therobynbirdsnest

It’s a date!

Posted on September 21, 2015 by robynbird

At our last pre-wedding meeting, A charged us to go on a date.
YBW and I side-eyed each other.

Pfft! We know how to go on a date.

Needless to say, she noticed our conceit and challenged us further. Instead of one date, we each had to come up with a date for the other with the strict stipulation that we couldn’t discuss wedding stuff.
One more smug look was a silent “we got this” and we were on our way.

The date I planned took us downtown for a picnic at the National Arboretum and a side trip to Oak Hill Cemetery. I broke the rule straight away in the car. YBW reminded me and I sat on my hands as long as I could stand it. But then I had a stroke of genus! Traveling to the date wasn’t actually being on the date. I immediately amended the rule to include wedding talk in the car but only until we arrived at our destination. (I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s Robynbird logic…just roll with it.)
Of course this time of year there isn’t much in bloom at the Arboretum, but that was actually beneficial because it meant less people.
The first thing we did on our date was split up. (I know…) But YBW wanted to see all the bonsai and I wanted to visit the herb garden.
I was fortunate to catch a few things still in bloom while successfully avoiding the bees gleaning the last little bit yummies before there were no more blossoms to be had.

The light was harsh, but I enjoyed my time behind the lens.

It may seem odd that the first thing YBW and I did on our date was walk in opposite directions, but neither of us wanted to follow the other around like a puppy so we did what we wanted to do knowing we’d end up in the same place. And as it turned out, just as I was finishing up in the herb garden, the most adorable man walked up and kissed me. Then we walked together up the hill to see the Capital columns.

Kinda pretty, don’tcha think?

We picnicked on fruit, veggies, potato salad, and cold fried chicken trying to figure out what was actually going on at the Grove of State Trees. We drove all around the arboretum, even out the non-existent road that was the original entrance.
Then it took forty minutes to drive about six miles. As we passed embassies I used the long lens of my camera to read the plaques over the doors and YBW teased that the red light cameras saw and we would be branded spies. I just laughed.
We got to Oak Hill Cemetery just in time to capitalize on the most glorious afternoon light.

Once again, we split up. Me meandering along looking for good shots on the way to Kay Graham’s gravesite. YBW playing Ingress…turns our cemeteries are ripe with portals for the hacking.

Allow me to quote Minerva from Midnight in the Garden, “To understand the living, you got to commune with the dead.” I’m a firm believer in this concept.
I love cemeteries. I love everything about them. The gravestones seem so natural in the environment, on the hillsides and under trees. I love the peaceful quiet. There was construction on R Street, and I mean jackhammer construction, but the further I walked into the cemetery the more quiet it became.

There was one place in the cemetery that wasn’t still. It was quiet, but there was work going on. I can’t believe it took me passing it twice before I realized what I was seeing.
Construction on the mausoleum of Ben Bradlee, one of my most beloved folk heroes! Qu’il repose en paix.

It’s a bit modern for my taste and for it’s location, but I wasn’t consulted…what are you gonna do?

YBW and I ended our day at a cafe table on the patio of a small restaurant in Old Town sipping cocktails of vodka laced iced tea.
Never once talking about the wedding.

Categories: love, me, wedding | Tags: bees, Ben Bradlee, cemeteries, date, flowers, fun, gravesite, gravestones, grove, iced tea, Ingress, Katharine Graham, love, National Arboretum, Oak Hill Cemetery, photography, photos, side eye, smug, to understand the living you got to commune with the dead, vodka, Washington DC, wedding, YBW | 1 Comment

celeb crushes

Posted on September 16, 2015 by robynbird

We all have them.
However unrealistic they may be, there is that one guy or girl that just rings your bell.
I’ve always been partial to light haired, light eyed guys. Built sturdy, but not beefy. I prefer them kind of lanky…almost feline.

When I was a very small girl, my celeb crush was Shaun Cassidy. I loved that Joe Hardy something fierce. I even had a poster of him in my room.

I was not yet in second grade. It was the late 1970s and I thought I knew what was up even then.

When I was a little older it was John Schneider. It was the 1980s and Friday night meant the Dukes of Hazzard! I remember lying on the floor in the living room propped up on pillows watching the Duke boys outwit Roscoe P. Coltrane week after week. He had the most adorable smile AND he was good at archery!

