therobynbirdsnest

my (love) cup runneth over

Posted on September 25, 2017 by robynbird

Captain and Tennille said, “Love will keep us together.”
Ann and Nancy Wilson asked, “What about love?”
The King was ‘a hunk of burning love’.
Bendan Benson is ‘forever in search of the alternative to love’.
Landon Pigg spent some time ‘falling in love in a coffee shop’.
David Cassidy said, “I think I love you.”
Barry White ‘can’t get enough of your love, babe’.
Billy Idol ‘rocked the cradle of love’.
Grand Funk Railroad was ‘hooked on love’.
Cole Porter said, “Let’s do it. Let’s fall in love.”
Led Zeppelin had a ‘whole lotta love’.

And so on and so on…

But(!!!!!!!!!!)
What about the most important love?
The love of self.

Y’all, I’m here to tell you…ain’t nobody gonna be able to love you the way you can love yourself.
It starts deep within you and bubbles up until your cup runneth over.

I encourage all y’all to swim in that ocean of self love till your fingers get all pruney. Then let it spill over those you love. Beau’s right. It starts with you.
The Beatles said, “All you need is love.”
And they weren’t lying.

Categories: me | Tags: Beau Taplin, love, love songs, self love | 2 Comments

heal it

Posted on September 22, 2017 by robynbird

I’m in a strange place this morning. So many feels.
Feeling every feel with great acuity.
I find it overwhelming. But not in a bad way, exactly.

On Thing 2’s mix, there is a song called Heal It by a band called Dog is Dead. It’s hitting me hard this morning. I want to turn off her mix…but can’t bring myself to do it.

The chorus, “If you can’t break, then we can’t heal it.” feels particularly powerful. And I’m talking tear inducing powerful.
And I stop and ask myself aloud, “What is with you this morning?”
Because these tears seem to come from nowhere.
Only they come from everywhere.
Every single moment of my life when I couldn’t heal until I was fully broken comes rushing in.
Sometimes you must become absolutely powerless to gain the ability to move forward.
Feeling powerless is devastating. But feeling powerless to help those you love goes beyond that devastation. And when I think of being broken before being able to heal I consider moments or particular incidents in which the people I love most were breaking to the point of broken before the healing could begin.

I find it especially painful to know that I could not ease my own suffering or the suffering of those I love most during these breaking to broken times. The suffering eases when the healing begins. It’s the natural course of things.

This morning I’m feeling ‘rode hard and put up wet’. The weight of my short forty-six years feels like a long one hundred and forty-six years.
I feel all the moments I failed. As a daughter. As a wife. As a mother. As a human being.
But the most incredible thing about all these feelings, is that I also feel the ease of suffering that comes with healing. I feel the hope of what’s to come. I feel the triumphs and joys. I feel the pride and love of being a human being successful in life.

The tears are still welling up this morning. But I don’t ask myself about them. I accept them with love and grace and gratitude.

Here’s Dog is Dead with Heal It.
I’ve shared the lyrics below.
Please listen responsibly.

Come and meet me by the hotel
Yeah, you always lived a terrible life
And thorough the blisters and the heart swells
You always did whatever you liked
It’s a messy situation
No need to feel like you’re on the inside
And with a little conversation
What will take for us to talk for a while
It just takes a little time
When your body breaks on the inside
And we can’t heal it!
And we can’t heal it!
If you can’t break, then we can’t heal it
If you can’t break, then we can’t heal it
Come and see me like you always did
Come and see me when you’re dunking in time
And it’s a feeling that I know too well
Take a beating backing back in the fire
Merry-merry-round when the sun shine
Cause it only makes us sad when it’s burning their eyes
I won’t believe in…
I said won’t believe in ordeal sick in my mind
Which just takes a little time
When your money breaks on your side
And you can’t heal it, can’t heal it!
If you can’t break, then we can’t heal it
If you can’t break, then we can’t heal it
If you don’t feel right, never feel, never hide
Take a random chance, start another fight
And we froze so small, in your… see the world
Take another chance, make another…
..you die, and you don’t know why
Take another one, take another one!
When the men see the light
It’s a birthday light for another chance
Start another fight!
If you can’t break, then we can’t heal it
If you can’t break, then we can’t heal it

Categories: love, me, on being a mom | Tags: #gratefullife, feelings, grace, gratitude, healing, love, pain | 4 Comments

it’s cool boy, real cool

Posted on September 20, 2017 by robynbird

Thing 2’s mix Cool Boy, Real Cool arrived Monday. I’ve been listening to it nonstop.

