Fiona sat on the floor crying. She called me over to her and was scared Daddy was going to be so mad. We went to the toilet to find out how bad it was. The toilet was filled with white, soft, squishy toilet paper.
I went to the kitchen and got a plastic bag, I pulled out the soggy mess and flushed the toilet. Everything was fine.
Today is a dry, hot, breezy Saturday. It’s another extreme fire danger day. I’m sneaking writing this, letting the kids watch u-tube. I have dishes to do, laundry to do, shopping list to make, and I must play dolls with Fiona today.
I would rather have the day off today. Relax, work in my studio. I worked hard all week long. But I have homemaker (butler) duties still. That never goes away.
I want to start stitching these silk prints. But I don’t think I can today. Tomorrow, Sunday, I will go in my studio with Fiona. That is acceptable. Me asking for alone time in my studio on the weekend is unacceptable. But bringing my daughter in to work with me makes it ok.
“You be the butler since you do the cooking and the cleaning, I’ll be the Princess, Daddy will be the King, and Jack, you’ll be the Prince” says Fiona after I had set out pancakes, sausage, syrup, butter, and milk on the table for breakfast.
“Mom, you’re the best pancake maker ever” says Jack.
“Thanks guys!” I say.
Immediately I think about my obsession about getting my teaching credential and my masters in Special Education. I figured out today, whatI’ve already known, that I need to study for and take the CSET first. That will be my project once I’ve completed “20 Days in a Pandemic.”
I’ve got a blessing from so many people already, so many, I only have one important blessing left to receive.
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with butlers. There’s nothing wrong with motherhood, domesticity, cooking, cleaning, being Jenny Homemaker. I love it. I love my life and my family. But being a housewife was never my goal in life. My goal has always been to help people, make art, and write. That’s been my goal since I was young. I used to want to be a art therapist, then a nurse, then a special ed teacher. I have wanted to get my teaching credential for over twenty years!!!! I took the CBEST over 20 years ago!
My mom talked me out of becoming a teacher the first time. I was working at a department store. I was an assistant manager in the boys department, on my way to become a department manager. I was also working on my portfolio to apply to graduate school in painting. My mom thought the department store job was great. She saw me as s businesswoman and encouraged me to get my MBA instead of an MFA! Which was funny, I’ve never considered myself a business person!
So on it went, my long time working retail. Once I started dating my husband I kept making art and working on my portfolio. But I quit my job and started also trying to start a family. I did not know that process would take ten years.
When Jack and Fiona were young I started thinking about my teaching credential again. But my daughters needs, studying sign language religiously, being a parent and parent advocate has taken all my time.
The day got away from me It’s 7:41 pm and my daughter still wants me to play dolls with her. I am in my closet, I snuck downstairs to change into pajamas!
Before I came down my daughter was going number two. My husband was yelling down the hall to not put too much toilet paper in the toilet. They are coming down here now, Knocking on the door. I
I have so much I want to write about today. But I can’t.
Not easy to keep this up while homeschooling, but possible. The school Day is long. We were on Zoom and doing school work all day. I didn’t have time to eat or take a break. The house is a mess and I haven’t exercised yet.
I didn’t have time to play dolls with Fiona or play with her teddies and tea party or play a board game with the kids yet. I didn’t have time to play soccer or basketball with Jack. I ordered pizza for their lunch and don’t know what I’ll make for dinner. We still have homework to do tonight after I take this break.
Oh and I haven’t had time to do my ASL homework or study, but I did copy Fiona’s interpreter all day at school.
But this project is keeping me grounded. I feel more relaxed since starting. My inner demon is trying to stress me out by putting thoughts in my head about having something “good” at the end of this project to show in the gallery. But my kinder self is keeping me steady, focus on the process, the determination to actually do something in my studio every day.
Since the pandemic began and we’ve been shelter in place I have not worked in here much. I’ve suffered from depression and anxiety. Its been hard until now. Not that’s it easy now but I have an escape. More than I do when doing yoga or meditation. I’m connecting with my old self, my inner self, my non- wife- mother-teacher-cook-cleaner-parent advocate self.
I love the feeling of washing my hands with my old bar of studio soap. With dark cracks and lines. It makes me feel good to smell it. To touch it.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 