therobynbirdsnest

I wanted to share the stories

Posted on April 19, 2020 by robynbird

Tuesday last I went to the PO to send out all the photos I sorted for my friends and family.
I sent five large first class envelopes, three bigger priority mail padded envelopes, and one big priority mail box.

The first text came from my cousin Chris at 11:32 Thursday morning.

Bless you Robyn! Bless you. Just got the pics you sent me. Brought some much needed happiness, and a tear to my eye. Love you.

The second text came the same day at 5:02 from his sister.

I got the pictures. Thank you so much. Perfect timing Chris is coming over tomorrow.

The third text I got was from Sally at 5:11 Thursday afternoon.

Who are the other two folks?

I got Nicole’s text at 3:24 on Saturday.

We are loving all the pics! Thank you!

At 5:40 this came from Kristen. She taught second grade to both my girls. When Thing 2 was in her class, she had her first child. We saw them frequently. With the aid of social media we stayed in touch all these years, and she was here to celebrate with us last summer at the party for Baby K!

What a surprise!!!! Thank you!!!

He’s checking himself out (heart emoji)

I heard from Becca later Saturday evening at 8:18.

OMG!!!! Loved it!!! Thank you (with a bunch of smiley heart emojis)

Sundance got quarantined away from home, so her package is at her house waiting for her.

And the big box was delivered to the Things father, but I haven’t heard anything. I mean, not that I expected to. But I keep thinking, now I regret being kind to you.

Thing 1 said, “Momma, never regret being kind.” and she’s right.
None of these packages were about me. About the response I got for sending them.

I sent photos to my friends and family because I wanted to share the stories.
Their kids were babies in some of these photos. The stories of their whole young lives caught in these images. I wanted to share those stories, those memories with their families.
I absolutely adored going through these photos. The stories they told came back in vivid detail. Jogging my memory of other stories. I spent a few days reliving my daughters young lives. It was a sacred place to be.
It was also bittersweet. This part of our lives is past. And dwelling too long there would be less precious and more painful with every passing moment.
The time I spent revisiting my life, the lives of the people I love was a beautiful gift. I’ve sent off photos to my friends and family so they can revisit their own journeys. I find myself ready to once again look forward.

I’m pleased to be finished with that portion of the process. I look forward to the time when I can be with each of my girls and go through their boxes of photos. Sharing memories, stories, laughter, and maybe even tears.
In the meantime, I have the last two boxes. These are more photos from my past. Some of me as a child. Some from the collections of my parents and grandparents.
They feel less fun to me. Though, I remain hopeful that I’ll find pics that tell a story I don’t remember. Or one the girls don’t know so I can share with them.

I do still have a box of photo CDs to add to one of those external hard drives. Though, I’m not in a big hurry to get after that. I need a break from my life as a young mother. I don’t want to feel that bittersweet feeling. That pull of the past.

Those CDs will be there. Sitting in that box. Waiting patiently until I’m ready.

Categories: me | Tags: documentation, every picture tells a story, family, family history, family stories, friends, friends and family, gift of love, history, joy, labor of love, life, love, memories, moments shape your life, organization, photographic evidence, photographs, photos, relationships, self quarantine, sharing, social distancing, stories, storytelling | 11 Comments

the little things

Posted on April 18, 2020 by robynbird

I face timed with Sally and her family on Tuesday.
So many kisses blown!

I had the worst headache I’ve had in nearly two years on Wednesday.
Waves of pain so great they caused involuntary tears.
Lying down with my magnet mask saved the day!

I saw Thing 2’s relief money was in her account Thursday morning.
Replenished savings FTW!

I talked with Jessica Thursday morning.
That love is real!

I saw Holly in the afternoon on Thursday!
She stood in my yard and I stood on my porch. We exchanged a bottle of olive oil and a ten dollar (founding father without a father)

I went to the acupuncturist yesterday. Had my treatment and picked up my Chinese herbs.
Listened to the Hamilton soundtrack on the way home.
I can’t tell you how much better I feel!

I talked to Thing 1 while I was in the car on the way to Falls Church.
Husband N said, “Love you, Birdie!” and I heard Baby K giggling!

I read the 7 1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle this week.
Am still reeling!

I swung by Bards Alley Bookshop.
My (prepaid) book was in a basket on their patio waiting for me to come pick it up!

Watched Lego Masters finale off the DVR last night.
The team I love most didn’t win.
The team that started out with the most trouble ended in the final three!

I woke this morning to hot coffee and gooey cinnamon rolls.
YBW is the best!

I’m picking up shampoo and conditioner at the hair salon today.
Prepaid and waiting in a bag for me at the door.
Healthy clean hair!