I’m amazed at how autobiographical it truly is. I can hear her in every single song. And even though there are definite moments of “f**k you for that”, there is also a great deal of hope.
I find my daughter’s method of self expression fascinating.

I’m currently obsessed with this song.
Here’s Bukowski by Modest Mouse.
Please listen responsibly.

Categories: me | Tags: mixtape, Modest Mouse, music, Thing 2 | 2 Comments

while my behavior is (probably) unreasonable, my motivation is not

Posted on September 19, 2017 by robynbird

Things have been tricky with YBW lately.
Tricky may not be the best word to describe the situation, but it’s the word I’m purposely choosing, and that means I’m hopeful.
Here’s the thing, it might be mostly me. I’m completely wrapped around the axle about feeling overwhelmed by the fact we still have kids at home.
I am acutely aware that I’m overreacting to this.
I’m letting fear and anxiety drive the bus.
I’m smarter than that.
I’m more mindful than that.
I’m more capable than that.
Yet here I am. Shrieking and flailing and foaming at the mouth at the man I love.

I’ve worked myself into a state of chaos that I cannot seem to break from.

While my behavior is indubitably irrational and unreasonable, I stand behind the feelings behind them.
Now, those feelings are quite possibly a jumbled hot mess, but I feel them just the same.

What it ultimately feels like to me is that I sacrificed everything in my life to come here and have my life revolve around YBW’s children.
I’m not exaggerating.
Here, life is focused around the boys.
You may find it interesting to know that I understand why it was that way for so long. What I don’t understand is why it’s still that way.

Here’s what I know. My husband and I love each other. And we’re committed to each other and our relationship. And that gives me hope.

Hope is a powerful ally. One for which I am grateful. For without hope, I would feel that we made the biggest mistake of our lives. But because I have hope, I know we didn’t.
At the moment, what I need more than hope is an end date. I need practical reassurance that my hope is well founded. That there will come a time in the not-so-distant future that the life I am creating with my husband will revolve around our relationship and not his children.
He told me once that he didn’t want to be a step-parent to my girls. Well, first of all, this was hurtful to hear, and secondly, this was obvious as hell when my daughter came to live here. And more hurtful that I can even express.
Yet here I am, living my life for his children.

In my vision, we are a little solar system. (Interplanet Janet, much?)
And in that solar system, YBW and I are a planet. Our four children are nearby moons. Only, unlike a “real” solar system the moons and planet can occasionally occupy the same physical space and be together.
In my heart of hearts, I don’t consider that unreasonable.
What hurts me so much, is that it seems to me that YBW does.

I don’t want to “get rid” of his children. I want them to follow the natural course of development and fly the nest.
I think this goes back to what I was musing over parents developing at a different pace than their children. And while I acutely understand the pain of it. I don’t believe following the natural course of development is unreasonable.
I can want it to be the way it was when it was ‘we three girls against the world’, but that’s not the natural course and it’s not fair to them, or to me.
YBW never had to make the choice to accept the discomfort of those feelings. It was, and remains, these three boys against the world.
Only here I sit, ‘against the world’ adjacent.
Who’s against the world with me? Not a damn body.

Here’s what I’d like…YBW realizing I’m on his side. That I can be part of his against the world with his kids. BUT the time for that is waning, that soon they’ll be on their own, with us as back up.
I’d like to experience the shift from three boys as a unit, to YBW and me as a unit.

We’re parents. We will always have the backs of our children. There is no doubt of that. But there comes a time when having their backs is less active than it once was. That life is more focused on each other and our place in the world and we know that we’ve got our eyes on the moons that are near us.

In Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, Belle sang,

“I want adventure in the great wide somewhere.”