In the 1990s there was a new “blondie” for me to crush on. Not a natural blonde…but that doesn’t really matter.

Oh Spike. My all time favorite vampire baddy.
And he was punk to boot! (As Buffy assures the bouncer, “Billy Idol actually stole the look from him.”)

Now I’m all grown up, so is my celeb crush.

I cant’ even. That thing he does with his lower lip when he’s playing vulnerable. Gah! It gets me every time!
Would I leave YBW if Daniel Craig came knocking?
…no…

I obviously have a type. (What? I’m as much predictable as I am enigma.)
But what’s kind of interesting about my crushes is that I’ve ended up with a real guy who resembles this collection of celebrities.
Light hair. (Well it’s gotten darker as he’s become an adult, but he started out very blonde indeed.)
Blue eyes.
Tall.
Built kind of lanky. (Well, like me he’s porked up a teeny bit in the last few years…I hear that’s what happens when you’re happy.)

When I asked YBW who his number one celeb crush is this is who he told me:

Just so you know, Zooey Deschanel and I look absolutely NOTHING alike.
I’m much more Bette Midler in the 1970s. All nose and teeth and frizzy red hair. (But not that much make up.)

(I swear it’s true.)

I’ll get to see my Daniel Craig revise his role as James Bond after we come home from our honeymoon. YBW can watch his Zooey Deschanel play that quirkiest of girls, Jessica Day on New Girl starting again sometime this fall.
We’ll crush on them like crazy.

But I have a real boy to crush on. And he crushes on me. So much so that we’ve decided to get hitched.
I don’t need a poster on my wall. I have the real thing right next to me.
(Yeah, I know…it’s nauseating. I just roll with it.)

Categories: me | Tags: 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, Bette Midler, billy idol, Bo Duke, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, celeb crushes, celebrities, Daniel Craig, Divine Miss M, fun, James Bond, James Marsters, Jessica Day, Joe Hardy, John Schneider, love, New Girl, punk, Shaun Cassidy, silly, Spike, Sunnydale, YBW, Zooey Deschanel | 1 Comment

porch life

Posted on September 15, 2015 by robynbird

With the beautiful weather we’ve been experiencing YBW and I decided to spend a little time outside yesterday afternoon. We debated heading over to one of the local wineries but I was in yoga pants and a Nats tee and didn’t really feel like changing to go out. So we decided create that winery experience at home on our lovely but sadly under-utilized porch. We ran to the grocery store for yummies and goodies to make a small charcuterie board.

We sat out there for quite some time. Talking, laughing, nibbling, and drinking wine.
I officially decided that prosciutto must have been the food of the Gods.
We talked wedding practicalities.
We talked about ourselves and each other.

Oftentimes we’re bogged down in the day to day runnings of our life. But last evening, we just were. We were authentic and immediate and we were completely engaged.
I liked it.
He liked it too.

He’s home with me for the next three days. We talked about taking a mini-break to the beach, but it didn’t really go anywhere. So we’re going to stay home. Tomorrow we’re going to an exhibit at the National Geographic Museum. And on Thursday we’ll go to the Arboretum.
That’s our plan, tentatively…

It’s warmer today, but I may suggest a repeat.
I love when we’re together and able to just be.

Categories: love | Tags: authentic, autumn, charcuterie board, engaged, fall, immediate, love, lovely weather, porch, porch life, prosciutto, YBW, yummies and goodies | 3 Comments

observe. accept. love.

Posted on September 14, 2015 by robynbird

Some you may know of the app facebook has that shares memories. It’s called “On This Day” and it shows things you’ve posted on that day in previous years.
I don’t check this all the days, I just happened to do it this morning because of something someone else posted that involved me.

Here’s a post from this day two years ago:

While we were at Great Falls today, I saw this little girl jumping from rock to rock singing, “I am awesome!” (The tune was precious.) Her mom just watched…she didn’t say anything and the little girl didn’t do anything but jump and sing about how awesome she is.
This is why we shouldn’t be saying, “Good job!” Or sometimes not even, “You did it!”
She didn’t need anything from anybody. She knows intrinsically that she is enough…I want to be this little girl please.

Seeing this post stimulated the memory of how moved I was in the moment watching this little girl. She didn’t need anything from anyone. Her mother stood nearby watching, but said nothing. Not “that’s not safe”. Not “way to go”. She said nothing. She observed. She accepted.

