I find myself lying on the carpet, listening to the clicking of buttons tossing in the dryer. I hear the hum of the dishwasher, chirping of the blue jays outside and an occasional roar of an airplane. The baby monitor is quiet, Jack and Fiona are taking their afternoon nap. I want to lavish here on the floor, but I also want to paint today. Ramona arrived feeling very bad, I sent her home with a bottle of Nyquil and told her “Go rest! Straight to bed.” Ramona never takes a sick day. She is one of the strongest people I know. When I give a recommendation for her I say, “Ramona is like a ray of sunshine, she is a baby whisperer, when she arrives you’ll be able to fully relax, sleep, or do whatever you need to do, you’ll know your babies are in good hands.” With no babysitter on a babysitter day I have to figure out how to fit it all in. I had a productive morning, kitchen is clean. I already took Billy and the babies for a hike. “Mam excuse me do you have a dog with you?” asks a very clean cut, shaven, park ranger as I push the B.O.B. towards him. “I thought she could be off leash?” I say. “Get your dog and I’ll take your information and explain.” He says. My legs go weak, I feel like I’m in big trouble. “I thought dogs were allowed off the leash after that sign?” I say as I put on Billy’s leash. “Yes, the sign is in a bad location. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, I did not see you take your dog off the leash.” He says. I only took her off the leash a few feet early. I always keep her on the leash on that trail, not because I want to obey laws, but because it runs behind houses and Billy has a taste for cats. Today I took her off early because I’m pushing the B.O.B. over a rocky uneven trail, and Billy is stopping and sniffing everything pulling me backwards. During the hike I decided to let the babies have a taste of the trail. I’m teaching them to hike, the unfamiliar ground, dirt, mud, rocks, ups and downs. Jack runs along in his little baby shoes. Fiona stays close to the stroller. She’s not quite as confident as Jack on the trail. There’s poison oak to watch out for, hills to accidently roll down. If I lose track of Jack here the coyotes will take him. I have so much to teach them. I decide to go to my studio and try to paint for however long that monitor stays quiet. No pressure just to be creative for creativities sake. I examine the work from the previous day. I see something interesting, the orange paper with the trees on it looks like gauze when it’s back side up. I want to play with that. I prepare some paper. I rip up the orange paper by hand and adhere it with soft gel gloss. I hear Fiona cry a little. I get scared, I’m inspired, I want to work. She’s quiet again. I keep working, I draw with a pen, “Doodle.” I read that doodling is great for relaxation and helping with anxiety and depression. I’m having fun, the baby monitor is quiet. I add yellow and white paint. Just for fun. I get three pieces I like. It’s time to go back upstairs and get ready for the babies to wake up. I make fish sticks and mac and cheese. I’m happy to see Jack and Fiona. We play, eat, and get ready for bed. They go to sleep easily tonight. We had a good day. I go upstairs, Alan has brought me fresh spring rolls from Royal Thai. I just have to feed Billy and I can relax. It’s Walking Dead night. Yea!
Tag: dogs
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6:30 A.M., push down the black plastic ball on the French press, pour, honey, cream, taste, it’s perfect. House is dark, babies still sleeping. Time to write. “What did Jack do that was so cute last night?” Alan asks me. He heard me on the monitor while the babies and I were doing our night time routine. Jack put his hat on, a straw hat that Maureen picked out, it reminded her of Mikey Hynes. Mikey always wore a hat. Alan said he would sit in the last row at church so when he took off his hat no one would be sitting behind him to see his bald head, he was in good company too, the row was filled with these men. Mikey would have loved Jack, he would say something like, “He’s a good strong lad.” At night in the nursery when the babies are side by side in their diapers I can really see the width of Jacks back compared to Fiona. His leg muscles are strong, he would be able to work hard on the farm back in Ireland. Sometimes the thought runs through my head, what if he’s giant? What if he develops a love for football and gets used and destroyed way before his time. Right now he’s cuddly, sweet, his cheek always a little damp and cold because of teething. He giggles when I say, “I’m gonna get you.” He’s so fucken cute. The schedules are off by an hour this week, so when I got back the other night from putting Zappa down I was secretly hoping the babies were still awake. I heard them talking in their cribs, I went into the nursery and picked each baby up. I took off their sleep sacks. I needed cuddles from Jack and Fiona. We had missed our routine that night because I wasn’t home at bedtime, Ramona put them down for me. They made me feel better, all their love. Yesterday we mourned Zappa together. We started off going to breakfast. It was our first time. I put Fiona in the front carrier and held Jack, we walked in the door of Le Croissant. I ask if they have high chairs and my waiter sets me up in the way back corner, which is perfect. Jack and Fiona are having a blast, looking at the menu, the ceiling fans, people in the mirrors. I order cinnamon French toast, a jack and avocado omelet, chicken apple sausage, and a cup of milk. For a greasy little diner the food is awesome and a huge hit with the babies. Jack keeps watching one of the waitresses, she comes over a couple times and says, “He’s flirting with me.” One time she asks me how old they are, I tell her one. She then says, “Doesn’t the boy go vroom vroom vroom with trucks already and the girl doesn’t? It’s genetic, the girls don’t do it but the boys do.” I tell her I haven’t noticed that yet and she tells me, “You watch.” We then took Billy on a walk. I let the babies out of their stroller for a while to investigate. Billy was really good, she wasn’t agitated by them at all. But the entire time I was saying, “Jack don’t put that in your mouth. Fiona NO take that out of your mouth.” Little pebbles and wood chips. “Do you want me to make you some toast?” I ask the babies. They are awake now, making funny noises in their high chairs, eating cheerios, pointing to things and squawking. I take out the cinnamon raisin toast too early. It’s kind of soggy but they seem to be enjoying it. I love them so much.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 