Saturday morning. Fog came in last night. The cool air feels nice. Jack and Fiona resemble children more than babies. They’ve taught me how sweet strawberries are. My studio time is short, I don’t waste moments. It suits me. The indigo watercolor, the re-purposed prints, the collage. I can feel it now. Want to paint. Need to take Billy for a walk while the babies are napping. 8:21 A.M. Mini Chunks. That’s what I’ll call it. “Jenny Hynes guide to getting it all in” The Mini Chunk System. Yesterday I forgot to leave downtime until 7:30PM. I had to clean the house for our visitors, Linda and Tracy from Early Start. I kept thinking I was almost done. Looking at the clock, 11:00, wash dishes. 11:20, wash pots, pans, bottles. 11:37, and I still have to mop the floor. No Coffee Break before Fiona’s evaluation. Felt like a real Domesticated Animal. I peel off my apron, damp and dirty from housework. 12:00 PM, babies’ dressed, clean diapers, house clean, wearing a dress, lipstick, hair pins, but no bra. Couldn’t wear a bra, too hot. Looks slutty, hippyish, I don’t know. Wouldn’t go out in public. Babies and I having a great time while the nannies away. Even though Ramona only comes two days a week it’s a big difference than no days a week. It’s nice to have my house back. It stays cleaner, (which probably means I spend too much time doing) but it feels good, the babies hardly cry at all, only whining, especially Fiona. That’s because they can’t say what they feel, want, or need. That’s my project. I need to really focus on learning sign language and teaching Fiona words and explaining how she’s feeling. The babies seem to be taking a nap now. Time for Billy.
Tag: babies
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My hands are still shaky, my heart palpitating. In a hurried state. Panic and stress. Alan stressed too. Fiona screaming, we’re driving. I turn the radio on loud to hide some of the high pitched screams. Babies did not take their morning nap. They are tired, I put them in their cribs at 8am. Never fall asleep. I didn’t get a break all morning. The kitchen and everything is a mess, but that’s not the issue. We’ve been planning on going to TOT Swim for weeks. Today we are going. Fiona’s very upset. I hit her head in the elevator on the way to the pool on accident and she’s wailing. Our nerves are shot and in the pool, Fiona keeps screaming. Alan takes her out. I stay in with Jack, he’s doing so well. Alan wants me to get out too so we can leave. There’s only ten minutes left, I stay in. It’s such a stressful situation. I’m on the verge of tears. I try taking deep breaths in the car on our way home. My cheek is twitching and I still feel a sense of panic. Why couldn’t I remain calm? It was supposed to be fun. It wasn’t.
Why do I feel things in such a physical way? My stomach starts aching, I start to feel physically sick after a stressful emotional situation. I have a hard time with hours of stress, especially when my husband is stressed too. My mindfulness tools fail to show up, it was like I was past the state of self-help. I was able to slowly recover by having some distance from the babies while they took their nap, deep cleaning the kitchen, and talking to my husband about why I was upset, crying a little bit. He finally understands why I can’t take the babies out if they haven’t had their naps. He’s been telling me “Jacks playing me” all these months. Now he finally see’s what happens when a baby without a nap breaks down in public and he was very uncomfortable.
Sometimes I look through my old journals and find things I wrote like:
(From January, 24th, 2013)
-Meditate, Chill, Relax, Surrender
-Reject self-defeating reactions to life’s challenges.
-Don’t mistake MOOD for REALITY
-Reduce stressful conditions
– Learn to re-parent yourself by finding mature, emotionally healthy people who can love, who are accepting, and who do not pass judgement.
(*I probably copied these things from an internet site, book or handout from my meditation class, but do not know the source. I think they are pretty generic though!)
Then I write: I’m Isolated, Point Blank.
I feel that way often. My mom filled a huge space in my life, we could talk about everything, Art, Fashion, Dogs, Annoying people, etc. Since she died there has been a void. Maybe that’s why I’ve started writing my blog. I’ve tried to connect to people, other moms, artists, but I haven’t found my “Tribe” as people like to say. Part of it is the difficulty in making plans with people. Maybe it’s our area, everyone is so busy, the traffic can be horrific, and with twins it’s REALLY difficult to know if I’ll be able to make it anywhere at all. They may be too tired and I’ve explained that scenario.
After yesterday I really wanted to write that everyday can’t be peaceful. It’s impossible. Sometimes nothing will work and things are just going to suck. I felt I needed to add that, I’ve been spending a lot of time writing about how to cope with raising twins. I found it’s a lot easier when I take everything off the calendar and just let the days unfold. But sometimes I want to do something, take the babies somewhere or spend a day as a family. This is the place it gets tricky.
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Alan walks out the door first, I look at Jack, his Blue Bear in his mouth, little chubby cheeks, eyes looking straight into mine. He’s in the arms of a sweet girl at Play Center. As I wave bye, I make a face, my lower teeth show, chin scrunches, a look of worry, nervousness, and fear. The moment I make the face, Blue Bear falls out of his mouth, face gets red and he starts balling. I’m laying on my mat, doing breath work, I start laughing. I can’t get the scene out of my head, why didn’t I just make a normal face? I finally settle. This is the best, my husband’s doing Yoga with me on a Saturday morning, babies are (hopefully) fine downstairs. A dream come true. After, we get cocktails, eggs, mac and cheese, chicken fingers, and fries. Eating too much. I think I need to just order kids food from now on. Cocktails and chicken fingers please!
Time to change a poopy diaper. I write taking frequent breaks to read books, get cuddles, and check diapers. I know Fiona needs a change, but I just changed her. My legs are sore, and I’m lazy. She’s also wearing her hearing aids without a hat, one of her hearing aids is already out. Both babies are really tired. I think they are going to take a nap and its only 8:00A.M. Lucky me. On April 22nd, 2013 as I sat in the same location writing, I could never imagine the scene of toys, dirty dishes, laundry, poopy diapers that I sit in a sea of now, neither could my friends. “Don’t you think the universe is trying to tell you something?” said my oldest and dearest friend. “No, I don’t believe in that.” I say. “Don’t you? In this case especially? Just a little bit?” She is worried about me, that my life has been taken over by my journey to have a baby. Here I am with two. I didn’t miss out on anything along the way. I learned so much.
When we took Billy for her walk yesterday, I wanted it to be peaceful and meditative. It’s hard to do that because we live in a very hilly place. I decided to walk slow and relaxed, keep from bending at the waist, go as slow as I have to so I stay in a relaxed state. The trees were blowing in the wind, I stop and let Jack hear them. Fiona won’t keep her hearing aids on, so she can’t hear the leaves rustle. It’s a beautiful afternoon. My technique works, even on the last monster hill I kept it slow and easy. I want to bring this into my every day. No more hurrying. There’s nowhere to hurry to, I’m already here.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 