on being a mom

standing at the crossroads

Posted on October 26, 2014 by robynbird

I’m conflicted about how to move forward with this Thing 2 situation. YBW and I have been talking and we’ve come up with two scenarios. The first is we can make her come back here, force the legality of the custody agreement that says she lives here full time. The second is we tell her to come get her belongings.
I’m getting feedback from people who love me who are just trying to be supportive. These are some of the points of view I’m receiving:
“If it were me and this was (child’s name) I would hold her accountable for the decision she made.”
“I quite quickly come to the point that she is the child and you are the adult. Make her do what you and (her father) agreed to.”

Interestingly enough, I agree with these points of view. I believe she should be held accountable. It’s the actuality of executing them where I get lost. I can easily force her to be here, but I she is the variable. Or rather how she chooses to behave is the variable. I have no idea what she will be like upon a forced return. Will she make everyone’s life miserable? Will she choose to take out her dissatisfaction on the people who live in this house?
See, if she makes me miserable, I can handle that. If she makes the boys miserable it’s something completely different.

If we just have her come get her things, she goes back to the stagnant life she left. The life that made her feel she lost a year. The life in which everyone around her, her beloved friends, are moving forward and she is standing still. The fact that she’s gotten her GED only means she’s no longer truant. Her friends are in school all day, she’ll be at home waiting. This is exactly the same situation she lived the last year. How long before she’s back against the wall, desperate and miserable and in need of change?

I can’t answer any of these questions. I still don’t even know how to feel about the situation.
I am, however, in a place where I no longer have the desire to worry neither do I have a willingness to “fix” the situation for her.
I’m certainly all about “the principle” which means holding her accountable for her decision to make a home and life here.
But I’m unwilling to squander any more energy or tears for someone who isn’t ready to look or move forward.

Being a teenager is hard. There is no denying that. I was a teenager…actually I was a teenager who was moved against her will during her high school life. It was hard, my God was it hard. I was sad and angry but I persevered, I got to start again. I have realized it may have actually been what was best for me. So I think Thing 2 should find her gumption. She should rediscover her survival instinct, the one that saved her life twice before she was two months old. She should straighten her spine and march headlong into her fear.
She didn’t really try.

I was finally able to talk to my friends and mentor, she liked what I said about respect, that Thing 2 asked to be respected, but was not respectful. She told me the angst was all in the wrong place. That it needed to be placed on Thing 2 where it belonged. She should be sitting with it. Whether it changed her point of view or not…well it didn’t really matter. She asked if I told Thing 2 I thought she was a coward and a quitter. I don’t think I did.

I called to talk with Thing 2 yesterday, she was “busy” could she please call me back later? Has she? No. I will call her again today. I will say what I have to say about respect, I will tell her I think she’s a coward and a quitter. I will wish her well in her endeavors. With a heavy heart.
My heart is heavy because she’s cutting herself off at the knees. She’s pushing opportunity away with both hands.
My heart is heavy because she betrayed YBW, who has been kind to her from the moment she showed up.
My heart is heavy not because she hurt me, but because she hurts people I love, most specifically herself. I can’t protect her from herself.

I’m still standing at the crossroads. Arguing each side against the other and still not sure which way to turn. But I’m going to start moving one way or another, simply to be rid of the angst. Without a doubt it is in the wrong place. It’s not mine to carry. So I’ll drop it at the crossroads and walk away slowly.
Wish me Godspeed.

Categories: love, me, on being a mom | Tags: acceptance, accountability, anger, angry, angst, betrayal, cowardice, crossroads, daughters, fear, feelings, home, instinct, loss, love, motherhood, mothers and daughters, pain, parenting, positive change, quitting, relationships, sad, sadness, support, survival, teenagers, unconditional love | Leave a comment

she’s not coming back

Posted on October 25, 2014 by robynbird

How many tears can you cry for one particular person? I suspect tears are unlimited, but I have grown weary of shedding them over my child.

Thing 2 got on the train Sunday to SC to take her GED test, she was to get back on the train to come home today.
She called me Wednesday with news of passing all four required components. She has successfully completed her high school equivalent exam. I told her I was so glad, that I knew she could do it and then I said: I can’t wait to hug you!
And she said: That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.
Then she told me she’s not coming back. She wants to stay in SC with her friends.
Roundhouse kick to my soul.

At that moment all I could think was, YBW forked out tens of thousands of dollars to finish the basement, to build a loo and kickass closet and bedroom for her and she just “isn’t coming back”. She couldn’t think of that before we started the construction?
I am aware that she believes she’s been here struggling to belong and it’s too hard to keep trying and she is comfortable with her friends and that’s where she fits.
She told me lots of things about why she made this choice, asked for respect regarding her decision.

I love that girl differently than I’ve ever loved another human being in my entire life.
I want what’s best for her but my God, I’m so tired of trying to decide what that is.

I am desperate to talk to my friend and mentor, but she is in the middle of a family crisis and I cannot disturb her. She would help make sense of it, or at least she would take my ‘lemons’ and make her delicious lemonade and I could have a drink of it which would ease me enough to decide how to feel about it.
I can’t talk to Sundance, my pain is too fresh. I can’t go down the rabbit hole with her right now, I’m not sure I could climb back out. I can’t let my negative feelings take over, I have to tread carefully. Not for the sake of Thing 2, but for my own sake.

