Posts Tagged With: all the feels

another member joins the adult orphan club

Posted on September 5, 2022 by robynbird

The last couple of weeks have been chaos for our family.
Husband N’s mother died unexpectedly two weeks ago Saturday.
My daughter, her husband, and their daughter were heartbroken.
YBW and I were heartbroken.
I can’t tell you how precious a woman she was or how much she will be missed.
Husband N lost his dad in the mid aughts so he’s recently joined the terrible club of adult orphans.

He’s and only child with an enormous extended family.
Fortunately, the majority of this extended family was able to help and support him as he figured out what he needed to do.
He came to YBW and me for emotional support and guidance.
He and Thing 1 came to YBW and me for practical support and childcare.

My hear hurts for my son in law who lost his own momma. For my daughter who lost a truly wonderful mother in law. For Baby K who lost her Nana.

I could not have asked for a better (other) grandmother with whom to share my granddaughter. Nana was as kind and loving a woman as you’d ever want to meet. She had a childlike sense of joy and saw the good in everyone. She was always eager to share time, stories, photos, and love between herself, Baby K, and me. She never behaved as though she felt a way about Baby K spending more time with us. Even when we were all together and Baby K would sort of default to me and I would encourage her to ask or show or tell or whatever Nana, she never had her feelings hurt.
She was simply joyful to be all together.

I’m grateful my daughter had a mother in law who loved her so completely, who became another momma to her. I’m grateful Baby K had a Nana who loved her so completely. Who was eager and willing to share the grandmother spotlight with such an open heart.

I hope I can provide that same sort of love for Husband N. I’ll never be his Momma, but I can be another momma for him. One that loves him so completely he feels comforted in his loss.

Y’all, my family is hurting.
But we’re figuring it out together.
We have memories and share stories.
We have laughter and tears.
Mostly we have love.

I’d be so grateful if you’d be willing to hold my daughter’s family in your hearts as they find their way grieving, handling the business of death, and adapting to this new way of being.

Categories: death, loss | Tags: all the feels, business of death, death, family, grateful, gratitude, grief, grieving, healing, hope, hopeful, loss, love, peace, support, supportive family | 2 Comments

my own March madness

Posted on March 21, 2022 by robynbird

I’m at school more than I’m not.

How do kindergarteners know how to cuss?
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” when no one is even speaking.

Incident report because first grader beat me up.
Bite marks and bruising, but no broken skin – right forearm. Bruising from heel kicks – right shin. Redness from backhand punches – nose and left cheek.

School. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
It’s too much.
SPED class teachers and TAs are heroic.
Or crazy.
Am I a glutton for punishment?
I just wanted to help.

So tired.
Got sick.
Haven’t actually been sick in four or five years.
Worn slap out.

Sub job canceled today.
Sweet relief.
Can nurse this cold in peace.

No creative energy.
Literally just putting one foot in front of the other.
Fortunately it’s over now.

Rest.
Linger in steamy shower.
Write.
Rest.

Tomorrow brings something new.
Am hopeful.

Categories: me | Tags: ability to help, all the feels, common cold, over-functioning, overworked, random thoughts, rest, sick, substitute teacher, thoughts, tired | 4 Comments

love and joy and cookies

Posted on December 22, 2021 by robynbird

Thing 1 and I baked cookies all day yesterday.

Baby K said, “I help you!” many times.
Of course toddler help looks often looks like her taking cookies off the pan and cramming them in her gob as quickly as we can cut them. (I’m over here like, dude, that’s what scraps are for!)
Or taking a handful of flour and throwing it on the floor while saying, “It’s SNOW!”
Then when her mother unceremoniously removes her from the stool upon which she stands, laying in the flour on the floor and…”I making snow angel!”
(Yeah, we laughed. It was freaking adorable!)
We had a reprieve when her Papa came home from lunch and they sat at the island being all cute while they ate their lunches together.
And again while she napped.

Baking is not my strong suit.
But yesterday, baking with my girl. I was absolutely content.
I enjoyed her company.
I enjoyed working in the kitchen with her.
I enjoyed watching her be her daughter’s mom.

That time was sacred to me and I’m grateful for it.
It wasn’t about the cookies, though most of them turned out beautifully.
It was about the process.
It was about the fellowship.
I know how fortunate I am to live close to my daughter, especially after not for so long.
But more than that, I know how fortunate I am to be close to my daughter.
Love, joy, and gratitude are spilling over in me and out into the world.
I hope y’all can feel it too!

Categories: love | Tags: all the feels, around the house, Baby K, baking cookies, Christmas, Christmas baking, cookies, feels, fellowship, fun, grateful, gratitude, joy, kitchen, love, Thing 1 | 1 Comment

grief is a dick punch

Posted on November 24, 2021 by robynbird

My mom’s been gone ten years this week.
I have more feels about this than I’d like.
It’s simpler to just kind of know intrinsically that she’s dead and not really think about it. Because when I do think about it, I mostly feel anger.
Ten years later and I’m still so fucking angry!
I’m angry she was sick and kept the secret. I’m angry at her for choosing to die.

Seventeen days between finding out she was sick to finding out she was dead.
Like, why am I surprised she was selfish? Why am I surprised she kept her declining health a secret? She was nothing but secrets.
Knowing she was who she was doesn’t make the anger any less.

