I feel strange, almost nauseous as the pink silicone mold material is squirted into my ear. It’s cold. I can feel it expanding. I am getting my own listening tube made so I can check Fiona’s hearing aids. I try to get Fiona’s attention, show her I was going through what she has already gone through today and for the past seven months. She wasn’t very interested. We have been at the audiologist for an hour and a half, she is ready to go explore. Fiona sat in the hearing test room on my lap while Linda distracted her with toys. Dr.Robert made different sounds and Fiona was tested to see if she would turn to the direction the sound was coming from. There is a box with a flashing light on and a little stuffed teddy that bangs cymbals when she looks the correct direction. Dr.Robert is outside the room using his audiometer box to test her hearing frequencies. She’s doing so well, this is our second time doing this test. The first time Fiona didn’t respond to the soft sounds and I was told our household was very loud and Fiona was most interested in loud sounds, not soft ones. I felt like a child being scolded, people always tell me I have a loud voice. I have made an effort to reduce the volume around here and Fiona did respond to the quieter sounds this time. This morning we are hanging out in the living room, Jack starts to grab Fiona’s hearing aid. I take it out and put it in my ear. It sounds like hearing under water, there’s a delay. It must be strange how Fiona wears hearing aids sometimes and not others. It’s like two different worlds. Her hearing aid molds are too small now, they buzz all the time. The new ones won’t be ready for two weeks. When we are finished with the examination. We go to the front desk to make our next appointment to pick up the new molds. Dr. Robert is really busy, the receptionist says. She looks on her computer, talks to the doctor and tells me we can come in on March 19th. I pause: Thoughts are running through my head, that’s my birthday, I want some time to myself on my birthday, is that selfish, Fiona should come first, don’t I want her to hear? I can’t put off picking up her hearing aids, she’s already losing two weeks of language development. I don’t have anyone to watch the babies that day anyhow. We’ll make a day of it. The three of us can go have fun then stop by and pick up the ear molds. O.K., I tell the receptionist March 19th is fine.
Category: introspection
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First Jack then Fiona. I am wondering if the smell of the alcohol reminds them of the last time. There’s a delay after the first shot is given, then the face turns beet red, the mouth opens wide, the eyes shut, the cries and screams start. I pick up each baby after their turn to get shots. I hold them close and tell them everything’s O.K. cuddles and tickles, they are fine. AAAAAAHHHH, I take a deep breath of relief, one year vaccinations done. After the two week incubation period I can go out with Jack and Fiona, not worrying about the measles. It’s the first time I’ve brought Jack and Fiona to the doctor by myself. The morning goes smoothly and we’re in the car by 9:40am. We’re calm and we don’t need to rush. The waiting room is filled with sick children wearing face masks. I think to myself we’ve already had so many flu’s and cold’s I’m not going to worry about this today. In the exam room Fiona and Jack point to everything, “Eh” they point to the otoscope “Eh” they point to the door and the light on the ceiling. They point to the drawers with the masks, tongue depressors and alcohol swabs hidden inside. It’s Fiona’s turn for her examination, I take off her clothes, put her on the scale, 20lbs, a lot lighter than Jacks 25. She’s measured, grew 3 inches. Jack was examined last week, while Fiona was home sick. The nurse comes in with the vaccinations. She remembers us from our visit six months ago. I wish I remembered her name, she’s really sweet and gentle and wears a pin that says I speak Baby.
We leave the doctors and I decide to go to the mall for a chai and to let the babies check out the toddler play area. At Peets I see a customer there, an older man who I saw four months earlier. I was sitting outside with Joanne, Jack and Fiona were sleeping in the stroller. This man asked me if the babies call me “Grams.” I said “no, I’m their mother.” He said he was sorry for putting his foot in his mouth. He has a daughter who is pregnant with her second. I am older than her but I’m not sure by how much. While I was trying to have kids as the years went by I would say not after I’m 35, not after 36, not after 40. Jack and Fiona were born when I was 42. I was so worried what other people would think, or more that I would die early like my Mom and her parents and leave the babies too soon. Now I see none of these worries even matter, although as I crouched down and played with my one year old twins in the dingy, dirty carpet, mall play area I felt uncomfortable with the old man and his daughter looking at me. I felt like they were wondering how old I was. Jack went over to visit them and try to get a piece of their Peets treat. The old man asked me when I knew I was having twins. I couldn’t think of the answer, Jack was trying to run out of the play area into the mall. I decided it’s time to leave.