So much rain this week.
But, much less pollen!

The sun just came out from behind the clouds!

These are the little every day joys from my week.
It really is the little things, y’all!

Categories: me | Tags: books, communication, friends and family, grateful, gratitude, Little Everyday Joys, love, music, reading, self care, self quarantine, social distancing, thankful, YBW | 4 Comments

a tune for Tuesday vol 67

Posted on April 14, 2020 by robynbird

I got an email from YBW with the link to this song, he wrote, “If you need an option for T4T. I like the song, but when I saw the video I was meh.”
I’m over here LOVING this song! And tbph, I don’t mind the vid.

Check out This Girl by Kungs vs Cookin’ on 3 Burners.
What do you think?

Please listen responsibly.

Categories: music | Tags: i dig music, Kungs vs Cookin’ on 3 Burners, music, This Girl, tune for Tuesday | Leave a comment

ready for porch life

Posted on April 13, 2020 by robynbird

Ever notice how everything is straight chaos while you’re trying to organize?
YBW and I spent the majority of Saturday on the porch. Bringing out the rugs, furniture, and cushion storage containers. Putting together new outdoor dining furniture.

The breeze was chilly, but it was warm in the sun. You can see the abandoned hoodie on the chair.
We moved all that cardboard to a sunny spot in the yard and asked Thing G to come out and break it down.
Because the winter was rather mild, most of the herbs are coming back. I need to get more basil and lavender, but all the peppermint, cat nip, thyme, and lemon balm is growing like gangbusters! (In case you’re wondering, yes, these herbs do help deter mosquitos.)

We rearranged a few times before we got it right, but were pleased with where we landed.
So much so that we made cocktails and a late lunch/early dinner about four o’clock and ate at our new table on the porch!

We went over to the construction site Sunday morning and walked around in the townhouse unit that’s like ours will be. YBW spent time looking at where to put some sort of chase in which to connect future solar panels on the roof with the electrical system. I was all about furniture placement.
We had our cameras with us and planned to visit a park and walking trails, just to get out of the house. But as we were leaving the new houses, it began to rain. No sense walking around the park in the rain, so we headed home. We drove right out of the rain in one county and into a warm sunny day in the next.

I picked up Meredith’s book and plopped myself on the porch all afternoon until it got windy and rainy and I had to come inside.

The maple tree helicopters are flying about. The oak trees haven’t yet dropped their weird little wormy-pollen-things. I’m waiting to set up the fountain until after that mess. I missed the water sounds as I sat out there, but I’ll be patient, I hate cleaning oak tree pollen out of the fountain.
I’m ready for porch life, y’all!

Of course it’s pouring and windy with mad storms on this Monday morning.
But I’ll be patient because I’ve got all spring…and summer…and fall to spend on that porch. And when the world opens back up, I’ll invite loads of folks to share in my porch life!

Categories: me | Tags: back porch, cocktails, deck furniture, hard work, home organization, IKEA, love, love my life, organize, porch life, self quarantine, social distancing | 9 Comments

knowing and telling of stories

Posted on April 11, 2020 by robynbird

In case you were wondering the status of the great and arduous process, here’s an update.
This is what It looked like when I finished through 2002.

Each of those boxes was chock full of photos.
I finished the preliminary sort and purge, and returned to those boxes only the photos about which I wanted to share stories. Or photos I wanted the girls to be able to decide what to keep and what to purge.
There are five finished boxes, in those boxes, I sorted the pictures into the following categories.
Thing 1 only
Thing 2 only
the Things together
me
Mommie, Daddie, and Grandaddy (yeah, all in one box, but I only had five)

Of course then I had to bring the rest of the boxes upstairs.

At this point, I’ve gotten through 2004. I haven’t looked at photos since Saturday last. I needed a break this week.
As I sort, if it’s for one of my girls, I write the year and who’s in the pic on the back. First and last names and where the photo was taken if I know. That’s to help jog their memories.

In addition to sorting out photos for the girls, I’m setting some aside to be sent to other people. My intent is to box these up and put them in the mail just as soon as I finish the initial sort and purge. I’m only writing the date on the backs of these.

From left to right, these stacks will be sent to the following people:
Becca
Nicole
the next two are for my cousins
Brooke
Sundance
Sally
the Things father

Grandaddy was on each of these ships.
Either in WWII or Korea.
With a teeny bit of research, I was able to verify which ship was which and label accordingly.
This Golden Dragon thing was kind of cool, I just wish I knew more about it.

