Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes

Here I Am

January 14th, 2016
Here I am, I’m right here, awwww, a great sigh of relief. Second cup of coffee, not as good as the first, maybe I won’t drink it. House quiet, sky dark outside. A baby doll looking at me, a rocking horse, shadows of light fixtures on the ceiling. Another sigh, relaxed, calm. How can I bring this sense of peace into things once Jack and Fiona wake up? I’m going to try, take deep breaths and smile. “Turn that frown upside down” I’ll say this to the babies when they start having their meltdowns. Wouldn’t that be one of those annoying sayings your mother said to you that made you even madder?

Clown Face. Round Face. My face. Your Face.

I’ve been doing a lot of reading on the Dada movement. I realized I am Dada. I have always been interested in Kurt Schwitters and Jean Arp, two of my favorite artists. But as I am going back through my college textbooks, re-reading the section on Dada I realize I was either highly influenced by these artists or I was just born a Dada and had a natural affinity with them. They paved the way for me to do the art I do today. I’m really excited about the SFIAF Dada anniversay show, not only that I am included, but to experience the show and performances. I think the GAP collaborative fits great in the theme of DaDa, we are Dada.

The babies are Dada too. Infact Hugo Ball said this: ” My proposal to call it Dada is accepted….. Dada in Romanian means yes yes, in French a hobby horse, in German, a sign of absurd naivety.” He continued at a later date, ” childhood as a new world, and everything childlike, and fantastic, everything childlike and direct, everything childlike and symbolic, in opposition to the senilities of the world of grown ups….. The distrust of children, their shut-in quality, their escape from our recognition that they won’t be understood anyway. Childhood is not at all as obvious as is generally assumed.” (Painting and Sculpture in Europe 1880-1940 p. 367)

Jacks so Dada.

If I could put plastic up in my entire house and turn the whole place into part art studio/ part food lab/ part yoga studio we’d be in business! I wouldn’t have to say no anymore. We could just experiment and make things all day long. Then I would have one room that was just one giant bed, we could all just crash on the floor when we got tired.

But we return to hard surfaces and sanitation issues. Life in the real world, not the childrens. But I can try to keep the childlike freedom alive inside myself and cultivate it as something to cherish in Jack and Fiona.

Dada Lives!

Babies still quiet, but I better get their lunch and breakfast done before I go get them this time. Yesterday trying to do it all with babies I almost caught the house on fire. I burnt two sausages, pancakes, smoke filled the house, Fiona tantrumed, grabbing my legs and falling on the floor as I tried to cook breakfast. It was not good. Today will be different. Today will be good. Today will be peaceful.
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Head on a swivel

January 13th, 2016
It’s so peaceful right at this minute, almost 7:00am Wednesday morning. Chimes clang as the wind moves, the sky scattered with blue and dark grey clouds. My house is quiet, I hear Jack say “mama” once, but now it’s quiet again. I just want to sit here, to bask in this feeling, this quiet. To be able to complete a thought, write a complete sentence. To take my head off the swivel for a moment.

Here comes gusts of wind, like the gusts of energy Jack and Fiona bring. They are like a wave building and building, then crashing and dissipating. They frustrate me, but I’m not mad at them. They don’t care about time or danger. They barely understand it. I’m kind of like a referee, I’m present, observing, change the diapers, get them dressed, try to keep them in the same relative area, but not controlling.

Yesterday after Early Start, Jack, Fiona, and a few classmates were playing in the school yard while me and another mom talked about hearing loss and what options there were for preschools. A teacher from the classroom peered her head out the door and said,

“We’ve been watching that kid drink water from there ( a play table) it’s dirty water”

“Oh, OK thanks”

It was Jack, I don’t even pay attention to things like that. Eating dirt, drinking rain water, spilling water, even throwing food, These things are benign compared to all the dangers I need to protect them from, big falls onto hard surfaces, choking on small things, strangulation from climbing on the back of the toilet seat and playing with the blind cord, the one I thought wouldn’t be a problem.

Jacks awake now, starting to whine a bit, “mommy” time to say goodbye to this peace. Time to put my head on a swivel.

They are still babies, I’ll go down and the first thing I’ll see is their sweet little cheeks. I’ll take off their sleep saks, change their diapers, get them dressed. Then make breakfast, lunch, change diapers again, get them in the car, it takes atleast thirty minutes to get from the kitchen to the car, oh my gosh, am I getting anxiety?

Take a deep breath, I can do this! Stay Calm. I wonder how I could make the next two hours less crazy?

I get a studio day today and get to do yoga! An antidote.
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Here I Am

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Head on a swivel

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