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www.jennyhynes.com/

Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes

  • Mother’s Day

    May 11th, 2015

    Mother’s Day has been heartbreaking every year since my mom died. With the pressure to have children. With the disappointments and stress of infertility. I would walk around in a deep fog of sadness. I would avoid the stupid grocery stores with all their propaganda. Last year the babies were three months old, I was so sad because I just wished my mom could be here too. This year I felt different. In the morning I took Billy for a walk and then went to Yoga. Alan stayed home with the babies. I had time to do a meditation before yoga class. As we did our sun salutation’s I felt my heart open as I raised my arms up to the sky. I felt distance between my shoulders and ears and a deep emotional connection to myself. My eyes filled with tears. I thought of my mom. I thought of myself. I am simplifying.

    momandernie

    4:48 A.M. Monday morning. Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t write yesterday, made a choice not to. Mother’s Day. My poor baby Jack is sick. He has the cold Fiona had, but got it much worse. We laid low yesterday. Should have stayed home the night before. Let Jack rest. We had to go to a function. A Church thing. It was on right at dinner time, 5:00. We stayed as long as we could but the babies started getting unruly. We walked out the door and I said, “Ah”, let out a big sigh. It was so stuffy in the Church.

    As we walk into Our Lady of Loreto Church we say hello to family members already sitting in their row. We explain we may not be able to stay long. “Babies cry.” Says a brother in law. “You’ll be in good company, its O.K., babies cry.” He continues. Other people saying, “Yeah” agreeing with him. Does anything sound more miserable than sitting for a service in Church, wanting to respect the members and having two babies screeching and wanting to get up and get free? One baby sick, the other baby getting sick. Everybody’s hungry. It’s dinner time, bedtime, bath time, bottle time. Now Jacks way sicker than Fiona. A mother’s instinct. I knew I needed to keep the babies home. But to please my family I took them out. It’s one of the hardest things about being a parent. Staying true to what I believe. Even when doing so upsets people I love.

    flowers

    I’m in recovery mode, healing mode. I have to put me, Jack and Fiona first. I’ve been through a lot. I’m learning to love myself again. Maybe for the first time since I was a little girl. Before all the terrible things I went through. I’m learning not to be so hard on myself. To give myself a break. It’s a lot of hard work.

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  • The things we won’t remember, and the things we do.

    May 9th, 2015

    As I touch the high chair a memory passes through my mind. Cleaning the throw up that time Jack and Fiona had a really bad flu. I was so worried, the projectile vomit, the temperature, the lethargy. Things jack and Fiona won’t remember. I woke up early, it’s a foggy morning. The babies are still in the nursery. I don’t hear Fiona, but Jacks been babbling.  It’s the babbling that melts my heart. It’s so cute. Yesterday after my Yoga Class, walking down the stairs to Play Center, I felt like x-mas morning. The old x-mas morning before my mom died. “Hi Jack and Fiona” I say. Jack runs to me, the fat on his little cheeks jiggling, he’s smiling, making a noise of pure joy, I pick him up. Fiona comes next.

    meandpeanuts

    I’m running behind peanuts trying to lasso her. I’m six years old, my mom’s mom is still alive. It’s Fourth of July, we’re all outside in the back yard. Peanuts stops and WHAM, her hoof makes contact with my cheek. I remember a bit of panic by the adults, but what I remember most is my mom wrapping me in a blanket, letting me sit up front in the old green dodge dart on our way to the doctors. The doctor stitches me up and says “You’re lucky she didn’t get you a few inches higher, you would have lost your eye.” He brings me a dark colored root beer flavored Popsicle.

    I remember my mom taking good care of me when I was sick or hurt. She even played along all the times I “Faked it”. I would sneak a drink of hot tea right before she took my temperature. She set me up with the orange afghan on the couch and let me stay home from school. I guess I never really liked school, once the kids started getting mean. It must have been fourth grade, we had to do a presentation in Mrs. Kaley’s class. I always hated doing anything in front of a group. I faked singing the whole time I was forced to stand up on stage and sing Christmas carols. I even faked playing the flute when we were in front of an audience of parents. I’m standing in front of the chalk board and the whole class starts laughing. The whole class. “Your zippers down.” Mrs. Kaley says. Everything is a blur after that, I was so embarrassed. The worst part was I was wearing a new pair of light blue bell bottom pants my mom bought me from K-Mart. I had a super cute outfit on. And they just laughed at me.

    Last night Fiona screamed super loud after she had gone to sleep. I go down to see if she’s O.K. Her nose is all stuffed up. I pick her up and cuddle her. I tell her “I’m so sorry baby, you don’t feel good.” But she can’t hear what I’m saying, she doesn’t have her hearing aids on. She can probably feel the vibrations in my chest as I talk, feeling the security of me just “being there”. I bring her upstairs and ask Alan to suck out some snot with the snot sucker and I give her some Tylenol. Alan brings her back down to her crib and she goes back to sleep. She won’t remember any of this.

    Both babies sound awake now. Bottles Time.

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  • The New and Improved Jenny Hynes

    May 8th, 2015

    I’m really liking my new attitude. I’m feeling much more relaxed by taking the pressure off myself. The idea of living an un-edited life is working for me. Yesterday I had to paint. I went into my studio, prepped the paper, had the colors in my mind already, and laid down the marks. One idea. I had to keep reminding myself to “STOP”. Walk away. This is a brilliant skill I’m learning.

    painting

    I pulled my neck muscle yesterday, another warning sign. Even at my reduced activity schedule with focus on relaxation and just being present I was still moving too fast.

    The babies and I have been having lots of fun. I made another successful dinner last night everyone enjoyed. A chicken soup with ginger, cilantro, carrots, sweet bell peppers, and potatoes. Jack and Fiona loved it, they practiced using their forks and spoons. They drank the broth out of the bowl. I felt proud that my babies ate a healthy meal. It’s difficult at this age. Most meals are quesadillas and berries.

    I have to be honest, the babies just went down for their nap, 8:25am. I’m on episode 4 of “Secrets and Lies”. I’m addicted to that show and I want to watch one more episode while they take a nap. Old me, and nagging me says, “But you should paint.” Or do something productive. Or write a better Blog Post! But the me that is learning to treat myself kindly and give myself a longer leash says watch another episode!

    Although the babies are not yet sleeping. They only took one nap yesterday, they did this, babbling, playing, laughing. and wound each other up. My plan may totally fail today.

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  • A journal: 20 Days during the Pandemic. Getting back in the studio. Daily Writing and Studio Practice September 21st to October 10th 2020.
  • Blog
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  • Dirty Laundry Blog
  • My Peloton version 2
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  • Random Tips for twin parents

 

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