My years of early childhood training have given me a different way of looking at the world. At children in the world. The need to have freedom to take risks. They learn through play. They learn through risk taking. They don’t need to be praised every forty-seven seconds. They don’t need a trophy for participating.
They need to feel safe. Safe to explore. Safe to try. Safe to play. Safe to learn. Safe to experience that all-important “I did it!” moment of accomplishment.
It’s obvious to me that this little girl felt safe.
It’s obvious to me that her mother felt safe.
She let that child (who was not yet school-age) take risks by jumping on those rocks. Her mother knew she could fall and get hurt. And that wouldn’t have been fun for anybody, but the little girl would have learned from that. She would have known how to have sturdier feet the next time. She would have jumped more solidly.
That little girl’s mother said nothing while she sang and jumped from rock to rock and back again. But even more interesting to me is that the child never said, “Watch me!” She was completely focused on her task, jumping from rock to rock and singing: I am awesome! It didn’t matter to her if her mom was watching. It didn’t matter to her that she was or was not praised. She was working hard and she was having a blast doing it!

“Watch me, Miss Robynbird!” I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that from a child in the last two years.
I cringe every single time one of them says it.
I have said: You can do it. You don’t need me to watch you.
At first they didn’t understand, I could see the deflation happen in their little bodies. But over time, they began to understand that I trusted them and I made the environment safe enough that they could try anything. They began to ask their peers to watch, this created opportunities to build their cooperation skills. Created opportunities for them to mentor each other.
I feel good about that.
I’ve said: You did it! more times than I should have. But never will you hear me say: Good job! I might say: Well done you! Give me five.

YBW and I had a conversation about praise. He believes everyone wants to hear it. I couldn’t agree more. But my point to him was praise causes people to look outside themselves for validation. They’re not motivated my curiosity or desire to try/play/learn. They’re motivated by and for someone else.
Of course we all want an “attagirl” once in a while. Working hard and not getting recognized sometimes feels icky. But praise is a double edged sword. The other side of praise is criticism. I grew up with enough criticism for three kids and precious little praise. In all honesty, I’d trade praise and it’s ugly twin to feel safe enough to try without anyone’s opinion.
When I work hard and finish a job well done I feel that sense of accomplishment. I experience my own “I did it!” moment.
Would it be nice to hear praise?
Absolutely!
Do I need that praise?
Not really.

We’ve created a new generation of kids that thrive on praise. That are motivated by praise, by participation trophies. That graduate from high school only so the principal has numbers that grow.
What if we took a giant step back and took a page from the mom’s book?
What if we observe?
What if we accept?
What if we love?

I want to be that little girl. I want to be enough for myself like she is.
I want that for all of us.

Categories: education, love, me, on being a mom | Tags: accept, adventure, attagirl, blessings, early childhood education, excitement, experience, family, feeling safe, freedom to take risks, good job, hard work, joy, learning through play, love, mothers and daughters, motivated by praise, motivation, observe, parenting, participation trophy, personal motivation, recognition, risk taking, safe, sense of accomplishment, trust, watch me, well done, YBW, you did it | 2 Comments

changing of the (sports) seasons

Posted on September 13, 2015 by robynbird

Without doubt, Autumn is my absolute favorite time of year.
Thing 2 calls me “basic” because I love to wear sweaters and boots and jeans. She says my saving grace is that I don’t drink Starbucks.
I’m not “basic”. I’m just me.

For me fall is cool crisp air and being able to be outside without wanting to die. It is jeans and boots and sweaters. It’s driving with the windows down and being able to breathe without gasping.

Fall brings in the end of the beloved baseball season.
I feel rather sad about that because my Washington Nationals won’t be looking towards October without a miracle. Which is just going to have to be OK this season. Everyone on and off the DL, a bullpen that’s somehow lost it’s way. I love my team no matter what, but it just seems a shame they couldn’t get it together.

I know all sports seasons overlap. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.
It really does irritate me that the ‘boys of summer’ can’t get off their diamond before the guys in shoulder pads and helmets take the gridiron.
I do not like American football. And it’s not just because I’m a girl, I know plenty of girls who live and die for football. I’m a Southern girl, but football isn’t my religion.

