“MMM it’s good.” I say. “What’s good?” says Alan. (He stayed home from work today because of the rain.) “My Green tea”. I say, it’s really good. I put the honey I usually put in my coffee on my toast with Banana and almond butter. Jack and Fiona are still sleeping, it’s 7:19 AM, this scares me. Whenever they sleep unusually late they have been sick. I can hear little noises on the monitor, Alan has decided to go down to get them. This is very nice of him. I’m missing Jack and Fiona right now though, I’m missing going in and saying, “Good morning” Giving them big hugs and cuddles. I don’t miss changing their diaper. Alan just brought up Fiona, I grabbed her gave her a hug, put her in the high chair, but all she really wanted was her bottle. I have everything ready. When Alan got home from work last night he wanted to cuddle the babies but they kept coming to me. They wanted to go to bed. Ah Jack, he gave me the sweetest smile and cuddle. I wonder if it’s OK to have a second cup of green tea. “Wait let me finish this really fast.” I say to Alan. (Several Times) A lot of talking, questions, conversations are happening right now that are breaking my concentration. I had some time in the studio yesterday. I have an idea, prep the paper, lay down some paint. I like what first comes out, I’m doing self-portraits, need to let them dry. Multi task, work on the laundry and clean my closet. I go back to my studio. I HATE them, I start working, nothing’s happening. I start to panic. I want to smoke some pot. But I don’t because I’m cutting back in preparation for my cleanse next week. I leave again, work on more chores. Come back, mix some new paint, new colors, the creativity is finally starting to flow. I’m excited. I am liking how these are turning out. I lean towards dark colors when I’m PMS’ing and self –loathing. I usually cover everything up with black paint and throw it in the trash. This is a definite improvement. That is the other thing the Zoloft did, it removed my self-loathing component. How does it do that? I did it by myself yesterday though which is great news for me. I am changing. Naturally.
Category: motherhood
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Our night lasted until 8:30, at which time we asked Gordon, the bartender at the Silver Peso to call us a cab. “Forty somethings like you, no offense, want a flat yard.” Says the real estate agent sitting next to us at the bar. Why would I take offense at being called forty something? I’m thinking. I am forty something. Should I be offended at myself? Before we started talking to our neighbors Alan and I were having a great time people watching. We get to the bar after leaving the restaurant and taking a stroll around the town. I feel like I’ve never been to a bar before. I order a vodka with grapefruit. I only had one delicious cocktail at Picco because I can’t drink a lot and I really wanted to get a drink after. I take a sip, it’s a one drink kind of bar. It tastes like pure vodka. There is a drunk woman next to us yelling at a guy, “You don’t even know how to order a beer in French and you studied French, I studied Spanish and I know how to order a Cerveza.” He’s gets very quiet. She gets upset, stands up and walks to the other side of the bar to talk to some other guy. Alan said she is the bar slut. I said “How do you know?” He said “Will ya look at the head on her.” It was entertaining for a minute. Then the scene seemed depressing. I twiddle my fingers until our cab comes. The babies were sound asleep when we got in. It was the latest we’ve been out since they were born. I wanted to see them so bad! I go in the nursery this morning, both babies are awake. I take them up and give them a big hug. I take off their pajamas and dirty diapers. Jack starts running around banging cabinets and drawers and peeing on the floor multiple times. I clean up the pee and dress both babies in outfits for the day, our Sunday trip to the beach. “Berries, Berries, they love to eat their Berries.” I sing over and over again. Sunday morning. Coffee, bottles, banana. Alan’s making eggs, bacon, sausage, and mushrooms. I take care of Jack and Fiona and type a few words, between questions, “What time did they get you up this morning?” Alan asks. Or between reading The Little Blue Truck. I Put the babies down to play, sweep up the cheerios, strawberries. Butter our toast. “Do you want to start serving out the plates?” Alan asks, “But your bagels not ready yet.” I say. “MMMMM” thanks honey, “Good breakfast.” I hear gentle little pre-words Jack and Fiona make in the play room while I eat my breakfast, drink coffee and write. Alan sits at the Island drinking his tea, eating his breakfast and looking at news on his iPhone. Perfection.
