The moment we get into the nursery we all relax. Just upstairs Jack and Fiona were crying, grabbing the spoon, covering themselves in pea soup. Me, getting more and more frustrated, looking at the mess to clean after I put the babies to bed. Downstairs I set the lighting, I turn on a nursery songs cd. I take off Fionas clothes covered in crusty reminders of today, then Jacks. I fill the tub. I take off my clothes too, after the bath we do skin to skin. Fiona blows onto my belly like Alan and I have been doing to them to make them laugh. The babies walk around the nursery in thier diapers, they mouth their teddies, look at books, show me pictures in “Whats on my head” and “The hungry Caterpillar.” I relax on the futon, I get to see moments when they sit side by side analyzing the same book or toy. Every few minutes they come over to me, climb over my legs, lay next to me. I try to give Jack a cuddle but he rejects, he wants to be free. Fiona gladly accepts a hug. They practice their walking and clapping skills until they get so tired they start focussing on their lovey’s. It’s time to put their pajamas on and feed them their bottles. I say goodnite and leave the nursery. I am glad most of my workday is done, except I still need to cook dinner and clean the kitchen. I feel satisfied with the job I did with the babies, and part of me misses them already.
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I decided to paint. I put on my apron and boots. I walk into my studio, lay out my paper, run back into the house to grab some tissue paper from the birthday party to use as collage material. I lay out my paper, I start to feel relaxed, happy. I can forget about the house full of crying and sickness for the time being. I feel creative and proud of myself for taking this step. Time is already up but I feel better about the rest of the day.
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How will I get through the rest of the day? I am not complaining, I am serious. I pick my baby girl up out of her crib at 7:00 am. She gives me a big smile. I hug her, she coughs, I think it’s just something stuck in her throat. She can’t be sick. She just had the flu a month ago. It’s throw up. I feed her her bottle, she can’t keep it down. I go down to get Jack. His PJ’s are peed. I bring him up naked to let him air out. I take off Fionas diaper too, I’m about to put new diapers and outfits on both babies. Fiona pees on the floor, Jack prances around with his naked body. Fiona starts throwing up again. There’s throw up on the kitchen floor, pieces of bread and cheerios. They have doctors appointments to get the measles shot at 10:45. I don’t bring Fiona. Ramona takes care of Fiona, while I bring Jack to the doctor. Since we’ve been home both babies are crying, Fionas throwing up, and Ramona is sick. I only have one and a half hours left until Ramona goes home. My lap top isn’t working so I have to write this on my IPhone. I’m not complaining. I’m feeling wiped out. I need to do something rejuvenating. Billy is limping, she keeps escaping at night. I don’t have time to work in the studio, unless I do some really quick paintings. Or exercise? What will make me feel like I can handle the rest of the day? Drugs. Just kidding!
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 