Thing C is a total football fanboy. His favorite team has fans that wear cheese on their heads. But it’s not just Packers games that he’s interested in. He follows all the teams, watches all the games.
He knows I am this meme.

So we negotiate television time during the fall and winter.

I don’t begrudge those who love the sport. I just choose to abstain. I honestly derive no joy from watching it. I’ve never seen people shout at their TVs more than during football season. And that’s saying a lot because I always holler at the baseball players.

It’s a matter of taste. What you like.
I like a spring and summer game that ends in October.
I like the weather Autumn brings.
I like to wear sweaters.
I like to play in the leaves.
I like scarecrows and pumpkin patches.

Autumn and I’ve come to a sort of agreement:
I leave football to the ones who love it. Who eat, sleep and breathe it.
I’ll eat chicken pot pie, sleep with the windows open, and breathe the cool crisp air.
And everybody’s happy.
Except the Nats.
It’s OK, boys, April is only seven months away.

Categories: me | Tags: autumn, baseball, baseball season, basic, boots, chicken pot pie, fall, football, football season, Green Bay Packers, jeans, pumpkin patch, sports, Starbucks, sweaters, Washington Nationals, weather | 7 Comments

miscommunication is a bite in the ass

Posted on September 12, 2015 by robynbird

YBW came home Thursday ready to talk about the weirdness.
I felt better prepared because I’d written about it. He was ready to talk because he read what I wrote.
As it turns out, there was gross misunderstanding. (I can’t even feign surprise.)
He thought I was angry. He thought I was quite fed up with his YBW “shenanigans” so he was putting forth great effort to change his behavior. He also was feeling a great deal of fear after being hurt physically by me. It stirred up residual feelings from living with his second ex-wife.

I was horrified that he felt fearful of me. The only way I know to fix that is not to punch him in the arm anymore. This will be hard for me…it’s my “go to”. I don’t mean to hurt, it’s just a thing that started from having a brother and cousin and then the former husband as a way to make a point. Never hard enough to really hurt, but enough to get their attention and shift their behavior.
Is it a positive or healthy move? Of course not, but it’s what worked.
When I punched YBW in the arm, he was closer to me than I realized and the contact came swifter and with more force than I’d anticipated. He was actually hurt. But I’m realizing that he thought I was angry and hurt him out of anger. And that triggered his hot button of fear.

After we talked about the “kitchen incident”. I explained that I had no anger, that I was just messing around. Both Thing C and Thing 2 were in the kitchen with us, it was nothing more than us being silly about language and I never felt anything but playful.
The fact he thought I was angry and that it was my motivation to hurt him nearly broke my heart. That’s when my tears started. I honestly don’t think he believes me. That will have to come in time.

It turns out that when I was expressing that I noticed an imbalance in our being “handsy” with each other he thought it had to do with the kitchen incident and was under the impression that I was completely fed up with him being goofy.
He was trying to change to make me less frustrated.
It seems to me that he thinks I believe that he’s stupid, ridiculous, annoying, etc. I think he’s playful. Does that become tiresome occasionally? Of course it does. But I am self aware enough to know that I become tiresome occasionally too.

I told him that I liked him for who he really is. That if I’d been with him these six years it was because I liked his personality and for him to suddenly not be him was no way to “fix” anything.
He told me it would take a bit for him to relax enough to be himself and asked for me to be patient.
I told him that I would do my best not to rely on the arm punch.

Yesterday, things felt closer to normal. We went to this Salvadorian joint and had an early dinner yesterday, we came home and watched the Nats lose to the Marlins. We communicated realistically both verbally and physically. (And my bottom got patted while I brushed my teeth.)

Here’s my biggest thing:
I don’t know how to help him hear what I’m actually saying versus what he thinks he hears.
I don’t know how to trust that he’s not going to manipulate me if I make myself vulnerable to him.
Not because we’ve experienced either of these with the other. These are old patterns. Hurt caused by other people who came before each other in our lives.

I made a specific decision to trust him the first moment we were in the same physical space after months of dating over the phone and via email. In that moment I chose to be fearless. I have not regretted it in six years.
I know he’s not passive aggressive.
I know he’s not manipulative.
I know he’s not trying to undermine every forward step I take.
I trust that.
But I spent seventeen years walking on eggshells waiting to make the wrong move and suffer the emotional repercussions of that.
Waiting for “the other shoe to drop” is a pattern I work every day to break.