I feel hurt and angry. Thing 2 came here desperate to start over. She needed new clothes. She needed to have her hair done because of a terrible cut she’d given herself was growing back a hot freaking mess.
She needed help being a girl in the real world again.
I was more than happy to provide these things, as well as the help, love, and support she’d been lacking. She’s my baby. I will always do what I feel is best for her.

I’ve been going over and over the concept of respect.
She asked me to respect her decision. Asked me to respect her.
She has not considered that she asks for respect without giving any.
She doesn’t respect me. She doesn’t respect YBW. I’m not actually sure if she respects herself.
I’ve always considered respect a two way street. I never expected to be respected unless I was respectful. I taught my girls that. Perhaps I taught it poorly.
Thing 2 doesn’t respect me yet asks I respect her. I’m unsure how to proceed…in deed or thought. I have no idea what the practical value of that realization is.

I am disappointed. I am disappointed in her. Disappointed that she is a coward and a quitter, she has let her fear and loneliness control her actions.
I am disappointed that I couldn’t help her any more or better.

I am acutely aware that she is in control of her own actions, but still feel the sting of their reflection on me.

I want my baby to be healthy and content. I don’t believe she’s healthy but her friends make her feel content.
Perhaps it’s time for me to just let it go. Finally let her go. My concern with that is what to do when she needs me after I’ve let her go. I’m not sure how I can trust her again.
She betrayed me.
She betrayed the home we created for her.

I don’t think I choose to make her come back. I have the right to, legally, but I’m not sure I’m willing to put YBW and his Things through anymore negativity. If it was just me, I think I’d force the issue and make her live where she’s supposed to according to the letter of the law. I’d suffer the indignities and let her suffer, because she’d come out the other side better off. But I don’t want to put them through it. I’m not even sure I want to put her through it.

Thing G said: I’m sad she’s not going to live with us, but I understand wanting to be with her friends.
Teenagers are a curious breed.

She deserves better than the life she’s settling for. I have fought the hard fight to give her a better life and she’s turned her back on that. Because she’s lonely. Because she wants to be with her friends.
I can’t compete with that.

I can’t do anything but love her. But what does that mean? Does loving her mean I allow her to disrespect me? Does standing up for myself mean I don’t love her?
This is where the question of respect comes into play and I just don’t have any answers.

I’m tired of fighting the good fight. Tired of trying to do what’s best for the people I love when it doesn’t matter or mean anything to them.
How about somebody respecting me? Fighting the good fight for me?

I want that girl to have the best opportunities to create the best life. She can’t see that. Perhaps she doesn’t want to. Either way, I think it may be out of my hands.
I remember a discussion with my friend and mentor regarding always loving, always having an open heart and open arms. I do love and will always love my Thing 2. I’m afraid I won’t always have an open heart or open arms. I’m afraid the hurt will close them. I’m not sure I could bear that. For either of us.

Categories: loss, love, me, on being a mom | Tags: angry, daughters, disappointed, disappointment, disrespect, fear, feelings, friends, help, home, hurt, lost, love, motherhood, mothers and daughters, parenting, relationships, respect, respectful, sad, sadness, teenagers, unconditional love | Leave a comment

hearth-fires and holocausts

Posted on September 11, 2014 by robynbird

Thing 2 is here!
It’s been really positive and she’s enthusiastic about starting over. She decided she was ready to go back to proper brick and mortar high school. (This was a difficult choice for her as she has to be a junior again instead of being a senior. But she made it and she’s feeling strongly about it.)
We went back to school clothes shopping and got everything she needed from skivvies to sweaters. Shopping is interesting with Thing 2, I always learn something new about her and we have hilarious dressing room conversations!
She got a job today and a brand new do. Things are certainly going her way.
We go tomorrow to register her for classes. She’s picked out what she’s going to wear and has a notebook and pens in her new school bags.
It has been VERY positive. I overheard her tell someone she was so glad she was here and it was a good choice.

And then…
She just came downstairs with tears in her eyes and told me she was going to bed. I asked if she was OK and she just shook her head. I asked if I could help and she shook her head. She headed back up the steps and I asked if she needed to talk about it. She called back, “It won’t help.”

My initial inclination is to rush to her and work my ass off to make it better for her. But something strange is happening. It occurred to me that she needed to feel whatever it is she’s feeling. She needs to mourn the loss of her friends. She needs to shed that old layer in order to feel at home in her new environment.
She can cope with sadness. She can cope with feeling stressed about all the change. She can even cope, albeit not really well, with the anxiety of starting a new school.
It is extremely difficult for me to “sit this one out”, but I can’t fix this for her, I can only be available when she needs me.

She’s anxious about meeting people. “Cool people, not because they’re popular, but because they look like cool people I’d like to hang out with.”
She’s a bit of a hipster, that Thing 2 of mine. She wants to hang out with quirky people like her, but not end up in social Siberia. She doesn’t want to be popular, she wants to be real. She likes to play D & D. She likes eclectic music. She’s got a sassy personal fashion style. She wants to be engaged while functioning through her own special brand of awkward.

I want to go up and get all snuggly in her bed with her and feel as though I’m helping her feel better. I think that’s about me.
I trust her to sort it.
On the other hand, she’s been left to sort it for the last year all by herself.
So, I can offer love. I can listen. I can encourage.

