Lights on, don’t know what time it is. “I peed my bed” says Jack. For a minute I suggest he sleeps in our bed for the rest of the night. We both think thats a bad idea. I get up, take off the peed sheets, blankets, and pillow, remake his bed and go back to sleep. Sore throat keeps me in bed longer than usual. I hear laughing and screaming, it sounds like it’s coming from outside. Pry myself from under the covers. What are they doing? Go upstairs, cold air rushing in, patio covered in white. Jack and Fiona naked, freezing. Alan yells, how bad what they’ve done is. The whole carton of new milk empty, splattered all over, whip cream container, six yogurt drinks all empty. Take Fiona and Jack in, put them in a warm bath. “I put milk on my body, mommy, we poured it on our whole bodies, our butts, my penis” Jack says. “On my butt and on my vagina” Fiona says. “Will Daddy still be mad?” Fiona asks. “What you did was very bad” I say. I dress them and we go upstairs and have breakfast. We might need to put a lock on the fridge. Alan says we don’t need to have candy in the house, they don’t need it to survive and they do this sorta shit when they’re spoiled. It all started with a game, Pie Face they got for Christmas. I may have put the idea in their head yesterday about a food fight. We were talking about pie face and I said I was going to get them each a can of whip cream and they could have a whip cream fight. They loved the idea. I think its my fault they got into the fridge this morning and had a food fight.
Category: motherhood
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A tea stain from a splatter on thick watercolor paper. One dark line encloses light pink, a red drip and green at the bottom is all I can see of a painting above my head on a shelf. One time I told my friend I was wanted to propose an installation piece to an arts foundation. I said it was going to be a display of heads on a shelf. She said I sounded crazy and they might think I’m talking about real heads. I saw a centipede yesterday while I was walking up the hill with Billy. The bug was crawling through a trickle of rain water. It was yellowish with tons of little legs and white antennas. It was a beautiful creature. Trampolines, video games, loud music, it was too loud at the amusement center we took Jack and Fiona this morning. I’m not good in situations like that. I had to wait in the car. I took a lavender soak when I got home to make me feel better. I concluded that I will never like loud places with flashing neon lights and I shouldn’t feel bad. I also realized I will never be O.K. with being in a car with my whole family if they continue to all ask me questions at the same time. I never will, and I am going to tell the kids this, I’ll just tell them it makes me grouchy so when I say “quiet time” it must be quiet time. The alternative is to listen to my head phones? But then I feel rude. But it may be the solution. “Mama’s freaking out guys, Mama needs a break, I’m gonna listen to music for fifteen minutes”. Is that weird? Should I do it? I don’t like feeling bitchy and annoyed.
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On the brink of nuclear war is what the headline says today. I sit at my computer screen in early January it seems dark and gloomy. My house seems like a mess, dirty things everywhere. The kettle pops. I pour boiling water over my chamomile tea bag. Socks on the floor, groceries on the counter, left over breakfast on the table, overconsumption, waste. I sit at my computer; my dog moves to be right near me. It’s quiet. I stop panicking just a little. I’m shaky and nervous that my husband will bring Jack and Fiona home sooner than expected. I look out the window and notice the sky behind the bare branched Sycamore tree looks like winter. Jack and Fiona’s birthday is in less than two months. I had my first facial today since before they were born. The esthetician reminded me I was lucky to ever have had one, that it’s a luxury to be able to have a facial. My skin feels so good, my inner body is still tense, I can’t relax inside. I feel panicked. Catastrophizing. A seriousness and a sadness. I need more time alone to think. To paint. To meditate. To do nothing. These are luxuries too. Quiet, alone, time. The kids and I have been having a great time together. We love each other so much. They are wonderful human beings. I love spending time with them, being their mother. Feelings and moods take over. I feel guilty for wanting more alone time and we could be on the brink of a nuclear war. I still need more time even if the worlds ending and I love being with my kids. Dizzying. I miss my studio.