Please let the quiet slumber of Jack and Fionas’ nap last a little longer. Give me a bit more time to relish in the peaceful sounds: the humming of the overhead fan, the creaking of the house, the fridge, chimes; sounds different and sacred, meshed together calmness I desperately need after the day I’ve had. Morning comes, as I wake to Fiona coughing incessantly, then calling out “momma, mommy, mommmy, momma”. I decide to get her, bring her upstairs with me, but as I go to the door I hear Jack crying what sounded like, “I want my pizza, I want my pizza, I want my pizza” I stood next to the door. Should I, shouldn’t I. It’s only 7:00AM. I decide to go upstairs and have my peanut butter toast and coffee first, maybe they will fall back to sleep I say to myself. Jack and Fiona quiet down and I enjoy my little morning coffee break. I make them breakfast as usual and go down to get them. They great me with smiles and stories about things they remember from the days before. Things seem normal, I’m not worried. I think about taking Fiona to the doctor for her cough, but that doesn’t stress me out. “I wanna watch Mickie Mouse” Jack starts saying. He has barely touched his breakfast, same with Fiona. I reduce my expectations, turn on Mickey Mouse and lay on the floor with the babies. We enjoy this time together, who cares if we’re learning to tune out, we’re together and we’re resting. I have a nagging, I know I can’t just stay home all day, we need groceries, I’ve been putting it off. I ask the babies if they want to go to the park. “No, no park” Jack says. I’m can’t believe it. “Do you want to go to the store?” I ask. “Yes” they do. I tell Billy “Stay here, we’re just going to the store”. We get our groceries and some new toys from T.J. Max and go home; I let both babies loose while I unload the car. I start to take things in. I start with the new toys, putting them in the babies’ bedroom, thinking it might keep them occupied while I put away the groceries and make the lunch. Right off the bat fighting occurs, “I want that!” then crying, hitting, pulling, annoying behaviors start to unfold. “Oh my god!” I say. I am looking at shredded blinds, splinters, pieces hanging off, pieces on the floor, all these thoughts running through my head: should I cut the whole thing off? How can I clean this? Who did this? Did the babies do it last night and I was too tired to notice this morning? What will Alan say? How mad will he be? Oh my God, Billy did it! She was so pissed I left her behind today. I start picking up the mess, Fiona helps me, picking up pieces of wood and putting them in the bag. I break off the broken slats of wood and roll the blind up far enough so the carnage isn’t visible. I vacuum and put the nursery back together. I hear Jack upstairs, “Oh my God!” he says. “What?” I yell. Silence. I grab Fiona, “We gotta go see what Jacks doing” I say. As I’m walking up the stairs I call out, “Jack, what are you doing?” He tells me he’s getting water. I see he’s sitting on the edge of the sink with his feet in. I put Fiona down and rush over, he has his feet right next to broken glass, I scan for red, pick up each soft, little, precious foot, no cuts. I look down and I see why he said “Oh my God”, Billy has gotten into the trash, there’s wet, stinky, coffee ground covered, banana peel, garbage strewn across the floor. I barely managed to get it swept up, lunch made and unsuccessfully served, and Jack and Fiona down for a nap before I snapped. I got them down just in time for my workout and hot shower to take the morning edge off, just in time to keep my sanity and not fall into some type of permanent fog of stress and disbelief. Just in time to realize that, that’s life, yesterday my dog was amazing, today she’s a damn bitch. Just in time to accept my children as being needy and needing my whole self, not just a portion, not just a side glance while my face plants on a screen. In time to have the break I need to appreciate life for it’s bad days, hard days, art days, and beach days. Just in time to say to myself, “I might not have time to paint today, that’s o.k., I can wait until I have time.” I hear Fiona waking now, Jack will be right behind her. I am here ready to slip into the evening routine, whether they are sick and needy or fun and healthy! I will be grateful for either and adapt to whichever it is, fully available as Mom.