When I think of my baby, I am reminded of Jimmy Stewart’s beautiful words in The Philadelphia Story: “You’re lit from within. You’ve got fires banked down in you, hearth-fires and holocausts. You’re made out of flesh and blood. That’s the blank, unholy surprise of it. You’re the golden girl. Full of life and warmth and delight.
I believe there is a part of her that realizes this about herself.
I aim to make sure of that.

Categories: love, on being a mom | Tags: adventure, anxiety, coping, daughters, eclectic, excited, family, feelings, fun, happy, hearth-fires and holocausts, hipster, home, lit from within, loss, love, motherhood, mothers, mothers and daughters, moving, new home, new job, new school, parenting, peace, quirky, relationships, sad, sadness, sassy, saying goodbye, snuggly, starting over, teenagers, unconditional love | Leave a comment

how exercising patience made it better

Posted on August 27, 2014 by robynbird

Thing 2 is coming home to roost in MY nest.
The joy this brings me in indescribable! Though, quite possibly not for the reasons you might think. Of course I want to be nearer my baby. BUT I believe she’ll be better off where there is more stability, a solid foundation of extended family to help support her. As well as two “brothers” who adore her and want her to actively be a part of their life, a YBW who has opened his arms and home to her and wants to do everything in his power to make her transition as smooth as possible. Mostly she’ll have her Mommy. And for that girl and this Mommy, that is paramount. She and I have a connect that transcends time and space and I believe we both miss it.
Thing 2 needs to feel safe.

Sundance told me she thinks Thing 2 is afraid she has to ask me to be her Mommy again and isn’t sure how to deal with that. My response was I never stopped being her Mommy. Perhaps she’ll realize that.

Thing 2 texted me about wanting to talk to me if I had time. When we talked she said: May I come live with you? I’m ready to be there with you. My child asked permission to be in my home…perhaps Sundance has a point.
Yes, yes! A thousand times yes!

YBW is a bit nervous about having a teenage girl in our home…he’s never really been around one. But he’s open and excited.

I talked with Thing 2 just yesterday and she’s so excited, she’s packed up most of her things and planning how to pack the rest and excited for the Mommy – Thing 2 road trip. She’s planning her room and what she wants to study when she goes back to school. She told me she had the worst year, that she completely effed it up. But she’s ready to get her life back. She texted me: Aspirations! Ah!!
The fire in her belly that was just sad little embers for the last eighteen months or so has once again become an inferno. She is ready to take her life back.

I couldn’t be more supportive of this if I’d invented it. I’m ready for Thing 2 to be the real Thing 2 because that’s what’s best for her. And she deserves to be the best Thing 2 she can be.

My friend and mentor has been very invested in every moment of this process. We talked last night on the phone and she asked about Thing 2, we talked about the goings on…how I’d been patient and respectful of where Thing 2 was. Then she said something that rang so true in me.
She said: You have been present with her though all her craziness.

Isn’t that what Mommies do?

Categories: love, me, on being a mom | Tags: aspirations, being present, blessings, coming home to roost, craziness, daughters, excitement, family, fire in your belly, fun, giggles, happy, home, joy, love, motherhood, mothers, mothers and daughters, parenting, patience, relationships, starting again, teenagers, Thing 2, unconditional love, YBW | 2 Comments

it can’t be a contest if I choose not to particpate

Posted on August 7, 2014 by robynbird

Thing 2 told her father she’s coming to live here in the fall…this was her decision and hers alone. I offered to help her tell him, she told me she wanted to do it herself, partly because it was her plan and she wanted to advocate for it and partly because she knew if I was involved he’d think I was coercing her. Thing 2 is very bright.

She told him on Tuesday, and this is the email he sent to me Wednesday. Following that is my response this morning.

I am thrilled FOR my daughter, not because she’ll be with me, but because she is ready to climb out of the hole he helped her dig. She’s climbing out all by herself. I couldn’t be more proud.

I don’t understand this “you win” nonsense…but then I have never played the game.

(email he sent early Wednesday morning)
I don’t know where to start and wish I didn’t have to. The idea of letting Thing 2 go to Va. just hurts me so, but it is probably the best thing for her. I just want her to be in the best place for her to grow. Living here has been a slow learning process for her and I feel to blame for that just because she has been home alone far more than she should have been. I have to work and keep the bills paid, food on the table and have entertainment expenses. If she had gone to CHS this past year it may have been a different result and I believe better.
You have gone to Va. and tried to make a new life for yourself but I have been left to try to make a life here where my life of taking care of my family has been twisted to become something different. I am not sure what I can do to help Thing 2 here now that I have committed to the expenses of this house but it would have been the best thing for Thing 2 if she had stayed in school at CHS. I could give up and make my expenses less but now she wants to create a new life in Virginia and that may be the best thing for her.
So now I have to go to work like always and soon I must find a way to make a new life for me.
You Win……..JM

(my resonse)
JM,
The fact that you said, “you win” makes me feel sad and kind of sick.
Nobody wins here. Thing 2 failed her junior year and wants to drop out of high school.
Everybody fails.

I agree she would have been better off at CHS…and that might have been able to happen second semester had she been able to get it together enough to pass first semester and transfer back. But she was not supported by the people who are supposed to support her. We are her parents. We must behave like parents and support our children.
We failed her.