I have all his Navy information in a container in the basement. I’m hoping to connect each ship with his time on it, as well as locate his ribbons, dog tags, etc. and compile all that information in one place. For what purpose? Well, in the meantime, just for me. If at some point Thing 2 wants it, yay!, if not, equally yay!, it’s her choice.

It’s interesting to learn more about the man who raised me. He never talked about himself, or his life. As far as we knew, he didn’t exist until the day I was born. He was simply Grandaddy. My mom didn’t talk about his life either, or her own. I grew up knowing practically nothing about the people who raised me.
I tried to do that differently when I became a mom.
I want those girls to know who I am and why. That in addition to being their Momma, I’m a girl. A human being with thoughts and feels and plans and dreams and a sense of humor and flaws. And love.
Knowing and telling each other’s stories is so important!

I’m planning to go back to the photos this coming week.
But today, YBW and I are going to set up the porch! After his cleaning and protective sealing of the porch a couple weeks ago, I purposely waited. I wanted to let the pollening happen before we set it up for porch life. But I’m tired of waiting! I’m looking at the oak trees and realize I simply don’t have the patience to outlast them.
We’re going to set up rugs and furniture and umbrellas today.
Then I’ll be able to go out and porch life whenever I please!

Categories: me | Tags: back porch, documentation, every picture tells a story, family, family history, family stories, friends, history, love, memories, moments that shape your life, organization, photographic evidence, photos, porch life, self quarantine, social distancing, stories, storytelling | 12 Comments

routine > normal

Posted on April 9, 2020 by robynbird

I grow weary of trying to feel normal.
The way we’re currently living is not remotely normal, so why in the holy hell are we pretending it is?
I mean, I get it. If we behave somewhat normally, it won’t feel as strange.
But it’s not normal, so why are we trying to make it feel normal?
Perhaps it’s time to accept that the normal we knew is gone and will never return.

I’ve worked so hard to keep some semblance of normal while being stuck at home.
Bathing and getting dressed. Doing the work things before the lounge-y things. I’m not wearing mascara. I’m not wearing my wedding rings. I am wearing jeans some days. I’m wearing yoga pants and leggings other days. I am never wearing jammies unless it’s the evening or I’m in my bed.
I’m sick of forcing normal.

Yesterday I didn’t bathe, but I did get dressed. I didn’t do anything remotely productive. I didn’t tidy. I didn’t sort photos. I didn’t write.
Want to know what I did all freaking day yesterday?
I was on pinterest.
All. Damn. Day.
I have no guilt.
I’m tired of attempting to feel normal.

I made an active choice to just check out.
I saw and pinned the most random stuff. From Harry Potter (Weasley is our King!) to organization. From cocktail recipes to all things Avengers. From houseplans and music to girl power and Good Omens. (I do not ship Crowley and Aziraphale as a couple, I love their friendship.)
I didn’t make dinner. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t want to. I just sat in front of my computer.

Today I feel different than I did the last few days.
I’ve been so frustrated and antsy.
But today I feel kind of refreshed.
Was looking and pinning all day was engaging yet mindless enough to make a difference?
Did I simply need a reset?

I’m tired of coping.
I’d like to be living.
Complaint is not my intention. I’m simply expressing my thoughts and feels.
I feel weary.
I know there’s not a way out for the foreseeable future.
I’m prepared to accept the situation.
I think I’m past the point of trying to keep it normal.
At this point normal is simply a word like egg or tree. I’ve lost the meaning.
Maybe that’s better for me? Maybe I need a new sense of normal?
TBPH, we all probably do.
It isn’t the way it was.
It’s not going to be the way it was.
This is it.
This is how we live now.
We need to discover how to make a new normal. One that keeps us safe and sane.
And on the day when the world opens back up, that’ll be an entirely new level of normal.

In the meantime, I’ve come to realize routine is one thing, normal is quite another.
So I’ll be sticking to my routine.
But I’m going to let go of normal for a while.

Categories: me | Tags: normal, routine, self quarantine, social distancing, weary | 16 Comments

the disconnect

Posted on April 8, 2020 by robynbird

I see photos of big urban cities with empty streets.
I understand the significance.
I understand the power of these images.
I understand how impactful it is to the city, to the world, but mostly to the people who live there.

I live at the end of a cul de sac at the back of a suburban neighborhood. Unless kids are out on their bikes, it’s mostly quiet. And this is when the world was normal.
What’s so strange to me is that even in this time in which we’re all staying put, it’s not that much different here.
We live in a place that doesn’t wear the impact of covid-induced self quarantine on it’s sleeve.

It’s a real disconnect.
Life looks pretty much the same.
It’s only in the going about suburban living that I see how different everything actually is.
But there’s the rub. I’m not supposed to be going out.