Well, I want that too. I want that with YBW.
Truth is, ain’t nobody adventuring while the focus is on an adult male that chooses not to launch, and a nearly grown male that chooses not to be invested in his own life.
Sad truth is that because they’re not choosing, they’re missing out.
That actually makes me feel worse.
I want more for them.
Unselfishly.

I see my girls struggle in their lives, but they’re out there trying.
Thing 1 and Husband N haven’t any money, but they have tenacity and they have love. They have a plan and they’re making it work.
Thing 2 is stuck physically, but has decided not to let that stop her from making the best life she can. She’s working within those constraints to get her life together and make something of herself.
I have their backs, helping them when they ask for it.
I suffer discomfort at their struggles.
But I see them making the choice to live their lives.

Contrary to opinion, I love YBW’s boys a great deal. I want them to choose their own lives! I want them to try! I want them to be successful humans in this world.
I want YBW to experience the pride and joy I feel when this happens for his children.

I don’t share these comparisons to point fingers. I share them because I know what it feels like to be on both sides of the coin.
Just because I didn’t give birth to his children, doesn’t mean I don’t love them. Doesn’t mean I don’t want the best possible lives for them.

Yes, I want to be a unit of two.
That’s what you’re meant to do with grown-ass kids.
The thing that kills me is that honestly don’t know if that’s what YBW truly wants.
And I don’t know how much longer I’m supposed to silently wait and see. All these thoughts and feelings I have can no longer be contained! In my trying to be kind, or respectful, and say nothing, I’ve created a toxic pit inside me. I much less successful at controlling it. I’m much less concerned about being kind to others than I am in being kind to myself.
I shouldn’t be silent when I’m unsatisfied.
Neither should I lose my shit completely.
It’s a delicate balance.
I’m not super successful at mastering it.

I refuse to believe that wanting what I want is unreasonable.
Though, I am aware that I am inclined to present it in a way that probably is.
I’m being mindful.
I’m working at it.

I’m tired of the same old conversation. Eight years later and I’m still wondering if he truly wants a life with just me.
Do I just need to get over myself?
I have no earthly idea.

Categories: me | Tags: blended families, empty nest, hard work, love, marriage, raising children, relationships | 4 Comments

Little D’s pumpkins

Posted on September 18, 2017 by robynbird

Little D came to spend the night Saturday!
He is currently obsessed with all things Halloween. I’ve decorated the house for fall, and he was actively trying to help me bring out the Halloween decorations too. After a long-winded explanation of the difference between meteorological fall and the autumnal equinox, and how Halloween stuff couldn’t come out till October, Little D was looking at me like, WTF? I just want to get out the jack-o-lanterns! YBW saved the day when he said, Remember, you can’t decorate for Halloween till after your dad’s birthday. (October 2)
Little D looked at YBW and nodded.
Dude was sad as hell looking.
So I told him he could come back over after his dad’s birthday and help me decorate for Halloween.

He decided he wanted to draw some pumpkin pictures, so we got out the crayons and paper.

This is a “kitty pumpkin” because it has a cat face. It’s also got wings so it’s a flying pumpkin.
I dunno, I’m just repeating what I was told.

I drew this one and then he embellished it with a brick wall and teeth and nose for the big pumpkin. He also mimicked the pinks and purples of the sky out the window. Then with great purpose added a crescent moon.

Here you see pumpkins and a witch’s broom sweeping fall leaves, also some ghosts saying “ooooo” cause “it’s scary like that”.

Next we decided to make scarecrows.

I’ll leave it up to y’all to decide which of us drew which one.

We watched Disney’s Robin Hood snuggled up on the sofa with a big bowl of popcorn before I read him a story and tucked him into bed.
Sunday morning we made bacon and had a little facetime chat with Thing 2. YBW got up and made the french toast and it wasn’t longer before Little D was on his way.
That kid. I love him so.
He said he’s going to be a bat for Halloween…but he’s worried about red eyes. He had a teeny little ramble about my daddy going to paint my eyes…I don’t want paint in my eyes…it hurts…then I have to wash my eyes…
He looked at me with a truly bewildered look on his face.
I reassured him that his daddy wouldn’t hurt his eyes, and he would be a great bat, even if he had his regular eyes instead of red ones.
He smiled with his entire being and wrapped his arms around my neck. “You are awesome!”