You work the way you work, the way you’ve always worked. It’s not an excuse, it just is.
I understand you’re having to reconfigure the plan of your life. I understand that it’s hard. You’ve stood on your own two feet financially since you bought your first house…now you have to figure out how to stand on your own two feet emotionally, and it’s hard, and you don’t have much practice…so it’s going to feel icky, and I’m sad that it’s icky for you.

I had nothing to do with Thing 2’s decision. She called me and asked if she could come here, asked if she could be in my home. My babies will always have a home wherever I am, I can not, did not tell her no.
I did not feel that I’ve “won” anything. I don’t view those girls as a contest with you. I don’t consider them items with which to hurt and humiliate you. They are my babies. I will always work tirelessly to do what I believe is best for them.
Thing 2 believes she will find success by relocating her life, I support that, not because she’s coming here to where I am, but because I heard her voice, heard the long dormant fire in her belly crackling as she spoke to me. Heard her planning, and being excited to plan, her future.

The fact that you say I’ve won makes me think you’ve got it all wrong…I don’t believe it’s a contest.
I chose to do what I believed was best for me when you decided what was best for you was for me to be away from you. I saw your seriousness and chose to make arrangements to leave when you expressed your desire for change.
I never saw any of our life as a contest, that feels hurtful, as though knowing you and loving you is somehow negated. If it’s a contest then we’ve both lost.

I don’t like that you’re hurting. I have not liked hurting. I don’t understand what happened to the kindness between us, I guess it went away when it turned into some kind of contest.
I choose not to participate in any contest with you. I choose to just be. I choose to just care.

Thing 2 needs something, she’s looking for something, perhaps she’ll find it here, perhaps not. But she’s looking. I don’t want to discourage that.
R

So the high road pays off…my friend and mentor will love that!

Categories: divorce, me, on being a mom | Tags: blessings, contest, coparenting, daughters, divorce, excuses, failed, family, fathers and daughters, feelings, happiness, happy, high road, home, love, manipulation, motherhood, mothers and daughters, moving, not a game, parenting, passive aggressive, relationships, sadness, sharing, taking the high road, teenagers, unconditional love, winning and losing | 2 Comments

why am I always surprised?

Posted on April 21, 2014 by robynbird

I’m always surprised. You’d think after 26 years I would have figured it out…but no, every single time, I’m surprised.

My former husband called me Friday and said: happy Easter. (Aww, that was kind…did I mention I should have known better than to think is was sincere?)
After a brief time of catching up, he asks if I know what Thing 1 did.
Uh…no.
Well it seems she went to the emergency room and the bill showed up at his house as that’s the one listed on her driver’s license. So he wants to know what I’m going to do about the bill.
Pardon?

I suggest we have a mini discussion about it with Thing 1, see if we can come up with a plan all together. (I mean if she’s off shacked up with this guy, why are we still financially responsible for her?)

Then he begins to talk about Thing 2 and how bad her anxiety has become.
I suggest he take her to the doctor. He has no idea what that means…no idea where to start. I suggest he take her to the family practitioner and go from there…and when he hems and haws I remind him that he’s the parent and he has to be responsible for her. Which kind of turns into a bigger discussion than he’s interested in so he hustles off the phone but not before he says he’ll call me back. (He doesn’t.)

Saturday morning I get a call from Thing 1, guns a’ blazing. She’s all bent because, “Daddy told me you said send the bill to me. How am I supposed to pay it?”
Whoa there sister.
I do a little damage control and move on.

I call her father (who conveniently doesn’t answer) and leave a message.
When he finally calls me back, I’m like, what’s your deal?
He says: Well I was mad at you so I called Thing 1. (You stupid, passive aggressive, manipulative jackass!)
I stop him right there and say, “You have got to get it together! Be a grown up, be a man! If you are angry with me, you talk to ME! Not our children! You’re up my ass about money but can’t be bothered to discuss what’s going on with Thing 2. You’ve made a huge mess down there and you are going to have to clean it up.”
He is quiet, then he makes excuses, then he apologizes. (The apology is meaningless, he just says it out of habit, to end the conversation.)

I honestly don’t understand. Any of it really. Starting with the fact I thought he was a grown up all those long years ago and ending with how I continue to ask myself, why did I choose to remain blind for so long?

I made a promise to remain hands off in the fall when he and Thing 2 decided she didn’t need a mommy in her life.
I made that promise to myself. I vowed not to clean up whatever mess they made. It has made for some harrowing moments for me…but I am sticking to it.
The problem is they’ve made a bigger mess than I could have ever imagined. Thing 2 will suffer for it, but she is choosing to…
He has no idea how to be a parent other than to provide food and shelter…that’s all he’s ever done.
The thing that frustrates me the most is the fact he won’t admit he’s cocked it up. He would rather let it all burn than admit he’s made a mess and try and figure out how to clean it up…or ask for help cleaning it up.

He called me under the guise of happy Easter, my beloved Easter. And I was surprised when it went down the rabbit hole. (Shame on me.)
When will I stop being surprised? Why do I continue to give the benefit of the doubt?

I am so much better off away from that toxicity.
I’ve thrown my baby a life raft, she’s choosing not to take it.
It’s time to sink or swim.
My friend and mentor has told me I built her foundation and she’ll be successful in spite of all this…I trust that.

I’m so disappointed in myself for believing so long that he is something he’s not…I believed the facade I helped create.