I am safe in this relationship. I know it like I know my own name.
I believe that YBW feels safe in this relationship. He’s trying to break his patterns too.
He’s been told he’s “less than” for so long he probably doesn’t even hear my words when I talk about his character and his kindness. He’s beautiful inside and out. That is his true self. He doesn’t know that. He doesn’t believe that.
I can’t change that for him, but I can keep expressing it in the hopes that one day he hears my words and not the words left over from his past.

I’m still not sleeping through the night. But I am sleeping in the bed we share and I’m not struggling to lie next to him.
It’s progress.
There is a great deal of love in our lives. I love YBW like I’ve never loved another man. I didn’t know I could love someone who didn’t come out of my body with this kind of unconditional love. I waited my entire life to find him. He has no idea that he elicits that kind of love just by being himself.
All that love doesn’t erase the past. But I hope that it can heal it. I hope it can create a new kind of relationship upon which to build the rest of our lives.

I’ve been told I’m more stubborn than a mule. (Thanks, Mommie.)
This statement is true, however unkind it may have sounded hearing it my whole life. Therefore I will use that stubbornness as I continue to chip away at old patterns in both of us. Eventually I’ll get there. And I will stop feeling like I need to wait for the other shoe to drop. And he will start hearing what he truly is and perhaps even begin to believe it.
And I’m hopeful we’ll continue to love and be loved the way we do. Playfully and earnestly. Only it will be better because we will use our past lives as foundation upon which to build this new way of being.

Categories: love, me, peace and wellbeing | Tags: anger, bite in the ass, earnestly, feeling safe, foundation, healthy, hopeful, hurt, love, miscommunication, new way of being, old patterns, pain, playful, positive, relationship, safe, snuggles, stubborn, stubborn as a mule, true self, truth, unconditional love, walking on eggshells, weird, weirdness, YBW | 2 Comments

What are we doing?

Posted on September 10, 2015 by robynbird

My heart is heavy today.
Partly it’s because Thing 2 left yesterday.
Her being here brought me much anticipated joy! We did all the goofy things we wanted to do. We almost snuggled enough. We had good heart to heart talks that included tears and laughter. I’m glad she was here. I’m glad she went home to her friends, I know she was missing them. She’ll be back in a month and we’ll do it all over again!

Partly my heart is heavy because things feel weird with YBW.
We were being goofy in the kitchen a few nights ago and he thought I was hitting him with the dish towel so he leaned over and licked me from chin to hairline. A big, spitty-cow-tongue kind of lick. So after I wiped off my face and got the saliva out of my ear, I punched his upper arm.
When we went up to bed I was being silly and he didn’t want any part of it. That’s when he told me I had really hurt him.
He did everything he was supposed to do. He told me he didn’t like that I hurt him, and please not to ever hit him that hard again.
Then he fell asleep.

I haven’t slept in the same bed with him since that night.

The next morning I brought up the situation. I wanted to clear the air, make sure we could talk about it and understand each other’s points of view.
I apologized for hurting him.
It was clear that I punched him with intent. But I had no intent to hurt him. I think it was just one of those punches that lands much differently than anticipated.

We talked about what it means to be physical in non-sexual ways.
YBW tends to be very “handsy”. He is quick to touch or tweak various parts of me as we pass by one another. He’s quick to pet my hair or cradle my face in the palm of his hand. I quite love this about him. That small, silly physical demonstration of his affection for me.
Yes, sometimes it becomes difficult. There are times I’d rather he not randomly tickle me or grab my bottom as he follows me up the stairs.
In this conversation, I expressed my displeasure that it’s a one-way street. If I try to be playful and tweak at him he doesn’t like it. Now this is mostly because he’s extremely ticklish and most times it feels less tweakish and more ticklish to him.
But sometimes it doesn’t seem quite fair to me.

This conversation was…tricky. I knew bringing it up would create a scenario in which neither of us would want to touch the other for fear of crossing this imaginary line. I actually said as much.
We’re still working on hearing what the other says and not falling into old patterns of hearing what’s been said to us in our previous lives. I didn’t want to bring it up because I knew what would happen. But while we were near the subject, I needed to say what I was thinking.
That’s what grown ups do. They talk about ‘all the things’.

So, where that left us is days of no physical contact. Precious little eye contact. And me not being able to sleep next to him.
I’m just so uncomfortable around him. I don’t know if he’s uncomfortable around me or not.