Yeah I am, Little D. And so are you!

Categories: me | Tags: art, autumn, coloring, crayola crayons, fall, fall is where its at, fun, Halloween, joy, love, pumpkins | 3 Comments

‘play(ing) it cool’ with music

Posted on September 17, 2017 by robynbird

I had an interesting conversation with Thing 2 Friday morning.
She shared with me that she’s working on a music mix.
(Like momma like daughter, right?)
She shared that she’s considering calling it ‘Play it Cool, Boy’ or ‘Cool, Boy, Real Cool’

Thing 2’s friend Anna is the one that nearly died wrecking Thing 2’s car. Thing 2 has been her primary caregiver and it’s finally taken it’s toll on her. The love is there, but I think she’s having a hard time locating it in the middle of all the conflicted feelings.
Conflicted feelings about her father are…well, ongoing…

I loved that she writes of easing herself. That’s a phrase we use a great deal.
She’s being mindful of how the music impacts her mood, while saying what she needs to say.

I received this pic via snapchat yesterday morning.

The sharing of music is a powerfully intimate expression of self. A mixtape is a mini time capsule. To listen to it is to transport you to the moment in which it was created. You put yourself in that moment and feel all those same feelings again. Thinking those same thoughts. Of course listening to it later on you pick out the flaws, you think oh, I could have done such and such instead…but that’s where you are now. The mix is the representation of where you were then. I believe that must be honored.

William Congreve wrote:

“Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.”

Dude knew what was up.

Categories: me | Tags: emotional health, mixtape, music, music that moves, time capsule, west side story, William Congreve | 2 Comments

Jackson Square ~ Mason Jennings

Posted on August 8, 2017 by robynbird

The first time I heard this song was in the quiet of a springtime afternoon via earbuds. I was consumed by it’s haunting beauty.
It’s gray here this morning and I feel this song fits the feel as I wait for the sun to break through the heavy clouds.

Please listen responsibly.

Categories: me | Tags: haunting beauty, Jackson Square, Mason Jennings, music, music that moves | 1 Comment

when porch life is work

Posted on August 7, 2017 by robynbird

Saturday was one of those rare gorgeous summer days. Sunny and breezy temperatures in the 80’s no humidity to speak of. Of course I took advantage of the beautiful weather by spending the day on the porch but not in the way you might think.
There was no lounging about. No day drinking. No journaling.
It was work work work!
Wanna see?

This reclaimed red oak needed a little love in the form of stain before it becomes our outdoor dining table.

Fence posts are the perfect choice for this bar height table’s legs. A coat of Sikkens is about to protect them even though they’re pressure treated.

Remember I said it was breezy? The plastic blew right over that last post…once I put down the camera, I was able to sort it and got quickly to work.

These “flaws” are what drew me to this piece of wood in the first place. I believe it makes them even more lovely.

Once I got everything finished and lined up to dry, I took a much needed break.

With a little “House Wine of the South” and my special birthday birthday Queen straws from Sundance.
But wait!
There’s something even more exciting!!
I realized that I could “have my cake and eat it too”!
I wanted to be outside in the breezy weather. But I also wanted to be in front of the TV watching the Nats game.
Oh my goodness!

To my surprise and delight, I realized I could sorta-kinda see the game and have porch life at the same time!

The table top wood was still drying Sunday afternoon, so we moved it into the house and set a fan on it. Everything else was already dry so it went back into the garage. It’s raining today, and supposedly tomorrow also, so there will be no actual construction for a few days.
I’ll keep y’all posted on the progress…right after I go shopping for chairs, and perhaps a sail cloth for shade over that part of the porch. Might need some pillows too…guess we’ll just have to see.

Categories: around the house | Tags: back porch, baseball, building, construction, house wine of the south, iced tea, porch life, reclaimed wood, red oak, Washington Nationals | 1 Comment

cardinal rules

Posted on August 5, 2017 by robynbird

I have a friend who’s second unbreakable life rule or, “Rule # 2” is that no one is permitted into his home.
I find this fascinating. No one in his home. Ever. (my suspicion is that emergency medical providers are the only exception)

I don’t know that I could ever have his second rule. Let us disregard for a moment the fact that I share a dwelling with YBW and his children (part time).
I need that energy that people bring…and I like to be in my own space. So, that would never work for me. I occasionally want to be around people while also remaining in my own physical space.
And that’s OK. I’m me, not him.