Categories: divorce, me, on being a mom | Tags: cleaning up the mess, daughters, disappointment, divorce, feelings, finances, frustration, manipulative, parenting, passive aggressive, relationships, sadness, surprise | 5 Comments

the sad sandwich?

Posted on April 5, 2014 by robynbird

I’m feeling sad today, and missing my two Things.

I know I made the decision to come be here, and Thing 1 isn’t at ‘home’ anyway, and Thing 2 decided she was no longer interested in having me participate in her daily goings on…but I find myself missing the daily life stuff.
YBW and I were looking at tile for the impending kitchen remodel and stopped on the way back home for subs, when we sat down, I got teary realizing how much I dislike not being around my girls.

Something as simple as ordering subs and having Thing 1 build a big ol’ salad on the teeniest amount of meat and cheese then drowning it in oil and vinegar, and Thing 2 with just ham and cheese with a bit of honey mustard and mayo…these are just silly things that make me love being their mom.
Here’s something nobody ever thinks to tell you, the silly things are the most important.

I love being the ‘mom at this house’ for Thing C and Thing G.
(Thing G used that phrase, we all went to see the Lego Movie when it came out, we all being YBW, the Things, their mom, stepdad, and uncle, and he wanted to sit between “the two girls” that way he would be beside the “mom of each house”.)
But it just isn’t the same as being the mom of my own two Things. For starters, I honestly do not understand boys. They are an enigma to me…not to mention all that testosterone!
I long for girlie contact! Estrogen fueled giggles and television/movie watching, shoe and clothes shopping. My niece, Girlie Thing works for that most times…I’m practically her mom, too…but she’s very tied up with sports and her friends and, well…her own mom that we don’t actually get to do it as often as either of us like.

It’s not about a ‘date’ though it’s about the every day. Those weird phone calls that start out with, “Mommy, can you swing by Publix or Bi Lo on your way home?” And end with a list of the most ridiculous things from sushi (They assure me the premade at Publix is pretty decent in a pinch, I don’t eat sushi.) to grape juice and chocolate Pop Tarts. Or random Saturday morning quickies in our pajamas to Waffle House because Thing 2 and I were lazy and didn’t feel like making breakfast. Or just being with one or both of them, because it’s natural and we’re a part of each other, conversing without having to speak, a look or gesture or trademark silly face that means so much. Or a lifetime of memories that mean nothing to anyone but us. Or a house full of girls doing hair and make-up in both bathrooms…or all the kids hanging out on the sofa with sodas and pizza because even though we didn’t live on the lake like most of their friends, it was the ‘coolest’ place to hang out. (6 teenagers and a hammer, anyone?)

I am where I belong. Of this I have no doubt. And most days I’m happily engaged in this new life I’m building. But there are those times, like now, when I long for my ‘other’ life…the one where I’m the mom of my own Things and not having to share somebody else’s Things.

Clearly I’m feeling a bit sorry for myself today. Perhaps it will pass quickly because honestly, I don’t think I have the patience to be sad about Jersey Mike’s sandwiches much longer.

Categories: me, on being a mom | Tags: chick flicks, daughters, feelings, fun, giggles, girls, happy, home, jersey mike's, kitchen remodel, lego movie, loss, love, motherhood, parenting, relationships, sad, shoe shopping, silly, tile, waffle house | 5 Comments

happy birthday, Thing 1

Posted on March 2, 2014 by robynbird

I completed my second decade of motherhood today.
Thing 1 is twenty, but not until 7:21 this evening to be precise. This is the first year I will not be with her on the anniversary of her birth, I thought it would make me feel more sad, but I guess I’m growing too, accepting that she is a pseudo-adult and her birthdays are no longer about her family of origin, but the new family she is beginning to create for herself with friends and fiancee. (That word still gives me pause.)

I was up very late editing the book and slept until 9:00 waking in a momentary panic that I hadn’t yet called her. In addition to not being with her on this day, this year marks the first time I was not the first person to tell her, Happy Birthday. That fell to N this year, as I suspect it will for years to come.
It doesn’t matter though, for she will always be my baby…my very first girl, the one who was given to me to challenge me to be the best possible me. She and I have had some dark times, but the light was always lit just waiting for it’s time to shine again.

N entered her into a contest in which she won tickets to a bridal show in Savannah…so that is how she’ll spend her 20th birthday…how precious, and how appropriate for her.
My sweet girl is no longer stubbornly fighting her Aunt Sundance and me to wear too small shoes. She is no longer swimming in the pool when the water is 50 degrees simply so she could be the first one in and the last one out at the start and close of our pool season. She is no longer that lost girl trying to understand what to make of her world when I changed it by leaving her dad. She is no longer the girl who hurt herself and came to me desperately begging for help. She’s not even the girl we dropped off at college with her most precious lovey, the little pink doll, Emily who had seen her through all her scariest moments.

She is a woman, one who is beginning to make a real plan for her life, to go back to school and study something she is passionate about, to find a job and make a home, and plan a wedding. She is able to open up and be honest with me about who she is and what she thinks and feels.
She sparkles once again, the way she did when she was small.

Sometimes I worry that she is too jaded, so quick to assess and pass judgment because it can come across as unkind…she’s going to have to learn to temper this, perhaps time and maturity will aid in that. I believe she feels safe enough to be who she really thinks she is, even if she’s a bit brash because I trusted her to make her own opinions and express her creativity…it is very hard to have a strong mother, I suspect she felt she had to fight to be heard instead of trusting in me to hear. Perhaps that is why she is quick to express her opinion without thought of how it might make those around her feel.

