I love my body. 43 years old, the true collector of memory. Everything I’ve been through stored inside, marks on the outside. Scars, brown spots, wrinkles, varicose veins, dry heals, hair, a tattoo, looser skin than a decade ago. On the inside old aches meet new aches. Time to get a mammogram. I feel so exposed. My ovaries are swollen and painful, my uterus is complicated. I am glad both babies already had their morning poop so I can sit here longer. I’m tired, maybe the 2 shots of tequila yesterday wore me out. The coffee doesn’t seem to be helping me, it’s just leaving a gross taste on my tongue because I used too much honey. But I’m still drinking it. My mind is foggy this morning just like the sky outside. The babies are having fun playing together. I feel lucky. I need to stretch my body today. Drink lots of water, take a bath and go for a walk. My bodies tired. My back is sore, I was kneeling this morning with Jack, I went to stand up but he was so heavy I fell to the side. It’s like doing dead lifts everyday all day long. My body is getting so strong. I feel the babies are growing restless, they will be wanting my attention soon. I will need to make breakfast and clean the kitchen. I wish this coffee would give me some energy. I used to think If I was super healthy, ate raw foods, no caffeine, kept my body super pure I would feel so much better. I always felt like I needed to change. Now I feel that way of thinking just puts too much un-needed pressure on myself.
Tag: health
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Shaven legs, been using lotion. Drinking lots of water. Eating well, tummy feeling full, gorged on cake and watermelon. Drinking tequila, can’t get drunk. Only drank one, nursing second one now. Felt free, listening to Sweet Home Alabama, put on a sexy dress, sweeping floor, dancing, saying, “Hi jack! Hi Fiona.” Smile, giggle me, them. This is my dream, to be carefree and fun loving. Always have been, except when I’m down. Take last sip of Tequila. Make a second? Feeling good now, babies asleep, Alan asleep on the couch. I hear a little bird chirping, the hum of the freeway, a saw, someone doing DYI. Kids at the park saying sentences, I can’t make out what they are saying. A car door here a dog barking there. My stomach hurts a little. I’m too conscientious to get drunk or eat anything else. When the babies wake up I will get a closer look at the neighborhood. Billy needs a walk, I’ll wear a hat and sunglasses. I’ll make another margarita. Drink more water. 1/2 a shot of tequila, 1/2 a shot of lime juice and ice in a little tiny goblet. Yum, the new margarita is good. The trash is full. The flowers in the interesting crystal vase with a geometric design of cuts, making triangle ridges that we got as a wedding present that I didn’t like at first but now has grown on me are dead. The water is murky. If I smelt it I know what it would smell like, pond water. There are a few flowers that have survived. Yellow with long tiny petals and two white and purple lilies. The painting of my mom’s dad, he wore a check suit and was a used car salesman, not in the painting. It’s just a portrait, but in the old black and white photographs I’ve studied, he wore check suits. The painting is in a dark corner of the room. The dominant sounds are the birds and freeway, things Fiona couldn’t hear without her hearing aids. Now I am feeling tired. I don’t know about a walk, I’m leaning towards a bath. Or paint! I could totally go paint right now. I’ll bring the baby monitor and my margarita. I’ll just paint super-fast. Just for fun. Then If I have time before any one wakes up I’ll take a hot bath. If they wake up before I’m done painting I’ll take the babies and Billy for a buzzed Sunday afternoon walk on time change day. Good Bye.
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First Jack then Fiona. I am wondering if the smell of the alcohol reminds them of the last time. There’s a delay after the first shot is given, then the face turns beet red, the mouth opens wide, the eyes shut, the cries and screams start. I pick up each baby after their turn to get shots. I hold them close and tell them everything’s O.K. cuddles and tickles, they are fine. AAAAAAHHHH, I take a deep breath of relief, one year vaccinations done. After the two week incubation period I can go out with Jack and Fiona, not worrying about the measles. It’s the first time I’ve brought Jack and Fiona to the doctor by myself. The morning goes smoothly and we’re in the car by 9:40am. We’re calm and we don’t need to rush. The waiting room is filled with sick children wearing face masks. I think to myself we’ve already had so many flu’s and cold’s I’m not going to worry about this today. In the exam room Fiona and Jack point to everything, “Eh” they point to the otoscope “Eh” they point to the door and the light on the ceiling. They point to the drawers with the masks, tongue depressors and alcohol swabs hidden inside. It’s Fiona’s turn for her examination, I take off her clothes, put her on the scale, 20lbs, a lot lighter than Jacks 25. She’s measured, grew 3 inches. Jack was examined last week, while Fiona was home sick. The nurse comes in with the vaccinations. She remembers us from our visit six months ago. I wish I remembered her name, she’s really sweet and gentle and wears a pin that says I speak Baby.
We leave the doctors and I decide to go to the mall for a chai and to let the babies check out the toddler play area. At Peets I see a customer there, an older man who I saw four months earlier. I was sitting outside with Joanne, Jack and Fiona were sleeping in the stroller. This man asked me if the babies call me “Grams.” I said “no, I’m their mother.” He said he was sorry for putting his foot in his mouth. He has a daughter who is pregnant with her second. I am older than her but I’m not sure by how much. While I was trying to have kids as the years went by I would say not after I’m 35, not after 36, not after 40. Jack and Fiona were born when I was 42. I was so worried what other people would think, or more that I would die early like my Mom and her parents and leave the babies too soon. Now I see none of these worries even matter, although as I crouched down and played with my one year old twins in the dingy, dirty carpet, mall play area I felt uncomfortable with the old man and his daughter looking at me. I felt like they were wondering how old I was. Jack went over to visit them and try to get a piece of their Peets treat. The old man asked me when I knew I was having twins. I couldn’t think of the answer, Jack was trying to run out of the play area into the mall. I decided it’s time to leave.
Jack, Fiona, and I go to chipotle and have the best time sharing a quesadilla I feed to them in tiny little pieces. After we buy a frozen yogurt and take our yogurt onto the large fake grass area. I take the babies out of their stroller and have to run and catch them every 2 minutes, they keep running onto the concrete area. I worry they will fall and crack their heads and skin their little knees. I try to entice them with the frozen yogurt. I dip my spoon into the chocolate vanilla swirl yogurt, it’s so good. I give Jack and Fiona tastes, it comes right back out of their mouths, they don’t have the same experience as me. Jack starts to like the raspberries with just a bit of frozen yogurt. We make our shirts all messy, I chase them around the lawn, and we laugh. I’m feeling good. Jack cries once when I start to run from him thinking he’ll chase me. I run back, grab him, spin him around and he looks delighted. I manage to keep the babies awake on the drive home, I’m listening to Sirius new wave, first the Clash then Yaz. We come into the house, play for a while, I give them showers and bottles, and dress them in clean clothes. Then put them down for their nap. Now I am enjoying my time to write.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 