Last night I was brushing my teeth and he was in and out of the bathroom. Normally he would run his hand across my bottom every time he passes me, but not last night.
He was already in bed when I got there.
I said: I’m going to try and stay in here all night.
He asked why I was leaving. I told him I just couldn’t sleep. Which is true. I lie there and simply cannot sleep so I get up and got into the other room. I don’t sleep much better in there, but I don’t feel quite as anxious as I do lying next to him.
He asked: Am I doing something to keep you from sleeping?
No.
Then I told him I kept waiting for him to touch my butt while I was brushing my teeth. I told him I didn’t like where we were. I pointed out that I asked if I could lean on him while we were sitting on the couch early in the day.
He replied that he still didn’t know when or how he could touch me but assured me I could touch him.

Two nights in a row I curled up behind his sleeping body, my face pressed against his back. Just breathing his scent trying to feel connected to him. Then got up and left the room.

I don’t know if Thing 2 being here inhibited us being connected, I was focusing most of my time and attention on her. The boys are here too, I don’t know if that inhibits us from being connected, YBW is focused on Thing G.
I’m not sure it’s as much them as it is us.

I honestly believe something shifted the night I punched him.
That however playful my intentions were, it landed in a very real way.
I don’t think he wants to really talk to me. I don’t think he really wants to have any sort of physical contact with me.

It’s hard to have an intimate conversation when there are kids in the house, but I’m going to try again to bring it up when he comes home today. We may have to wait till Friday when the boys go back to their mom.
I believe he’s struggling with this too. I don’t think it’s all in my head. But I’m going to have to take the initiative, because I can’t sit with it much longer.

One good thing about Thing 2 leaving is that I can go downstairs and sleep in my cocoon instead of the upstairs guest bed. At least that will be more comfy until we can figure out what the hell we’re doing.

Categories: love, me, peace and wellbeing | Tags: acceptance, accountability, anxiety, anxious, difficult to communicate, disconnected, feelings, grown up, hurt, immediacy, intent, intention, intimate conversation, point of view, reactionary, sleep, togetherness, tricky, uncomfortable, what are we doing, YBW | Leave a comment

ephphatha

Posted on September 6, 2015 by robynbird

At church this morning the Gospel reading was from Mark. (7:24-37)
I’m fascinated that Mark talks about how Jesus was uppity. Pretty much telling that Syrophoenician woman she was a dog. He was completely ‘judgey’ and not remotely loving. But just a moment later Mark tells us about the deaf man. Jesus healed him by saying the Aramaic work “ephphatha” which translates to “be opened”.

Now we know that Jesus “opened” the man’s ears so he could hear. But I find myself wondering if he wasn’t also talking to himself in that moment. Perhaps he needed to be reminded to be open to all the folks he came across and not be so uppity. Perhaps not…perhaps he was really just spitting on that man and removing his life-long deaf- and muteness.
I’m obviously not a theologian. (Uh…yeah, I called Jesus ‘uppity’.) I’m not going to try and deconstruct this Gospel reading. (Anymore than I already have.) I don’t presume to know enough about the bible to create an intelligent dialogue about the ins and outs.
But I will tell you that I was particularly moved by Mark 7:34.

Be opened.
I’ve been feeling that rather intensely of late. The need to be open. I want to be open to all things. I mean truly open, not just my mind, but also my heart. The universe puts so many things in my path each and every day. If I am open to the people and things and opportunities amazing things could happen!
I must not be uppity.
I must not be negative.
I must have my heart wide open and ready to receive what ever comes to me.
Being open takes patience. I’m not filled to overflowing when it comes to patience, but I’m practicing. I’m practicing really hard. I’m learning to let go of what’s beyond my control. To accept not judge. To know my limits. All of these skills (of which I have precious little) became paramount when my brain got sick. But that diagnosis was a blessing because I’m actively practicing all these things. And they are helping me figure out how to better be open.
I’m not in control of what comes at me but I can absolutely control what I choose to receive. If I choose to be open what I receive will make all the difference in the world.
Ephphatha ~ Be opened.
Wouldn’t the world be so much lovelier if we all were?