She is so bright, and interested in things that boggle my mind, she loves science and math, even though she wasn’t terribly successful in those courses. She is truly an artist who has yet to find her medium.
She has made me so proud, not simply because I’m her mom, but because I know her. Yes, I raised her, I did my best to give her a solid foundation upon which to build her life, but I am savvy enough to know that she has impacted her own character and destiny, and I can honestly say, I am proud to be her mom and proud to know her as a person.

Today is bittersweet for me, that little girl is still inside the interesting woman she’s become, but those times are gone, nothing but nuggets of precious memory, old photographs and an indelible imprint upon my heart.
I accomplished and survived her.
My love for her is knows no bounds.
I am still her “Mommy” but I am also something new.

Categories: love, on being a mom | Tags: adventure, birthday, blessings, celebrate, celebration, daughters, grown women, happiness, happy, happy birthday, joy, little girls, love, motherhood, mothers, parenting, relationships, second decade, twenty years, unconditional love | 4 Comments

missing Mommie

Posted on January 25, 2014 by robynbird

I’ve been experiencing above average feelings of missing my mom the past week or so. I find it sits rather ill with me, this feeling of missing her. I had a…peculiar relationship with her to say the least…with an entire baggage carriage of unresolved issues accumulated over my lifetime. The thing I need to remind myself the most is that these bags would still be packed and loaded in the baggage carriage even if she was still living.
Mommie was not inclined to examine or converse any subject she found distasteful, which could include anything from how to apply eyeliner to why she sent me to live with my absentee dad when I was 15.
YBW always asks questions like, why didn’t you ask her about these things? I’m like, DUDE! What part of me saying she wouldn’t answer a direct question if it somehow displeased her did you not understand?
Oh did I ask questions…like when Thing 1 was in kindergarten and would come home to her mommy and baby sister every day as opposed to when I was in kindergarten and wore a key around my neck on a ribbon and came home to an empty house because I had no dad and a mom who worked fulltime to support my little brother and me.
So one day I said to her: You were really brave, that must have been really scary for you to be so far away at work when I was home by myself in kindergarten.
She replied: I did what I had to do.
Me: Was that hard for you?
Mommie: I had no choice.
Me: No, I guess you didn’t, but I can’t imagine Thing 1 coming home by herself in the middle of the day and not worrying about her. I’m not sure I could be that brave.
Mommie: I knew you were capable.
Me: But you didn’t worry, you weren’t scared for me?
Mommie: I had no choice. I knew you could handle it.
Me: Well, I think you were really brave.
Mommie: I didn’t have a choice.
(Notice anything interesting about this conversation? Like, oh I don’t know, it’s completely one sided?)

Or when I was 17, the time I got a call from a church mom whose little girl I babysat, she wondered if I was still willing to sit for her even though I lived so far away at my dad’s house now…at the end of the call, she asked me if I was excited for my mom… I replied, about what? Then she did that age old dance called the “hem-haw” and finally told me that my brother had stood up in church the week before to share a joy…the joy that his mom was to marry another church member. (I didn’t know the phrase WTF then…but I can assure you I experienced the sensation.)
So I called over Grandaddy’s (my former home) and got my brother on the phone: Anything interesting you want to share?
And for the second time that day I was treated to the “hem-haw” dance…until finally I said: E, I’m not mad just tell me what’s going on…I know what happened in church on Sunday.
He whispered: they made me swear not to tell you. Then out loud he said: Mommie just got home you want to talk to her?
His face must have told the story because she got on the phone: I wanted to tell you in person.
Me: But not before you let E tell the whole congregation. You can’t pick up the phone?
Mommie: I wanted to tell you in person.
Me: But you didn’t. Who are you even marrying?
Mommie told me and I was only vaguely aware of this human being…then she decided I should come over for that weekend and then I could meet him. And then she dropped the big bomb…she wanted me to be her maid of honor when they got married.
To her it was OK that I was in the dark, E knew…E was permitted to develop a relationship with this man…E was asked for his opinion and approval before she decided to say yes. E was to “give her away” to this man. But I was not even given the consideration of a phone call. (I suspect I sound petulant, I didn’t feel petulant or even slighted, I just didn’t understand.)

And the time I dared to ask the most important question…seeking the answer to the event that changed my entire life. (I asked this as an adult.)
Why did you send me to Daddy’s?
And she said: I thought you needed your father.
Me: The father who left me when I was five?
To which she said: NOTHING.
So I went on: What about Grandaddy? What about E? Did they have a say? Why didn’t you talk to me? Did you even talk to Daddy about it or did you just decree it? How do you just kick someone to the curb like that?
To which she said: NOTHING.
Me: Mommie, don’t you think I should finally be allowed to understand what happened?
Mommie: No. It’s over now so there’s no need to bring it up.

All I know is how it happened, after spending a week of so at my dad’s the summer after my freshman year, I called my mom and said, I’m ready to come home, will you get me on your way home from work?
All she said was: you’re not coming home.
She unceremoniously packed up by belongings in big black garbage bags and had them waiting on the front porch for me to pick up. I wasn’t even allowed to go into the house. I never got to hug my Grandaddy or E.