I find it so strange.
I watch the news.
I see social media.
I talk with friends and family.
What’s going on in the world is something I’m acutely aware of.
But I don’t see the evidence, you know?
My street doesn’t look any different.

Maybe that’s just suburban life.
The quiet cul de sac exists for just this reason.
To lull you into a sense of safety and comfort.

I am so fucking tired of hearing lawn mowers.

These thoughts aren’t fully hatched, so I may not be making sense trying to express them.
But I understand what I feel.
And it looks like this.

There’s a whole lotta WTF? going on.
I have access to information, but don’t actually bear witness.
I’m being impacted by the same things as the rest of the world, only it doesn’t actually look that way…?
Am I grateful to be affected, but not have to see?
Does it make it more or less real to me?
I’m truthfully not sure where I’m going with this, I just know it means something.
Perhaps I should wait for my thoughts to fully hatch before writing them down?

Categories: me | Tags: disconnected, grateful, life, love, random thoughts, self quarantine, social distancing, thankful | 11 Comments

a tune for Tuesday vol 66

Posted on April 7, 2020 by robynbird

I freaking love this song by Saint Motel!
Check out Van Horn and let me know what you think!

Please listen responsibly.

Categories: music | Tags: i dig music, music, Saint Motel, tune for Tuesday, Van Horn | 2 Comments

each story is different

Posted on April 6, 2020 by robynbird

Thing 2’s restaurant closed and she’s without income.
She saved money, but during this time of no income, she’s had to dip into her savings. She needed groceries and vodka, she ordered some carry out, she bought loo paper and deodorant. You know, things we all need.

Before the world went sideways, she and two friends began looking at houses for rent planning to move in June.
Of course being out of work means no money coming in, and dipping into her savings means there’s less savings for deposits and pet fees and the like.

She was having trouble with the unemployment website and expressed her concerns. She had exhausted all her options and no matter how many times she tried, she got stopped at a certain point in the process. The error message was that her social security number was invalid. She said to me, “I don’t exist.”
Saturday afternoon, YBW and I did a bit of research and got on the phone with her. Together, the three of us were able to figure out how to get past that point. Turns out it had nothing to do with her ssn and everything to do with the reason for seeking unemployment benefits. Once she got past that hurdle, everything seemed OK.
Now she waits.
She’s applying for jobs.
Literally all the jobs. From grocery store cashier to the person who assembles the device that lowers coffins into graves.

YBW and I have each said however much it sucks, we’re so pleased she lives at her dad’s and doesn’t have to worry about paying to live with no income.
She appreciates having a roof over her head that she’s not financially responsible for. She understand some people aren’t as fortunate as she is.
I don’t write this as a comparison to another’s experience, I’m simply telling her story.

As much as Thing 2 desires and honestly needs to get out of her father’s house, the timing couldn’t be worse.
Her friends with whom she’s moving are both still working. Still earning money, still padding their savings.
Thing 2 said she doesn’t want to ‘get left behind’. She wants to figure a way to make this work.
I offered to help her financially, emotionally, etc.
I know I can only help her so much. I know she has to do things for herself.

It’s hard to watch her work so hard and be thwarted by circumstances beyond her control.
She’s talking about school. More seriously than she ever has before.
She wants to study funeral services. This is something she’s been talking about rather seriously for about two years.
She and I did some research and traded links in emails all afternoon Saturday.
She has anxiety about the financial aspect of going to school.
I can’t alleviate all that anxiety, but I can help.

She finally decided to get her mental and physical health in order. She finally decided to get her living arrangements in order. She’s doing some seriously hard work.
Sometimes hard work looks like one step forward, two steps back.
This looks a bit more like one step forward, five steps back.
She’s looking for work.
She’s applied for unemployment.
She’s hopeful money from the government will help.

We were talking about the differences between what’s going on here and what’s going on in Canada and I said I read that the checks from the US government are essentially tax credits meant to offset 2020 federal income taxes.

Sunday morning she sent this in the group chat.

You can see that Thing 1 has some pretty strong opinions about this.

The Things and I talked about how things work in our country. We talked about each other. We talked about the state of the world.

It seems to me we’re all so good at seeing things from our own point of view, especially now when we’re staying put more than ever before. But I find it helpful to experience things from other points of view. I like understanding what other people think and feel. Asking questions, getting answers, learning opinions.
I know so many of us are blogging about it.
I asked and received Thing 2’s consent to write about this.

Every story is different.
We each go through this in our own way.
Sharing our experiences helps everyone.
This is our life.

