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Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes

  • Two one year olds walking and my birthday

    March 20th, 2015

    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.)

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  • Wednesday Studio and Happy Birthday to Me

    March 19th, 2015

    I’m not depressed, just melancholy. About all the time that has passed, all my life that I’ve already lived. How little time is left, how little time is always left at the end of every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year. The disappearance of time. In my studio today thinking about disappearance, things, people, life, fading away. Two hours, that’s about the amount of time I have to paint. I’m rushing around, I almost knock over a glass of water. “You’re getting crazy now, you need to calm down.” I say to myself. Green gold is a nice color, it was one of my mom’s favorites. I start painting, first a stain with watercolor, green gold. Some stained with grey. I think I like them, but I don’t know, I never can tell. Especially when I’m in these moods. My mind is cloudy, I keep hitting my toes and head on things. I hate when I have one of those ambiguous days in the studio. I get obsessed, I can’t think of anything else but the problems I’ve created, the search for the answers. But today is another day. A non-studio day. Time for a second cup of coffee. Today is my birthday, my 44th. Stumped. When my mom turned 44 she never would have thought she only had 15 years left to live. I’m being greedy. I want more time. I don’t want to die. Babies really show you how fast time moves. How quickly they grow. How can it be a year since my last birthday? Fiona and Jack were so small and sweet, only one month old. Last night Fiona stood in front of Jack and I. We were on the floor, I was putting on Jacks diaper. Fiona pulled the tab and opened one side of her diaper. Jack started cracking up and so did Fiona. I hope they don’t start taking off their diapers already and pooping and peeing everywhere. But that’s how fast they grow. We’ll have fun today, we have a great adventure planned and Fiona gets her new hearing aids today. She’s been without them for a week. That will be exciting. Happy Birthday to me.

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  • Infertility

    March 18th, 2015

    Something has shifted; it’s all coming back to me now. Memories of the past flash in my mind, as I sit in the two week waiting period to find out if my surrogate Malissa is pregnant with one or both of the embryos that were transferred into her uterus last Friday. I am anxious, nervous, fearful, and hopeful of the results. It’s been a long journey to this place, five years of my body being poked and prodded, and three surrogates just to create a family of our own. That was written last July. I’m sitting at my kitchen table drinking my coffee while Jack and Fiona play with toys in the living room. Now I am raising children. I am a mother. I look back through the writing I did about my struggles with infertility. I was going to post one today. But I wasn’t ready, the works not ready. I need to revisit the experience. The years of trying, the fear, “Is my husband going to leave me because I can’t have a baby.” After every failed cycle, after the miscarriage, having to make the decision to try again or give up. Excruciating, mind bending, insomnia producing contemplations. Joining a meditation class at Kaiser and starting to see a therapist, then finding myself sitting on my meditation cushion wondering who I was. Actually scared, my mind unsure of anything. A facial twitch that turned me into a cyberchondriac, finding out all the diseases I could possibly have. Writing to my doctors every day to tell them my symptoms. I saw a neurologist and had an MRI. I just took a break from writing to change Fiona’s poopy diaper and play “I’m gonna get you” with Jack. I tiptoe over the cheerios, toast, and banana on the floor to get back to my computer. How life has changed. Those years of trying were very isolating. Some of the women in my life didn’t understand because they got pregnant easily, they already had children.  Some of my friends said I shouldn’t keep trying, I shouldn’t have kids at all. I was embarrassed. I was ashamed and rarely told anyone what I was going through. I wanted to reach out to other women going through the same thing but couldn’t find them. I want to reach out to them now and offer some kind of comfort. But that’s not helpful, it’s not helpful to tell someone “Everything’s going to be O.K.” or “It will all work out for the best.” Or the worst, “It’s in God’s hands.” I can only tell my story. It wasn’t easy and I barely made it through the whole experience. It did turn out fine, I have two beautiful babies now, but that’s another thing someone going through infertility doesn’t want to hear about.

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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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