Daddy has since told me that she called him and said: if you don’t take her I’m sending her to a home.
There is a part of me that considers this could be the truth, but my dad has an affinity towards exaggeration so I’m not sure I’ll ever know.

My mom was sick for a long time before she told anyone. She was hospitalized for 18 days with pneumonia before she would “let” her husband call me to tell me they found cancerous cells in her lungs because “she didn’t want to tell me unless they knew what it was”. She died seventeen days later. Seventeen days.
I was able to go see her, to be with her for a few precious days between the two phone calls. I was shocked to see her so sick, it was the first time in my life that her body was not bigger than mine, the first time in my life that I held her and she didn’t hold me. The first time in my life I realized how stupid I’d been thinking things would always be one way and never considering they would be a completely different way. I was desperately clinging to my concept of myself as child even though I am a parent, thinking that 40 simply wasn’t old enough to not have a mom anymore.
I was blessed with that time with her, none of our baggage was unpacked but I got to love her in an entirely new way. I was blessed because she was still her, I made a snide remark and she shot me her ‘mom look’ the one that used to frighten me so, but this time I laughed and said, you don’t scare me, you’re dying and you’re still trying to scare me into submission. She intensified the look and I smiled, at her leaned over and kissed her emaciated face and said softly, OK, maybe you scared me a little. She nodded her head and made a little “hmph” noise. She was Mommie even though she was sick and frail and could hardly breathe she was that terrible, tyrannical admiral who was the irrefutable boss of us all. She told me to go home and be a mommy.
(Things 1 and 2 had three nights of play at school, and their dad was going to his Goddaughter’s wedding out of state, and even though Thing 1 could cook and drive, nobody was comfortable with them being home alone.)

When I left my Mommie, I knew it was for the last time and I hugged and kissed her and laid in her bed all snuggled up to her and I said: I’m going to come back next week but if you’re not here, that’s OK. You go where you need to go because you’ll always be my Mommie and I’ll always love you. (And that was when the tears finally came even though I’d promised myself I wouldn’t cry in front of her.)
She put her hand on my face and said: Don’t cry, baby.
I took a big breath and held it for a moment before I said: You go where you’re going and when you get there you tell my Grandaddy I miss him.
She smiled and nodded and for the last time she said: I love you, baby.

That was Tuesday, I was planning to go back down on Sunday after the show closed and the Things dad came back from the wedding, but I got the call at 8 that morning from her husband who was so broken up I almost didn’t understand him. I was all ready to get in the car and go when he requested he be able to be with her alone when she died. I respected their love and did as he asked. This is the one thing in my life I regret. I know now I should have been there when she died. Not really for her, though partly, but for myself. I needed to do that for both of us, but didn’t because I was trying to be kind to him.

The one thing that comforts me about those two phone calls is YBW. I was up here for the weekend when I got the first call, and though I left messages for Sundance and the Things dad, YBW was the first person I told live. I was here for a few hours before he got home and already in bed, when he got into be he hugged me and kissed my hair, and I said: my mom has cancer. I can’t talk about it right now but I had to say it out loud.
He held me close and let me fall asleep.
He was down there with me the weekend the second call came, he had come to see the play and we were just waking up when the phone rang. He was helpless and I was manic, but he was there and I will always remember the importance of that.

My “Mommie” baggage carriage will never be unloaded but I’ve parked it in a siding so I don’t have to haul it around with me every single day. Sometimes I allow myself to go into it and rifle through the bags, because there is good stuff packed in there along with the not so good.
I miss her because I want to tell her things only she will find amusing, like how Good Guys is closed and the building is up for lease…Sundance and I are the only ones left who understand the humor in that. I want to tell her things about the Things. I want to share how wonderful my life with YBW is…she never even met him.
My two year old friends at school always reassure each other that mommies and daddies ALWAYS come back when they’re suffering separation anxiety. I agree with them saying: yes, mommies always come back. But I always think: except mine. (Perhaps you’re never too old to experience separation anxiety.)

I’m much older than my mom was when her mother died and I’m older than my beloved sister-in-law was when hers died. I guess I really miss the idea of having a mom.
That concept of comfort a mom provides. It’s funny because I would experience moments of “I want my Mommie” when she was still living even though I knew full well she wouldn’t bring me any comfort.
She was critical and bitter and she was closed off and she fought for constant control, but she loved me. I’d stake anything on that. She loved me and I felt and continue to feel it. I didn’t know her, I surely don’t understand her…but I love her.

I have worked to show my girls who I am, so they never experience the same feelings about me that I have about her.
Thing 1 was probably her favorite of her three granddaughters. Thing 1 was her first grandbaby and I believe the most precious, she loved Thing 2 and my niece Thing D, but I’ve never thought she loved them the way she loved Thing 1. One day, years ago while riding in the car Thing 1 asked me a biblical question which I could partially answer, then I suggested she call Grandmommy and ask her. She did right there in the car, got the rest of her answer and when she hung up she said: Grandmommy is awesome. I’m sorry you don’t really like her.
(WHOA!)
I said: I love Grandmommy very much it’s just a complicated relationship. I don’t really know her very well so it feels kind of hard to like her. She doesn’t really comfort me like I hope a mommy would comfort her child which is hard, but I know she loves me and I love her.
Thing 1 was quiet for a moment and then she said: I’m sorry Grandmommy doesn’t comfort you Mommy, because I can’t imagine how awful it would be if you didn’t comfort me. You always make me feel better when anything is bad. You’re very good at comforting.
Then almost under her breath she said: Thing 2 and I are really lucky you’re our mommy.

