“Oh my gosh” I say, I’m putting the Turkey dinner in the microwave, I see something. On the glass rotating tray that looks like baby poop. How did baby poop get in the microwave? I pull the tray out. I realize its refried beans from the microwave burrito I scarfed for lunch. It’s a no nap day. I try, but Fiona won’t go to sleep and she wakes Jack up. No break for me. “Bock, Bock Bock Bock, we’re going to see baby chickens today!” I say as I take Jack and Fiona out of their play and packs, change their diapers and make them a quesadilla. (Yes all at the same time. I’m SUPER MOM! ) We get to China’s house. “Hi! Look babies its China.” The babies are very happy to see her, she lives on a flat lot with a gate so we’re able to set the babies free. China has two baby chickens. We keep reminding Jack and to Fiona be gentle, Jack wants to grab the chicken. I’m scared he’s going to hurt one. Fiona is a bit gentler. I’m feeling relaxed and happy hanging out with China, the babies feel the same way. They fall asleep on the way home, Fiona has a smile on her face. I park in the garage thinking they will take a long nap. I can get some studio time and eat lunch. No, they wake up soon after that thought. We take Billy for her walk, work on coloring, and continue the evening as we usually do, dinner, bath, bottle, cuddling, bed. It’s my favorite time of the day. It’s gentle and sweet, quiet with dim lit lights. The nursery is soft with rugs, a futon without the frame, stuffed animals, and books to read. I love holding the babies after their bath when they are nice and clean. I did have some time to paint in the morning. I’m inspired again by the old pictures, the mood, thinking of disappearance. My mom was an only child, the solitary image influences me. They are about being a girl, being a woman, femininity.
Tag: fatigue
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“I’m not picking that up again.” I say as Jack throws his bottle on the floor. MMMM Good cup of coffee. I haven’t put on Fiona’s hearing aids yet. O.K. On, done with their bottles they cried so hard in the five minutes it took to make them. Only drinking a tiny bit. Twins are exhausting. It does get harder. I received this e-mail about a piece I shared on the twin club FB page. My piece was censored and removed. The name of the person who sent the e-mail being withheld to respect privacy, name of club not being said out of respect. She writes: “We also try to keep things a little more positive and encouraging for our members since having twins can be overwhelming( especially new twins) and we would like people to feel supported and feel like they can do this. Because they can and it does get easier!” I agree, anyone can, but it does not get easier. It gets more overwhelming and I think this is information people having twins need to know. They need to be scared shitless. I wake up this morning, slept good, still sore and groggy. Babies awake. Walk into nursery, need to find new ways to pick up Jack and Fiona, hands hurt from picking up traditional way, back hurts from leaning over picking up awkward ways to protect thumb joints, hips hurt from carrying a 20 and 30 pound baby up and down stairs, putting into car seats, high chairs. Tired from the never ending mess, mess that if I let go one day becomes a thick layer of crumbs and goop on floor and counter. Dishes pile high, high, high, diapers sprawling out into the sky. Infants are easy, they weigh 5 lbs., they can’t get hurt, yeah they need a lot of feedings all night and day, loss of sleep is a bitch and when I first had the babies I was overwhelmed with all the bottles, formula, breast milk, baby clothes, and dirty diapers. That phase seems like a piece of cake compared to now. Maybe this is the no Zoloft talking, but it is annoying that someone said I needed to be more positive when I’m speaking the truth. I’m a realist, I knew having twins would be work. Everyone told me that same bullshit how it gets easier and having two is easier because they can play together. I’m gonna say it again, LIES! Sorry. Its way more work. Don’t have much time to write today. Therapy at 9:30, headed to my studio after. Need to clean kitchen, change diapers, and take a shower, oh and do laundry. Can’t forget the load in the washer again, needs to go into dryer. Don’t Forget.
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I need to get alone time with each of the babies, especially Fiona to work with her language skills. I’m feeling really tired, starting to stress. I question the office visits and whether I was right to stop taking the pills. Dr.Scott said, “You should take Prozac.” He is my old OBYGN, I felt red in the face and mad. I thought he was being sexist. Then a year later, my new female doctor says the same thing. I’ve only taken them for 6 months. I am against pills. But when I started taking them my body was feeling physical pain. Broken uterus. Thought I was broken. Thought I had uterine cancer. Ovarian cancer. Was going to die, my fibroids were going to burst out of my belly. All the tests came back fine. Started taking Zoloft. PMS disappeared. But I don’t want to take anti-depressants forever so I had to stop taking them cold turkey. I had to make the decision and stick with it. So today as I’m feeling tired and in pain I start to question all my decisions. Or Am I just tired? Or somewhere in between? I’ve told very few people. The only light on in the house is my computer screen. I’m alone in the dark typing. Alan is not home from work yet, the babies are asleep. They went crazy tonight when I took off all the cushions and made crash landing pads on the floor. I was right about that pollen, it’s thick. The crows are back, cawing. The monitor is quiet, I have the right one this time. It’s hard to imagine now that the past four days I had boundless energy. Today I crashed. When Ramona arrived I laid down on my bed trying to figure out what I could cancel today. I decide to take Billy for a walk. Bugs were all around us. I brushed her coat first. Thick chunks of fluffy, black, fur flew onto the ground that still has pieces of Zappas poop. It was the first time we were up at the dog house since Zappa died. I had to get the brush. We walked on the trail, no other people around, no raccoon incidents. I had to remind myself to stop, take a deep breath, count to ten, inhale-exhale, when the thoughts come in, I let them pass through gracefully and exit my mind. This works, my body relaxes, especially my neck and shoulders. Then when I get back I decided to take Fiona with me on my lunch date. She seemed so happy and was a perfect little angel.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 