Jack, Fiona, and I go to chipotle and have the best time sharing a quesadilla I feed to them in tiny little pieces. After we buy a frozen yogurt and take our yogurt onto the large fake grass area. I take the babies out of their stroller and have to run and catch them every 2 minutes, they keep running onto the concrete area. I worry they will fall and crack their heads and skin their little knees. I try to entice them with the frozen yogurt. I dip my spoon into the chocolate vanilla swirl yogurt, it’s so good. I give Jack and Fiona tastes, it comes right back out of their mouths, they don’t have the same experience as me. Jack starts to like the raspberries with just a bit of frozen yogurt. We make our shirts all messy, I chase them around the lawn, and we laugh. I’m feeling good. Jack cries once when I start to run from him thinking he’ll chase me. I run back, grab him, spin him around and he looks delighted. I manage to keep the babies awake on the drive home, I’m listening to Sirius new wave, first the Clash then Yaz. We come into the house, play for a while, I give them showers and bottles, and dress them in clean clothes. Then put them down for their nap. Now I am enjoying my time to write.
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“WOOF” “WOOF” “WOOF” I hear. “BILLY” I yell out the back door. She’s not there, sounds like it’s coming from the front. “Billy! Come here! Sorry Nancy!” I say. “She was in my yard, I tried to let her out but she jumped over the fence.” Says Nancy. “I’m so sorry” I say. Nancy starts walking up to my front door. I haven’t had time to pick up the dog poop, I’m so embarrassed, it stinks. Nancy walks up the steps, “Don’t get too close, we’re infected with the flu.” I say. “I just wanted to let you know Billy was drinking from our fountain, it has stuff to kill mosquitos.” She says. I think it will be O.K., since the stuff doesn’t kill birds. I don’t have any of those cute pictures or videos everyone posts with their babies and their dogs. Billy’s not that kind of animal. The vet says she might be part wolf because of her long legs and wolfy personality. I think that’s why my mom chose her. Vikki saw Billy’s picture on the Clear Lake SPCA web site. “Jenny I found my dream dog.” She tells me. “I’ll take you to get her.” I say. It’s a three hour drive up to Clear Lake, on the 101. We drive past the exits for Guerneville and Mendo. It’s beautiful up here. My Mom is really nervous, when we get into Clear Lake we get lost. The shelter is closing soon, my mom is panicking. She starts to cry. She recently lost two dogs, Riply and Mingus. Riply survived way longer than she was meant to, my mom even had a leg amputated to cut off the cancer. Riply lived a whole year after that. I never saw my mom so depressed and sad after Riply was put to sleep. We drive down a long dirt road and arrive at the Clear Lake SPCA. My mom only got to enjoy Billy for three months, she died that December of a massive heart attack. Alan and I took Billy and Zappa to live with us. Zappa is old and incontinent so she has to stay outside in the dog house. Billy sleeps outside too. It’s been hard to keep her in the yard. She likes to go after the Raccoons and coyotes. The other night when I put her out she was all wound up, in the morning she had a gash across her face. I don’t know if it got caught on a fence or a raccoon’s razor sharp claw. The first couple of weeks after the babies came home when I went outside to be with Billy I would cry. She looked at me like I had betrayed her. It was just me and her for so long, we’d get up in the morning take a long hike. We were always together. This morning Jack fed Billy a piece of toast all by himself. Billy loves the babies now, as long as they are in a high chair or stroller. It’s really hard to give so much love and care to so many beings at one time. To make sure they each know how much I love them. To give equal attention to everyone, including myself and my husband. Sometimes I feel like I can’t do it, like I’ve run out of words and feelings. There’s such a strange area of doing all the things that need to be done, loving all the creatures that need to be loved, and just being present. It’s easy to get lost.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 