Category: motherhood
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“Momma, momma, lets go look at the fig tree” Jack says. I’m following him out to the backyard as he tells me this. “O.K. Jack I’ll be right back, wait for me”. I run into the house to tell my dinner guests, Alan, and Fiona I’m going with Jack to look at the fig tree. “O.K. Jack, here I am”. We walk out the gate and Jack says “sit here”, so we sit down on the first step that leads to the fig tree. He looks at me, “Shhh, hear that?” with a twinkle in his eye. It’s the crickets, “we can’t see them, but now we can imagine what they look like, remember we saw one on our picnic blanket when we went hiking?” I say. I’ve been using that terminology a lot lately, imagination. I appreciate this break with Jack, this moment when I can follow him, I am not telling him “no, it’s dangerous”. It’s been a particularly hard week, exhausting, a few days I wasn’t sure I could make it till the end. I was intensely fatigued, yesterday at naptime I even fell asleep with Jack and Fiona. I haven’t been in my studio since Monday, or written. The first naptime this week I watched a movie, the next day the babies fell asleep in the car and I just drove. It was surreal, I’m usually being bombarded with questions from the back seat, but I found myself just driving in quiet, it was suddenly easy to drive. I drove until they woke up and we went to a second park! That night I fell asleep in their room putting them to bed. “Come on, lets keep moving” Jack says. We get up and he leads me the opposite way of the fig tree, we walk over the little bridge, along the path at the very top of the yard. My feet walking on the steps after his little feet, both of us barefoot. I realize this doesn’t have to do with the fig tree, Jack just wanted to spend time with me alone, I am grateful. It feels good, I am relaxed, I am following. We climb down the rope I strung between two trees on the steep hillside. Jack loves this. Alan comes out and I ask where are guests are, he tells me they left, “did you expect them to wait around?” I run out front to say goodbye and luckily catch them before they leave.
This week everyday felt intense, everyone needed my attention all at once. When I didn’t have enough to give, the baby who felt they weren’t getting enough attention from me would “act out”. I didn’t have a chance, or the energy to study for my CSET. I started questioning if I could even do it, take the test, have the energy, have the energy for a “real job”. It’s hard raising twins. That doesn’t mean it’s not wonderful and filled with the gift of self-knowledge and discovery. Jack and Fiona fill my life with love that is so big, so pure, so solid, but it’s grueling work, it’s not just physical or mundane, it’s extremely intellectual, brain fatigue, especially now, now that they can talk and ask questions, their quest for knowledge in insatiable. Their quest to push the limits physically keeps me on my toes, keeps me in fight or flight mode with my heart racing, worried they will crack their heads open. Woven into the intense moments are the quiet, sweet, moments like walking in the yard with Jack or reading a book with them snuggled up beside me, or hearing their breathing change as they go from awake to sleeping at bedtimes. The thought of Jack and Fiona going to school, being apart from them for any extended period of time scares me. I will miss them so much. The thought of them growing up and not being little kids anymore makes me so sad, even with this being the hardest, most challenging job I’ve ever had.
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First course: Edamame and cherry tomatoes, next chicken soup and cheese pizza. Jack and Fiona work on taking the peas out of the edamame shells and taking sips of soup, “mmmm” they like it, I fire up another pan on the stove, chop some garlic, add it to the pan, avocado oil, then the broccolini, it smells so good. I sear it, tossing it so the garlic doesn’t burn. I take the pan off the stove and slide the broccolini onto a large plate in front of Jack and Fiona. Steam rises up, I taste it first, “MMMM it’s SO good” I say. Jack and Fiona want to try it, we wait letting it cool a bit, then I hand them each a large stalk of broccolini. They ravage it, eating the tops first and moving down to the crunchy, garlicky, stalks. “More” they say. I share all the dark green deliciousness with them, everything but the seared pieces of garlic which I ravage myself. When Jack and Fiona are finished eating, (for now) they go play outside with Alan. I throw on a few chicken breakfast sausages, the Applegate farms they love, because I have a feeling they aren’t done eating yet! When the sausages are done they both inhale all the pieces I put on their plates. We sit outside and relax in the late summer air, it’s absolutely beautiful this evening. Fiona tells me she wants corn. “You want corn on the cob?” I ask. “Yes” she says. I sit for a few minutes and she starts crying, “Corn on the cobb, corn on the cobb” I get up and put the corn in boiling water. Fiona follows me to the kitchen, “Blue Blue, Tiny” she cries. I hold Fiona’s hand and we go downstairs to find Tiny. I realize in this moment that when they say, “mommy get it (blue blue)” they might want time alone with me. A quiet moment to spend together, to tell me something or show me something, without competition from their twin.
