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Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes

  • It’s Sunday Again! Sigh, Smile.

    April 12th, 2015

    Coffee. Studio time. These are the only two things I believe in strongly at this moment. I’m making the cup of coffee, studio has to wait till Monday when Ramona’s here. “Red skies in the morning sailors take warning.” I say this every time I see the sunrise. I’m setting my intention not to be hard on myself today. “MMM” this is the best damn cup of coffee ever. Oh, it’s so tasty. Allergies UGH. I don’t want to get depressing or macabre, and I won’t. I will control myself. (Just one rant O.K.?) It’s just the PMS. I feel like there’s no hope for the earth and it makes me sad. My second cup of coffee, I put too much honey in it on purpose. I’ve never seen so much poison oak growing EVERYWHERE in my whole life. I consider myself an expert on poison oak, being highly allergic to it and an avid hiker. I’ve heard that the rising carbon dioxide in the atmosphere helps weeds, like poison oak and ivy grow like crazy. That might also be why we all have such bad allergies this season. I stopped worrying about the earth and politics a long time ago. I was way into it, PETA, Kerry, Obama. I annoyed people with my passion for animals, the earth, equal rights. When the government shut down happened I lost all respect and hope. (For the organization) I also watched “Gasland” by Josh Fox, about Fracking. This really put the nail in the coffin. Now I feel like moving to Mendocino, growing my own food, homeschooling my kids, taking a shooting class, getting a gun to protect us from all the freaks and illegal pot growers. Becoming a recluse for real. But that’s not gonna happen. O.K. I’m done.

    As I took Billy on her walk yesterday (The babies were down for their second nap, Alan was watching Jack and Fiona.) I didn’t get a break all day, oh my gosh here I go again, see it’s that damn PMS. I walk by milkmaids, blue wild flowers. When I was a little girl I would wake up early, go for long walks in the back yard and the field behind our house.  I picked wildflowers for my mom. Alan wakes up, he comes in the kitchen sighing, “Oh Fuck”, not a loud Oh Fuck, but a muted one. He has to work in the office this morning. “I could of slept for another three hours.” He says. “Why didn’t you, and do your office work later?” I say. “You know how that goes.” He says. Alan takes his toast, tea, water, and IPad to the office. “Don’t slam the door.” I say. I hear Jack and Fiona starting to make sounds. It’s time to go get my babies. Change diapers, make bottles, and whatever else needs to be done. “Here I come babies.”

    “Freeeeeeeeee, they want to be free” My song for Jack and Fiona. They do. They want to be free. Last night in the nursery, feeling relaxed and amazing, I wondered, how can I bring this “At Peace” feeling into the days? Maybe I can’t, I have to be constantly “On Duty” every moment. I just closed the gates back up because the babies started playing on the stairs. It’s almost time for their morning nap. They are getting weak and tired and dangerous. I have to be making these choices for Jack and Fiona all day balancing freedom with safety. It’s exhausting. We’re taking the babies swimming today. I hope they like it. I’m excited! It’s gonna be a good day.

    Oh, I decided I’m not doing a cleanse. I’ll add the green juice every day, add more salads, kale and healthy foods. I think that’s good enough. The End

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  • The worst childproofing I’ve ever done and my Boy Jack just won’t give mama a break

    April 11th, 2015

    It’s 9:30am, Saturday. Fiona is asleep for her nap, Jack is not. I’m getting annoyed, we have reservations at Play Center at 11:00. Alan and I are planning to do the yoga class again together. I feel like Jack won’t take a nap now, he’ll get super tired and want to take his nap at 11:00, at that time Fiona will wake up. What do I do? He’s annoying me, I need to drink more of my PMS juice. “DAMMIT”! I punch my journal. (Not that hard) I go get Jack out of his play and pack, put him in his high chair, give him berries and toast. He’s sitting there, I’m sitting here typing. He’s eating, maybe he was still hungry.  I’m laughing and thinking about what my good friend Roz said yesterday (Via Facebook) “Surrender…complete surrender and you will have a fulfilling experience as a parent without (too many) regrets!” O.K. Roz, I take a deep breath, “Hi, Hi Jack!” I say. “He looks tired though.” I’m in Limbo, do I text Alan and tell him we may not make it? I really want him to do the yoga class. Do I call Play Center and cancel our reservations? I need to call a half hour before our reservation time to cancel. It’s almost 10:00.   Do I chance it and bring Jack even if he doesn’t take a nap and he’s likely to break down in play center? How can I surrender in this instance? I wish I knew. I just feel stressed.

    “Are you sure that’s not going to pull the paint off the wall?” Alan says.

    “I don’t think it will, I was just thinking if the babies couldn’t get their fingers under the foam they won’t be able to pull it off.” I say.

