In the corner of my left eye I see Blue Bear in the laundry hamper. Not the original old stinky Blue, but the new soft clean blue I bought as a backup. I wanted to reach down, pick him up, and cuddle him while I laid down in my bed. I wanted a Blue Bear, something to comfort me like the babies have. It’s been a rough week. On Wednesday I came down with sickness number one. A horrible, painful, gastrointestinal thing that left me with a swollen colon. I dealt with it, I mean there was a moment I thought my organs would burst and I was dying and that I lay crying wondering how I was going to take care of Jack and Fiona. I also thought for a minute that I was imagining the whole thing. Maybe it was all in my head? Maybe I was under more stress than I thought and I was going crazy again. But I went to the doctor and he said he’s seen many patients with this same bug. He was pleased with my health, was that is, because when he sees my blood test results today he ain’t gonna be too happy with me anymore. I had my blood drawn Saturday morning, the usual tests, CBC, Glucose, and Cholesterol. I thought I had been doing good but my cholesterol is the highest it’s ever been in my life. This used to really scare me because of my family history of heart attacks, this time I’m not going to let it get in my head. I guess I’ll just eat vegetables only, forever. After my blood was drawn we went to the mall. The babies had runny noses, the mall was still closed and was deserted. The sound of the carousel echoed through the place giving it an eerie walking dead feel. I started to realize the babies’ noses were running really bad and that we had probably infected the whole place, how long does the cold virus last on public surfaces? All of the sudden I started sneezing and sneezing and sneezing. I thought it was allergies. We got home and it became clear, Jack, Fiona, and I all had a nasty cold. I needed my Blue Bear. If someone were to ask me “what’s the most challenging part of raising twins?” it would be taking care of Jack and Fiona when all three of us are sick. I laid on my bed and cried Saturday afternoon after I put the babies in their cribs, I longed for someone to swoop in and take care of all of us. To make us tea with lemon and honey and feed us chicken soup. Someone to wipe the boogers off Jack and Fiona’s faces for me, the boogers that made their way into their mouths and onto their blue bear and tiger. A disgusting sight for sure. But I knew in two hours or less I would be the one who needed to get up and take care of all three of us. Babies need their parents even more when they are sick. Jack said “mommy” a million times this weekend and held onto me tight. Fiona coughed until her eyes were watering, it was so sad. But again we made it through. My body got up and took care of the babies, took care of myself, and my Dog. I couldn’t make dinner last night for my husband though, I told him he was on his own and he made himself shrimp! I thought that was pretty cool.
Tag: motherhood
-
I’m not worried the babies will wake up any minute or need me for any reason right now. I won’t need to make them anything to eat, tell them to “get down off that” or “don’t put that in your mouth” and I don’t need to check for poopy diapers. I don’t need to talk to anyone or tell anyone what to do. I can eat my yogurt and granola, drink my coffee, and write alone in my house for the first time since the babies were born. Jack and Fiona turn eighteen months this week so I signed them up for “camp” at our gym. When I dropped them off it felt weird leaving them somewhere, driving off in my car towards home without them. Fiona let out a small cry when I turned to leave, so I handed her Tiger and gave Jack Blue Blue. Then they both ran off and started interacting with another little girl the same age as them. It was cute. I felt emotional as I got onto the freeway but I also felt good, I am glad they get to do this, hang out with other kids, and develop a sense of self outside my world and my influence on them. I think it’s super important.
It’s quiet. I have twenty five minutes left of this quiet aloneness. This is good, I need this. I used to spend so much time alone and working in my studio. I miss it. Eighteen months isn’t really that long, it went by really fast. But I can feel the toll it’s had on me, the total exhaustion from taking care of everyone for so many days in a row without a real break. It’s hard. I guess I need to say how much I’ve loved every minute of it, how happy I am, and how wonderful my life is, because if I don’t add things like that some people get the wrong idea. My honesty comes with consequences, people start to worry, they might think I don’t like being a mom, or that I’m really stressed out. I’m not and I love being a mom, Jack and Fiona are amazing and fun and I love them with everything I have.
My free time is almost up, five minutes then I go pick up the babies. My mind scrambles at the thought, the sweet part is when they run towards me, happy to see me. The hard part is getting them in the stroller, in the car, out of the car, and upstairs for lunch. Worrying the whole way home they will fall asleep! So I take a deep breath, in through my nose, out through my mouth. I’ll do this on the way to get them and on the way home.
-
Yesterday was the longest amount of time I’ve been away from the babies since they’ve been born. I left my house at 11Am and returned home at 7PM. As I drove east a smoky haze covered the sky falling down and touching the horizon line. The pollution layered my already dissatisfied mood with a touch of depression. I had been looking forward to doing the Rhythm and Presence workshop for months. The first time I signed up I wasn’t able to go because the babies were still babies and that got in my way. This time nothing was going to stop me, my own mind tried. It told me, after my friend said he wasn’t coming along because he was sick, “You’re too tired too, you should go hide, watch a movie, you shouldn’t be around people.” I told my mind to “SHUT UP!” and I got in my car and started to drive in the direction of the workshop. Insecurities crept in along the way, I historically have problems working in front of other people. But the way this workshop was set up overcame that obstacle with “ice breaker” exercises that really got me feeling relaxed and comfortable. I worked like a crazy person, painting, collaging, working with Carl and Heather, learning as much as I could from them. I got to work for around five glorious hours straight. It was fantastic, and depressing at the same time. I finally felt like myself again, I was working, I was in an amazing Art Center, surrounded by wonderful artists. On my way down I started to think I needed anti-depressants again because I’ve been feeling myself sinking deeper into my anti-social self. But once I arrived at the workshop I was fine. I was myself again, all the discontent of the weeks prior slipped out of my system. The paper, paint, chalk and charcoal in my hands expressing ideas to me. The glues bonding pieces, turning one thing into another without a plan, just a direction to go in and a surprise waiting to reveal itself. I needed that, to work with other artists, to remind myself there is a place I belong.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 