“Um…..I hear something, it’s the ballerina song, ballerina, rina, rina” says Jack. We have a Russian Ballet playing on the TV, Jack and Fiona are dressed in tights and tutus. Fiona is under the table, she peeks her head up. Jack begins to tap the window with the magnetic key we use to open the child locks on the cabinets. “Not too hard Jack” I say. He hits it lighter and lighter until it’s just a tap. “Yes, that’s perfect” I say. Jack begins tapping it harder and harder again until I remind him again that it’s glass and will break. He walks over to the cabinet and tries to open it, but he gives up quickly. He throws the key on the floor. “Jack pick that up and put it on the shelf, it’s important.” I say. “this shelf right here?” Jack says. “Perfect!” I say. You’re being perfect today I say to myself. I feel proud, like I’ve accomplished something, as if I’ve done my job right so far. Jack and Fiona ate broccolini and Jack pooped in the toilet all by himself. A milestone.
I hear the babies and Rosemary upstairs running and laughing, they are having so much fun. It’s Monday morning, my babysitter day. I’m trying to write in my room, I’ve been trying to write all weekend, but there’s never enough time and things are happening at a rapid pace. I’m thankful today for my break. I’m not planning on doing much! Laundry, exercise, studio, writing, studying. Now the babies have gone down to the park, all three in hats and sunglasses, they looked so cute. Rosemary is starting to warm up to me, she handed me a purple sage flower. I feel the need to cram English down her throat, I read books and try to use the techniques I’ve learned in my communication manuals from Early Start. I realized that Fiona and Rosemary are both in a similar situation. Both have to work extra hard to understand things in an English speaking hearing world. On Friday, I went to Dominican University to talk about their credential program. It was amazing, but WAY out of my price range. I’ve decided that I won’t pursue getting into a program until next fall. I will use this year for studying and taking the CSET, and all the other preparations as well as volunteering. I have also begun to do more observation with Jack and Fiona, taking myself out of an emotional, stressed, place, to a learning space. Taking time to listen to them, teach by not imposing, child led life! It’s helped a lot; For example, I took care of the hitting in one week. Once I realized it was a form of communication, it wasn’t just “being bad” I was able to figure out how to handle it. I found that a lot of it had to do with getting my attention from the other twin. When Jack hits me it seems he just needs extra attention, even a cuddle can help. It is remarkable what effects the littlest tweaks in my parenting style can have on unwanted behaviors.
It makes me think about yesterday. Alan, Jack, Fiona, Billy, and I went on a hike to Lake Lagunitas. It’s a three-mile hike, rolling trails around the lake. We decided not to bring the back pack carriers or the stroller! Quite a gamble I thought, but Alan said having the backpacks just makes them want to be carried. I agreed and took the chance. I didn’t know it was going to be 95 degrees out!! But I did expect to take lots of breaks, so my head was in the right place. We stopped at a bench right by the lake and watched dragon flies and ate watermelon five minutes into the hike. It went like this the whole way, stopping under the trees where swarms of woodpeckers flew around pecking and singing. Stopping and gathering pinecones and sticks and dirt that was “popsicles and dinner”. We stopped by the creek and ate lunch, and changed poopy diapers. We stopped in the middle of the trail and sat, “Lets relax” Jack said. I followed along, reminding Alan not to keep telling the babies to “come on”, to let them rest and explore and play in the dirt. Toward the end of the hike, where the trail turned into a fire road and the shade from the trees was gone we carried them for a small stretch. I started to get scared, I was afraid they were overheating and over tired. We got to the final stretch and Jack wanted to walk naked and barefoot. I let him. “Are you sure? You might step on a rock” I said. “Yes, I’m sure” Jack said. I let him. I let him walk naked in the stream at the end of our hike, I put my feet in the cold water. Alan didn’t let Fiona, he took her straight to the car because he felt like we were running out of time, we had early dinner plans with family.
Everyone will be back from the park soon, it’s time to exercise and work in my studio for a while. It’s such a beautiful day. August is half way over and fall will be here soon. I love fall.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 