Categories: me | Tags: documentation, finances, first world problems, life, life experiences, living, love, positive change, self quarantine, social distancing, Thing 2, writing | 7 Comments

the responsibility of farmers and pigs

Posted on April 5, 2020 by robynbird

It’s YBW’s week back to work and he went in today to get a jump start. I’m not sure when but he was gone when I woke at 8:25.
I showered and got dressed and went downstairs.
Out the front door sidelights I saw the front yard, and thought, Damn, we didn’t tell the kid to mow the lawn.
I went into the kitchen and got excited when I saw a piece of paper at his place at the table.
(I got excited! YBW asked him to mow, so I wouldn’t have to. The kid often behaves as though what I say doesn’t always apply to him.)

Then I read the note.

Thing G,
Comb your hair before you go to work.
–Dad

And I was hit with the full force of the truth.

The reason the kid doesn’t think about anything but himself is because he’s not encouraged to.
He takes no responsibility as a human being and member of this household because he isn’t expected to.

We’re in ~~tricky~~ treacherous territory now. Because this is when it becomes personal for YBW. This is when he hears me say he’s a failure as a father.
Only, I’m not saying that.
I think he’s a kind and loving father. In fact, it’s one of the things I’ve always loved most about him. He’s even kind and loving to my children, not because he has to, but because he can.
I don’t think he’s failed as a father. I think he’s raised his children exactly the way he was raised.
How can that be a fail?
He has taken care of them with all the love and kindness he possesses.

Taken care of them to such a degree that one doesn’t have to worry about helping maintain his household.
Taken care of them to such a degree that one doesn’t even have to worry about helping himself.

Thing G will be twenty years old in forty-three days. He is so well loved and taken care of he doesn’t even need to remember to comb his own hair.

My husband was raised by a stay at home mother who literally did everything for the household.
Since the divorce of their parents, YBW’s sons were raised by a full time working father who did everything for the household.
He parented the way he was parented.
His love is evident in that he did everything for his children.

How is this a fail?
My husband isn’t a failure as a dad.
He love his children.
He takes good care of them.

He is responsible for them. Well, one of them anyway.
He bears all the responsibility for Thing G.
We talk often of transferring the responsibility from the father to the son.
I still haven’t figured out if it’s that YBW doesn’t know how, or if he doesn’t want to.
He talks about how he wants the kid to be educated or have a job and be able to ‘be in his own place’ and be responsible for his own life.
Simply put, the kid lacks the skills.
The kid lacks the skills because he’s still being told to comb his hair.
But not to mow the lawn.
Not to participate as a member of this household.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t know what that actually means.
Is is mixed messages?
Is it lack of effort on any or all parties?
Is it the never ending excuse of his diagnosis?
I legit don’t know.

What I do know is that there is an adult in this household that doesn’t participate in the day to day goings on.
Does it come down to expectations?
Does the kid meets the expectations presented to him…?
If this is what YBW expects from his son, and his son meets these expectations perfectly, then I am the one with misguided expectations.

At minimum, I expect adult members of a household carry their own weight. Ideally, to participate in the day to day operations to help things run smoothly.
I expect adults to know they’re supposed to comb their hair without being told.
I expect adults to know their responsibilities and to execute them without being told.
I expect adults to be respectful when they need to be reminded of their responsibilities.
There are thousands upon thousands of responsible non-neurotypical humans on this planet.
I’m past the point of being willing to teach.
It’s not my job.
I refuse to take on the responsibility of someone who won’t be responsible for himself.

There is nothing healthy about this situation.
Not for me.
Not for YBW.
Not for the kid.

I’m so tired, y’all.
Tired of living in a situation I didn’t create.
Tired of watching the toll it takes on the man I love.
Tired of watching the kid waste his life.
Tired of feeling helpless and hopeless in what’s supposed to be my home.

I worked so hard to accept what I can’t change. And I even went so far as planning to accept that change may never come.
There is a common expression, but I like Thing 2’s version,’Not my pig. Not my farm.’
It’s easy to say that.
Thing G is not my pig and this is not my farm. However, when I joined my life with YBW I willingly took some responsibility for that pig and this farm.
My question is when does the responsibility shift from the farmer to the pig?
Can I accept that day may never come?

At this stage of the game, these constant reminders to do things for which you’re responsible should not exist.
But that’s the thing, right?
He’s not actually responsible for anything.
Not unloading the dishwasher.
Not mowing the lawn.
Not even combing his own hair.
How can one be expected to be a responsible member of a household, or be responsible to create one’s own household if they’re not actually expected to be responsible?

Y’all I don’t know the answer to any of these questions.
I truly need to learn to stop asking.
It would take the pressure off my husband.
It would make my life so much simpler.
And if I’m not entirely comfortable in life, the least I can do is simplify it.