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.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 