car seats, high chairs. Tired from the never ending mess, mess that if I let go one day becomes a thick layer of crumbs and goop on floor and counter. Dishes pile high, high, high, diapers sprawling out into the sky. Infants are easy, they weigh 5 lbs., they can’t get hurt, yeah they need a lot of feedings all night and day, loss of sleep is a bitch and when I first had the babies I was overwhelmed with all the bottles, formula, breast milk, baby clothes, and dirty diapers. That phase seems like a piece of cake compared to now. Maybe this is the no Zoloft talking, but it is annoying that someone said I needed to be more positive when I’m speaking the truth. I’m a realist, I knew having twins would be work. Everyone told me that same bullshit how it gets easier and having two is easier because they can play together. I’m gonna say it again, LIES! Sorry. Its way more work. Don’t have much time to write today. Therapy at 9:30, headed to my studio after. Need to clean kitchen, change diapers, and take a shower, oh and do laundry. Can’t forget the load in the washer again, needs to go into dryer. Don’t Forget.
Category: introspection
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I need to get alone time with each of the babies, especially Fiona to work with her language skills. I’m feeling really tired, starting to stress. I question the office visits and whether I was right to stop taking the pills. Dr.Scott said, “You should take Prozac.” He is my old OBYGN, I felt red in the face and mad. I thought he was being sexist. Then a year later, my new female doctor says the same thing. I’ve only taken them for 6 months. I am against pills. But when I started taking them my body was feeling physical pain. Broken uterus. Thought I was broken. Thought I had uterine cancer. Ovarian cancer. Was going to die, my fibroids were going to burst out of my belly. All the tests came back fine. Started taking Zoloft. PMS disappeared. But I don’t want to take anti-depressants forever so I had to stop taking them cold turkey. I had to make the decision and stick with it. So today as I’m feeling tired and in pain I start to question all my decisions. Or Am I just tired? Or somewhere in between? I’ve told very few people. The only light on in the house is my computer screen. I’m alone in the dark typing. Alan is not home from work yet, the babies are asleep. They went crazy tonight when I took off all the cushions and made crash landing pads on the floor. I was right about that pollen, it’s thick. The crows are back, cawing. The monitor is quiet, I have the right one this time. It’s hard to imagine now that the past four days I had boundless energy. Today I crashed. When Ramona arrived I laid down on my bed trying to figure out what I could cancel today. I decide to take Billy for a walk. Bugs were all around us. I brushed her coat first. Thick chunks of fluffy, black, fur flew onto the ground that still has pieces of Zappas poop. It was the first time we were up at the dog house since Zappa died. I had to get the brush. We walked on the trail, no other people around, no raccoon incidents. I had to remind myself to stop, take a deep breath, count to ten, inhale-exhale, when the thoughts come in, I let them pass through gracefully and exit my mind. This works, my body relaxes, especially my neck and shoulders. Then when I get back I decided to take Fiona with me on my lunch date. She seemed so happy and was a perfect little angel.
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“Time to go for a walk babies, do you want to take Billy for a walk?” I say. We just finished eating pasta for dinner, “This is how we wash our face, wash our face, wash our face, this is how we wash our face early in the evening.” I sing as I clean Jack and Fiona’s spaghetti sauce faces. I do a good enough job, grab both babies out of their high chairs, and carry them down the stairs, Jack slipping out of my arm, I make it to the bottom without dropping one, set them both down. I open the door to the garage, “Look Daddy’s home.” I say. Alan is putting out the trash. Jack and Fiona scurry around the garage, touching things they shouldn’t touch, playing with a half put together toy dump truck we got for their birthday. (Alan put the wrong screw in one of the wheels, it’s kinda messed up) I go grab Billy, she’s shedding like crazy, big clumps of hair. When I bring her down Alan has Jack and Fiona in the B.O.B. for me. “You guys need to learn how to do this” I say as I brush some of the clumps of hair off Billy. I imagine Jack and Fiona brushing Billy, loving her, taking care of her. She’ll probably be dead though before any of that actually happens. First we walk down the hill, “Billy’s sniffing, she loves to sniff, come on Billy, whoa!” she stops and pulls me backwards, “Billy, come on, you’re not going to pull me backwards on hills today, LET’S Go Girl!” I say. “Look at the trees guys, oh my god it’s going to be a bad night for pollen, can you feel the pollen in the air?” I say. Past the playground, is it really that bad? I really like the big Oak Tree. Up the next hill I’m laughing out loud. Smiling, thinking am I crazy? Crazy happy? Why do I have so much energy tonight? I imagine People think I’m crazy when they hear me talking and laughing while walking Billy and the babies. Before the babies came Alan used to always tell me, “Stop talking to yourself.” Now technically I’m not talking to myself, I’m talking to Jack and Fiona. I’ve always talked to my dogs. It’s natural. “Do you see the trees? The half-moon in the sky? The single dove on the telephone pole? Look at this pinecone. The sun, no wait the sun is already down. Babies, the sun is already down, but we’re lucky, we’ll make it home before dark. Oh my gosh, what if today was the last day we saw the sun? We had a good day at the park so I guess it would be O.K.” I think about it, the last day, that day will come. My new motto is “Keep on Movin’ Keep on Groovin’. Keep the wheels turning, that kind of thing. Yesterday it happened again, I got the babies down for their nap. I had to give them a bath first because I don’t use wipes at the park. They had dirt on their legs, food on their faces, just messy! I watched the other moms at the park wiping the hands and faces of their babies several times. Sometimes thoughts will appear in my mind, “Do they think I’m a slob? I’m really dirty?” Even Alan has made comments after meals that I haven’t cleaned their faces good and they are going to break out. Interesting huh? I wonder why people are so into cleanliness. Anyhow the babies were taking their nap, I had all my workout clothes on the floor because I was going to go through them and turn some into painting rags. I had to tell myself, “Just do it really fast” and I did. But then I came upstairs to get some water, I had decided I NEEDED to go to my studio and paint for a minute. Kaboom! The kitchen is a complete disaster, after the park I brought everything up and set it on the center Island. I find myself walking around in circles picking up stuff, putting things in the sink, in the fridge, in new piles of like items. “STOP!” I say to myself. “Grab the baby monitor and water and Go to your studio!” I can finish cleaning later. I get into my studio. I’m feeling super inspired again, is it the babies? Their passion for life? I don’t know but I’m feeling freedom. I paint fast and into new territories. I’m excited by the drawing I’m doing, the unconscious feeling I have when I paint with my few remaining usable paintbrushes, the palette I’m using. The colors show up in my mind, I mix them. The restraint I am commanding to not over work every single piece. Although I have a huge pile of overworked pieces. Its 5:30, I can’t believe the babies have slept so long. I finish up in my studio and go inside. All is quiet, but I realize I had the wrong baby monitor. Oh well, they needed that rest and I needed to work in my studio no matter what.
I hear the babies waking now. It’s 7:21 A.M. Friday morning. Linda from Early Start is coming at 8:00 to work with Fiona. I’m excited, it’s been a few weeks and I feel Fiona is doing really well. Last night in the stroller she was saying “Mama” It sounded so cute. She’s months behind Jack, he’s starting to make some very interesting sound combinations, I had dreams two nights in a row he was talking to me. Fiona will catch up, in time. I better go get the babies now and get dressed myself.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 