I realize this has been kind of chaotic jumping all over the place but that’s how it goes when I think about my mom. The feelings of love are inexplicably linked to the feelings of pain and disappointment. I have worked to raise my girls in a more authentic environment…one where they see that I’m a real person I’m not a dictator, though I’ve held ultimate veto power, I’m a real woman who was a real girl who made mistakes and good choices and tried to learn from each. I’m flawed and that doesn’t matter because I’ve worked to be the best mom I can be, to give them the best of me but not keep the worst from them. I have been more intimate with them than my mom probably ever was with anyone in her life. They know me…at least I hope they do, I’ve tried to help them learn why and how I’m me. Perhaps they have baggage carriages labeled with my name, but they know we can unpack them together or they’ve been given the tools to unpack them by alone. Perhaps.

I’d like to miss my mom in a less painful way. I’d like to just miss her because I’m selfish and no longer have her in my life. But that isn’t how it is for me. I miss her for every opportunity we lost to become close, I miss her for every time she chose to “protect me” instead of trust me.
I miss her for all the silliness we experienced together, dancing to Elvis records when I was a tiny girl, the crazy ER doctor when I broke my fingers, the infamous road trip involving cows, changing clothes while driving, and Lucy Ricardo’s saxafifatronaphonovich, or the penis shaped popsicle mold she just had to have because she was amused by it.
I miss her for the moment she actually did comfort me, when she held me in her lap in the rocking chair when my beloved kitty of 16 years died.
I miss her for the relationship she didn’t let us have…and for the one we did have.

I’m indulging myself by feeling sad, by missing her.
She wouldn’t have the patience for this. She would yank me up and hiss in my ear: stop this! Be strong. Keep your head down and just go.
I fight the impulse to say those words to myself. I’ve learned I need to be talked to differently. I’ve learned it’s acceptable to indulge myself. I keep my emotions under constantly tight control because that’s what I was taught. But I asked why one time too many and learned only I could answer that.
So occasionally I indulge myself and open the baggage carriage and spend time unpacking…I let the tears come. I allow myself to feel every little thing I feel I accept these feelings and honor them. Then I pack everything back up in what I image are beautiful antique steamer trunks and gorgeous old traveling bags then lock the baggage carriage behind me and just go.
(It is not lost on me she would be horrified I’ve written all this, but she would enjoy the train carriage analogy and it makes me smile.)

Categories: death, loss, love, me, on being a mom | Tags: baggage carriage, blessings, daughters, death, feelings, grief, loss, love, mothers, mothers and daughters, relationships, sadness, saying goodbye, silliness, unconditional love, unpacking | 6 Comments

a “date” with Thing C

Posted on January 17, 2014 by robynbird

YBW’s Thing C is one of my very favorite human beings! I absolutely adore this young man! He is kind and compassionate with a wicked sharp sense of humor.
We talk of music and movies and books and girls.
We share music, I’m educating him on some seriously old school classic and punk rock and he’s helped me learn to love Dave Grohl.
I’ve seen Fight Club (and loved it) because of him and he’s watched Some Like it Hot (and loved it) because of me. (This is only the tip of the iceberg.)
We share a love of Shakespeare and The Great Gatsby and so much so that this year on his birthday, he decided he wanted to rewatch the new Gatsby movie simply because I had not yet seen it. We’ve read and discussed plays and I’m absolutely dying to take him to the American Shakespeare Center/Blackfriar’s Playhouse when something we’re both interested in is playing.
I ask questions about girls because he doesn’t really seem to talk to either YBW or his mom about them, sometimes it’s good to have a “grown-up” who loves you and keeps you safe that isn’t exactly your parent to say those kinds of things to. I even tried to set him up with a girl who works part time at my school (she’s the same age and goes to the same local university as him), this didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to…though perhaps it did, she wasn’t interested…which means she’s not as awesome as I first suspected. Both my two Things have met this girl and decided she’s stupid because our Thing C is a catch!
Neither one of us really likes Asian food very much but we both love Mexican…we plan silly little “dates” to have Mexican food just because we can.

When I see his car parked in front of our house when I drive up I get so excited! It means good conversation and laughs and perhaps something new to share. I am always met with a hug and a sincere interest in my day.

Thing 2 left today to head back to her daddy…Sundance took her to the train station…I was feeling a bit sad when I came home from school, but when I turned the corner onto our street I saw his car in front of the house and I was instantly smiling!
After big hugs, we talked about a gig he’s playing (He’s a bassist.) and whether or not I was to photograph it for them we also read the most inappropriate comment strand on one of my friend’s fb statuses and laughed at the complete lack of propriety. (Should I be ashamed of myself? I’m not.)

This might seem like a strange post…but Thing C has been visiting his grandparents in the lone star state for the last two weeks and I missed him so there was big love and happiness today!
Since YBW and Thing G have plans for tomorrow we’ve planned a “date” to go get Mexican food and discussed lying on the sofa to watch my favorite movie of all time, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Then perhaps we’ll go over the used bookstore and see what moves us. It’s going to be a great Saturday!