Categories: me | Tags: accept, be opened, ephphatha, Gospel, heart wide open, Jesus, love, Mark 7:34, open your heart, ready to receive, receive, theology, uppity | 5 Comments

mothers and daughters: tricky, curious beasts

Posted on September 4, 2015 by robynbird

Being the mom of daughters is tricky.
I’m sure being the mom of sons is not without tricks. But I honestly think daughters might be a bit trickier. At least once they hit a certain age.

Thing 2 is having some issues with her hair after we went and had it done on Wednesday.
It was tri-colored, pink, purple and blue and mostly dead from the over processing. She wanted to save length to grow it into her “hair goal”

but there was a great deal of damage. While some length was saved, she has what she bitterly referred to as “mom hair”. She’s not wrong.

Knowing how dissatisfied Thing 2 is with her hair, Sundance suggested she figure out a cute short cut that will satisfy her as well as get rid of all the damage and give her a starting point for growing into her longer “hair goal”.
Thing 2 knows her Auntie is right, but doesn’t know what she wants to do with her hair.
Frustrated tears.

Pinterest to the rescue! After literally hours of searching, she’s found something she really likes!

Instead of doing her normal thing of over-analyzing the living hell out of it, she made a gut decision. This is HUGE for her!
Like her mother, (So sorry about that, Mousk.) she has the ability to get so trapped in her head when making a decision…and not just the ability to do so, but the crippling reality of it. Unlike her mother, (Who has twenty-six more years life experience.) she has not yet learned to listen to and trust her gut. The fact that she trusted her gut and then said: Give me a minute to think about my gut decision. made us both laugh.

For those of you who don’t know, hair really is a big deal. Part of Thing 2’s issues with hair is that from the time she could form an opinion, she wanted to have red hair like me. The fact that her hair is brown (A beautiful, warm and rich brown.) is something she just has trouble accepting.
I wanted to be blonde when I was teenager.

So I am acutely aware that the hair struggle is real.

All of this brings me back to my opening sentence.
Being the mom of daughters is tricky.
It’s tricky because you have to have just the right bit of understanding mixed with a splash enough of indifference to keep you sane. I care deeply that my daughter is content but I don’t care quite as much what her hair looks like. Does her hair make her happy? If so, then I am happy for her. Do I want to like her new do? Sure! But it’s not going to cause me frustrated tears if I don’t.
My tears of frustration are caused by other choices for her life…school, employment, life-long well being. You know, the stuff that moms really care most about.
I care about her hair. I want it to be adorable. To match her personality. To look beautiful in my upcoming wedding photos.
What I care most about is her emotional well being. And I know deep in my soul that bad hair can make you feel miserable and dissatisfied. Thing 2 has had enough of that. So if new, good, and ‘gut decided’ hair will make it better for the time being, I’m on it.

I’m both a mother and a daughter. I know how it feels to be each one individually. I want my daughters to know that nothing and no one is more important in my heart than they are. That every single decision I’ve made has had their best interests at heart.
I want to remember that though my own mother was fraught with her own special…idiosyncrasies may be the best word here, I know she loved me and did her best.

There are hard feelings. There are times you’re not sure you did the right thing. You’re trying to take the other one’s feelings, thoughts, ideas into consideration and possibly failing.
But there is love, limitless founts of unconditional love. There are times when you just know that you did it right. That you are the product of, or looking at the product of the most on point mothering humanly possible.
Am I the best mom in the world?
Most likely not.
Have I tried to be the best mom I possibly can?
With every fiber of my being.

Daughters are curious beasts. Every single daughter ever. Some of us grow up to be mothers and become an entirely new kind of curious beast.
As much trouble and hard times as we’ve had, I wouldn’t trade my curious beasts for anything! Because we’ve also had great times and so much love that I sometimes can’t even contain it!

Mothers and daughters are tricky. There’s never going to be any getting around that. But sometimes tricky is the best thing ever!

Categories: on being a mom | Tags: bad hair, beloved, curious beasts, daughters, good hair, hair, idiosyncrasies, love, motherhood, mothers, mothers and daughters, Sundance, teenagers, Thing 2, tricky, unconditional love | 1 Comment

oh happy day

Posted on September 1, 2015 by robynbird

Finally! After a twenty day countdown today is the day!
Thing 2 arrives at Dulles at 11:45 this morning!
I am quite possibly the happiest human being on the entire planet!
I can hardly wait to get my arms around my baby!