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Brutal. Remedies not working for ailments. Bad period. Morning is here. I’m 44. Why do I still have cramps? Turn on the kettle. I need to go downstairs and get babies. So glad I dressed Jack and Fiona in pajamas without feet on them last night. All I have to do is change their diapers and bring them up stairs. Make my coffee, make some toast. Bottles made. Feed babies. Have breakfast and write. Need to take Billy for a walk today. Feel like going to see Wild Tales again. Bleeding too heavy to go for a long hike or yoga. Feeling sore and tired. Cramps. Going to get babies now. Put on toast. Babies squawking. Don’t listen to them any more while they whine. Block it out. Babies twist and turn as I change their diapers. We have our bottles, toast, coffee, bananas and cheerios. I’m excited to put on Fiona’s hearing aids for the first time in a week. Babies want to go play. I was just about to write how sweet they were being right now, they were so quiet so I peered out into the play area to see what they were doing. Jacks looking at a book, Fiona’s, “SHIT”, Fiona’s got a bottle of milk, the one I couldn’t find last night. It’s upside down spilling all over the place. Jack runs over and takes the bottle and starts drinking. YUCKY old milk. Jack has a poop, I take him to change his diaper. I hit his head on the side of the changing table. His face turns red, the deep inhale, he cries, I hold him and walk back and forth, putting extra entertainment in it. “I’m so sorry Jack, are you OK? I’m so sorry.” Is it almost nap time?
“OK, let’s make the bottles, go downstairs and call it a day. I don’t care what time you guys wake up in the morning. I just need a break”. Today was difficult. I’m bleeding, I got cramps, a raging head ache and no remedies. Vicodin should definitely be given to me for this time of the month. I can’t ask my doctor. He’ll think I’m a druggy. It’s my birthday. We have a roughish morning. I wanna have a special birthday with the babies. Babies won’t take their nap. We manage to get out of the house by 10:30 and arrive at the discovery by 11:00. Who cares what my doctor thinks, I should just ask anyhow. It’s the first time I’ve brought Jack and Fiona to the discovery museum since they can walk. I stayed away for the past two months because of all the flu’s and measles going around. I cancel my birthday lunch, I feel like there’s not enough time, it’s too much work making plans and coordinating with other people. (Moms lie so much. All I ever heard from moms when I told them I was having twins was “you’re so lucky, it’s so much easier with two. At first it’s harder but when they get a little bigger they can play together.” LIES, it’s ALWAYS going to be harder with twins) Instead of carrying each one into the Tot spot, plunking them down, running out to get the other one, I take Fiona out, set her on the ground feet first. She stays close holding the stroller while I take out Jack. He takes off. It’s exhausting already. I get both babies inside, there are lots of people here today. Jack and Fiona take it all in, they watch the kids running around. I’m getting annoyed. A nanny is trying to talk to me, “I’m definitely not going to be in this line of work when I’m 50.” She says. “It’s too exhausting.” (She’s watching one baby.) I’m too distracted trying to keep an eye on Jack and Fiona. I’m annoyed by the nannies on their cell phones, what are they getting paid for? I’m annoyed by all the parents and nannies who bring their purses in the play areas and leave them on the floor. Jack and Fiona want to get into all their stuff and take their water bottles. It’s just one more stressor for me. (Which today there are many) I don’t know what these people have in their bag, I’m thinking the babies are gonna take something out they can choke on. We go outside to Tot Spot adventure play area. It’s really cool with a tunnel, things to climb on, acorns, a puppet stage, and only one other person. We feel better out here, we’re nature people. We feel most comfortable around trees, the ocean, sand, grass, flowers and as few people as possible. I saw a great friend today. I was about to go home. Then I saw a text from one of my best friends who I haven’t seen in a long time. She is on her way to meet me for lunch. What a surprise! I still have time to have lunch. I feel so lucky, I am so happy to see Robin, the babies love her. I’ve missed her so much. I love her, she’s such a good friend. I down my Moscow Mule and Truffle fries while the babies eat pieces of grilled cheese, berries and fries. Half their food falls on the floor. I pick up as much as I can and leave an extra ten bucks for the bus boy. This lunch really made my birthday. The babies were fun at lunch too. It’s like being at a table filled with rowdy drunk people when you’re with your one year olds in a restaurant. Except everyone thinks they’re cute. People used to ask our table to “Please keep it down.” Now Jack can scream super loud and Fiona can throw stuff all over the floor and no one bats in eye. Maybe if I got drunk and acted crazy too we’d have a problem. Don’t worry if I ever do that I’ll call for back up. (Just kidding, I would never do such a thing.)
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 