That got me thinking: I’m so me. Like, all the freaking time! And that me is an unholy mess of a girl, as well as put together AF.
I like that about me.
I embrace it, and I celebrate it.

It occurs to me that so many people don’t embrace and celebrate the “me” they are. Folks are so busy trying to be something they may not be because of any number of outside influences, societal rules, or even to impress a potential mate.
In trying to become something else, bits of the me get lost.
Some of those could be OK to lose, crap bits to bid a “good riddance” to. But some of those are important pieces. Invaluable and irreplaceable.
The me is the best and most important piece of the puzzle. Even if you haven’t completely figured out your me.
I learn about the me I am every day.
I learn stuff I love, and want to keep, I learn stuff I feel ambivalent about but realize may have value. I learn stuff I know I can chuck in the bin because it’s bad for me and anyone I come in contact with. But even the chuck it in the bin stuff can be embraced, because I learned something from it. At the very least, I learned I didn’t need it…at most, I may have even learned why.

Some folks are so concerned with improvement they don’t stop first to examine what’s there that might be handy. They just dump it and begin searching for new stuff to fill the void.
That will never get anybody anywhere!
If folks are externally motivated, they’re never going to experience the all-important A-ha! moments. Never experience the all-important I did it! moments.
I believe you lose the most important aspect of the me when you’re externally motivated. When you need to be filled up by other people, or things. It doesn’t seem to me that you’re even aware of the me inside you, much less embracing and celebrating it. That makes me so sad. I cannot stress enough how much that (those) someones are missing out!

Embrace and celebrate what you have within you. Learn it and learn from it.
Accept and release some of it. Accept and embrace other of it.
But, above all, celebrate the “me” inside you.

I’m me.
I’m a hot mess and a tight ship. And that is the way I like it. I’m so over trying to be what external influences expect me to be.
I’m just the me I expect me to be.
I’m amazing and wonderful because I’m flawed.
Each lesson I’ve learned, the good, the bad, the indifferent have made and continue to make me this wonderfully flawed woman.

I think that’s the most important of my Cardinal Rules.
If I decided to create unbreakable rules for my life they might look like this.

1. Embrace and celebrate the me I am.
2. Live my intention.
3.

(yeah, I sort of borrowed that one, but I feel it keenly)
4. Communicate with honesty.
5. Know my limits.

That’s just off the top of my head…I might mix it up a little, I might keep it the way it is. But, over all, that’s how I intended to live my life.
Cardinal Rules.
It occurs to me that I already lived them, just never stopped to write them down.

Categories: me | Tags: cardinal rules, celebrate, have courage and be kind, honest communication, intention, life, life lessons, living my intention, love, words to live by | 2 Comments

my girls

Posted on July 31, 2017 by robynbird

After being here with me for nine days, Thing 1 left Thursday to return home to her sweet husband, N.
I woke Friday to an empty house.
Normally I’d love that, but after Thing 1 being here, I didn’t. I was sad. No, not really sad, more disappointed. Kind of empty feeling.
But it was fleeting.
I got to work. Only I was missing someone to talk with. Even missing her crazy habit of following me everywhere.
I’m feeling that nagging sense of missing out. I know they’re meant to grow up and leave home and all that jazz. But I’m selfish! I want to spend more time together.

The way I’m feeling reminds me of that Abba song Slipping Through My Fingers.

That’s what it feels like to have grown girls.
I miss them in ways that cause me physical pain.

I get my hackles all up and think, I shouldn’t have to miss them. Only that would be impinging their natural development. But it’s funny, it seems to me that in my natural development, they should still be mine and not yet their own.
Children grow at their own pace. Parents are left in the dust.
Logically, I get that. I understand that I did my job. That I gave them the best foundation I could and now it’s up to them to build upon it.
Emotionally, I want to still be active in their lives, I want to listen to troubles and joys and giggles and have great snuggle-fests in my bed.
Parents should evolve at the same rate their children do. That they don’t doesn’t seem quite equitable.
Alas, it was always thus. (or was it?)