    I hear the sound of packing tape, I turn, look, “NO” I say in my firm “NO voice” I’ve used to warn them of danger. Jack and Fiona listen to me several times, I get super excited. They come over and give me a hug each time. This goes on for several rounds, I think it’s becoming a game.(They know nothings dangerous here) Jack pulls the light brown sticky packing tape down, inch by inch, I’m too tired to fight it anymore. It’s not taking any paint off the wall, it’s the worst childproofing I’ve ever done. He looks at me delighted, bounces up and down. He won. Fiona gets in there, she pulls the tape down, it’s sticking out from the wall, the dark brown foam is showing, it looks like a sculpture. Fiona touches it, she tastes it, “No” I say. She stops. Jack finishes the job stopping along the way to try balancing the dark foam piece on the window sill and sticking the opposite side to the wall. He pushes it several times to see if it will stick. It falls, now there is a Sharpe edge on the wall in the nursery again. The remains reminded me of art installations I’ve seen at the SF Art Institute. Like the sculptures with trash and a broom in the corner, a melted ice cream cone one the ground, I’ve got a treasure trove of moments like that. I always thought that kind of art was dumb, it seemed fake. But I think I could actually get away with it now, I’m the real deal.

    I was going to start my cleanse today. I figured Monday would be too hard after a weekend of debauchery. I did the hot lemon water, my green juice, but then I followed it with coffee and scrambled eggs. I figure at least I’m getting the extra nutrients. I ran into my neighbor yesterday, she has a two month old baby. She looks amazing, totally put together, very chic athletic outfit for a neighborhood walk. She tells me how much she’s enjoying her mom groups. I tell her how much I haven’t enjoyed mom groups, that it’s been difficult for me to find other cool moms. Then I look in the mirror when I get back from my walk, I look pretty rough. I always feel like this when I run across one of those “Always put together people.” Then I find myself thinking we could never really relate, I’m not put together enough. Then I realize I’m insecure about this and always have been. I don’t know why, maybe I got it from my mom. She felt the same way about herself. Paint on the clothes, dog hair, just undone.

    10:06, what to do? Jacks having a great time running free listening to me type and read and edit my article. 10:09, do I take him to play center without taking his morning nap or do I cancel? How do I surrender?  10:15, I have fifteen minutes to figure it out.

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  • Finding the Subtleties in the Chaos

    April 10th, 2015

    It’s Quiet first, then I hear babbling. Make bottles. Now they’re quiet again. I’m searching for subtleties in the chaos that takes over my every day. The moment I pick Jack up after he’s been running, stomping, climbing. I hold him, he’s breathing hard, half fighting to get free, half wanting my firm hold and calming touch. I look into his eyes, at his face, skin, mouth, open slightly, teeth showing, I look into those big blue eyes wondering “who are you baby?”  How can we take it down a notch, how can we really get to know each other? His breathing slows, he’s relaxed in my arms now. He’s my little baby, he’s my son. Fiona stays close to me. She climbs up my legs and grabs hold of my shoulder. I’m talking to Robin on the deck, we’re sitting on the babies climbing apparatus, previously known as deck furniture. Fiona keeps climbing higher and holding me tighter, then going out on her own. She comes back again and again, Jack gets into this pattern too. They come close, hug me. Climb on me, then move away. They start to enter into Robin’s space. They look at her shoes, her feet, polish on her nails. They trust her, let her pick them up, hug them and hold them. They feel the love that Robin brings, I think they know how happy I am to have her visiting us. I told Fiona last night she can have the Purple Heart necklace Robin made me when she gets old enough. She loves it so much, she can’t stop pointing to it and smiling saying “E”. Before I fall asleep I feel my face is roughened by looking and being looked at. My head feels heavy. Is it the rapid pace of the babies learning and observations that’s made me feel this fatigue? I am right there with them, looking at my face from inside myself, looking at their faces, looking at the faces of the people we meet. That’s why it’s so nice to get away into nature. Where we look at the trees, the birds, the ocean. The Ocean. I can’t imagine what Fiona’s going through during this phase of rapid development. Listening to all the sounds through an electronic device. Going to sleep without her hearing aids, waking up without the sounds.

    Now they are definitely ready to come get their milk! “Here I come babies!” I say. (They can’t hear me yet) But as I climb down the stairs closer to their room I keep saying, “Good morning babies” I can hear excitement from their cribs as I walk through the door. I pick each baby up and hug them tight and tell them how I love them.  Bottles fed, let them feed “Billy the Kid” some cheese pieces, and set up an inspiring play area. Ready for our day. The End

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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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  • Random Tips for twin parents

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