Thing 1 is an amazing woman. I don’t say this because she’s my daughter. I am truly awestruck by her. She is smart and funny. She is more strong and capable than she actually realizes. She speaks of not feeling “adulty” enough and looking around for someone more “adulty” than her. But she’s got this. She’s absolutely “adulty” enough to successfully live her own life. And really, what more could a mom want for her child?
We had such wonderful conversations, some seriously examining our relationship and life, some just plain silly. We talked about raising children and healthy relationships. We talked about baseball. (She’s a convert! She decided to love baseball after her first trip to Nats Park!) Oh happy day!
Spending that time with my firstborn was precious to me. No, more than precious. Our time together was sacred.
At one point in our lives I wondered if we’d ever truly be a part of each other again. Yet, here we are.

At the ballpark, the couple behind us told us that we were a “precious family”. That we were “so blessed” and it was obvious that Thing 1 was “adored”.
That moved me so. I’m not sure Thing 1 believes she is adored. I hope she learns to remember that more each and every day.

Before Thing 1 came here, Thing 2 and her boyfriend J spent two weeks with Thing 1 and Husband N.
One thing that makes me happy is that the girls being together seems to have been especially good for Thing 2. Though, it was really good for Thing 1 too. And I enjoyed listening to her talk of their time together while she was here.
Thing 2 is dating a guy that Thing 1 absolutely adores! That’s a big deal for Thing 1. Those external relationships must function successfully within their internal sisterhood.
She’s said that if Thing 2 hadn’t liked Husband N, she never would have married him. She expressed that she’s closest to Thing 2 over anyone else in the world, and that is her most valued relationship. I know not with certainty if Thing 2 feels the same, but I sure hope she does.
It seems the time they spent together was healthy and positive for both of them.

Thing 2 is becoming so much more aware of herself. I love that for her!
She is a tricky sort of girl…filled with acute self-awareness, yet seemingly unable to put it into action. This causes her much trouble. To know, yet be unable to do much about it is a tricky place to be.
But, I think she’s making some positive changes for herself. I also believe the time with her sister was beneficial to reinforce that.

We had an interesting text conversation late last week.

Thing 2’s friend Anna was critically injured in a car accident last summer, in all honesty, we’re lucky that she’s still with us. She just had a follow-up surgery to assist in the healing of one of her legs that’s a bit shorter than the other from the accident.
Anna lives with Thing 2 at her father’s house. Thing 2 has been her primary care giver since the accident. It took a toll on their friendship, but it seems as though they’ve been able to come out the other side stronger.

This one came immediately after the first one, before I even had a chance to respond.

“I was full of shit.” Yes, my darling, you were. But, owning it is the first step to changing it.
I told her that communication is difficult, but becomes simpler with practice.
She wondered if it was “shitty to say I’m proud of me?”
I assured her it was not, that she should be proud of her accomplishments.
Then I told her ‘life = perpetually learning more about yourself’.

Y’all, I’m forty six years old and I do that every single day! My twenty year old daughter is wondering if she should be proud of learning more about her self.
Um, YES PLEASE!

Being a mom is the most gut-wrenchingly painful experience of my life.
Being a mom is the most joy-filled, awe-inspiring, rewarding experience of my life.
It’s no wonder I feel like I didn’t evolve at the same rate as my girls. How could I possibly?

I find it hard not to focus on “missing out” when they continue to become such unbelievably cool human women! But, I have their lifetime of love and joy and being together deep within me. It sustains my sadness at being apart from them. It keeps me from missing them more than I can bear.
But we’re lucky enough to have a love that is unshakable. We’re lucky enough to be able to call each other out on her shit. We’re lucky enough to carry on real conversations about important issues with love and compassion, and even a bit of understanding.
Communication. Who knew?

This is what Husband N had to say in response to me thanking him for helping celebrate Thing 2’s birthday. But more importantly, expressing to him how much it means to me that he loves both my girls.