I’m angry I barely got to see her.
I’m angry I had to rush to say goodbye.
I’m angry that helping her ridiculous husband manage his grief kept me from helping my daughters manage their grief.
I’m angry that my grief is more anger than anything.

I’ve worked through so many things in therapy.
Cleary this is not one of them…

TBPH though, most days I’m just a girl with no parents. And I’m OK with that. My anger spends the majority of my life taking a nap. But when it wakes, we just kind of fuel each other and feed off each other and I simply cannot believe things she said and did are still manipulating me. (Perhaps it’s that I’m letting them manipulate me…?)
Either way, I’m not feeling love for her. I’m not feeling sad she’s gone. I’m not nostalgic about her.
I’m feeling really fucking mad.

Feeling all this anger can’t possibly be good for me.
But I’m over here up to my ass in it.

My logical brain understands I need to let it go. (y’all hear Elsa too, right?) Send that anger on it’s way. Even if it’s replaced with nothing, that’s most likely better for me. To feel anything instead of anger, I’m here for it.
My feelings place understands I don’t feel that anger the majority of my life. That it flares up when I do stop to think about my mother’s death.

Our relationship, her life, neither of those had to end the way they did.
Her mom died suddenly when she was only twenty three years old.
My mom chose to die in secret and I found out suddenly when I was forty years old.
She knew what that was like. To lose her mom without warning. Why would she do that to her own daughter?
I don’t understand that kind of selfishness.
She was controlling the situation (and us in it) even as she was dying.
Talk about needing to let it go.
Just fucking be real with your children. We’re adults. We can handle it.

That’s not who she was.
She was a tyrannical dictator who ran her world with an iron fist.
She wasn’t about to give that up at the end of her life.

How disappointing.
She could have done it differently and we all could have felt our feels as we went.
Of course she wasn’t interested in us feeling our feels. To be fair, she wasn’t interested in feeling her own feels either.
It just occurred to me that she’d probably enjoy that I’m angry about her death.
That’s nearly enough to make me choose to never be angry about it again. Why in the fuck would I give her the posthumous satisfaction?

Interestingly enough, simply writing about it helped me feel less angry. (must journal more frequently)
I’m an orphan in this world. An adult child of deceased parents.
Most days I’m cool with it. I adapted. This is my life now.
But the anniversary of my mom’s death got me thinking.
And feeling.
That anger didn’t bubble up in a manageable way, it erupted like a volcano and I was simultaneously burning and drowning in the lava flow.
Somehow I survived and the lava is cooling.
I find myself wondering if this anger volcano can move from dormant to extinct.
I mean, time and work-of-self moved it from active to dormant…so that’s moving in the right direction, yeah?

I don’t know.
I can’t help but wonder if feeling angry is better than feeling unloved.

Grief is weird.
Sometimes it’s just a normal state of being.
Sometimes it’s a straight up dick punch.
I’m choosing to move back into ‘normal state of being’, this ‘dick punch anger’ is painful and exhausting.

That’s what life’s about though, right?
The choices we make.
I choose to feel my feels.
I choose to figure out how to process those feels.
I choose to acknowledge, accept-don’t-judge, and release those feels.

I do think it’s OK that I’m angry about the way my mom died.
I don’t think I need to let it consume me.
Look at me, over here growing.
Huzzah!

Categories: death | Tags: #anixousavoidantattachment, #complextrauma, #insecureattachment, #intermittentreinforcement, #narcissisticabuse, #selfdoubt, #shame, #unconditionallove, #unloveddaughter, all the feels, anger, angry, anxious avoidant attachment, choices, death, dick punch, feeling, feeling all the things, feels, grief, guilt, healing, I am not my feelings, loss, love, making good choices, mothers and daughters, parenting, relationships, self healing | 12 Comments

all that compounded smartness

Posted on July 14, 2021 by robynbird

I felt anxious Monday.
Literal low-level thrumming in my body.
This list is enormous!
Three weeks sounds like a long time, but it’s not.
How will I get this done?
How will I be ready for the movers?

My logical brain knew all that was straight up bullshit.
My logical brain knew I’d planned everything out to the nth degree.
My logical brain knew I was prepared.

But my feels were actively attempting to run the show.
That physical vibration was convincing as hell.

To thwart the feels, I over-functioned my ass off.
So much so that I crossed off everything for the week of July 11-17 on my moving list that very day.
But that wasn’t good enough.
I had to do stuff scheduled for the following week too.
I had to get more done.
On Monday.
Of the second week.

This is where I was when I went to bed Monday night.
Monday July 12.

What you don’t see crossed off are two things I actually started working on.
pack bathroom and linen closet
pack clothes

I was chatting with Thing 1 about how I was feeling. She was loving and encouraging. But I simply couldn’t shake the feels.
She was quite clear that I shouldn’t overwhelm myself right before the finish line.
(it’s like she knows me)
I assured her I knew it wasn’t real. That logically I was even more on target than my prep work suggested I be. But I sure as hell felt a way about it.

We talked later in the day when I finally stopped and sat down.
In this conversation I was finally able to verbalize what I was feeling anxious about. I wasn’t sure how to pack all the random things so the movers would take them. I didn’t want to waste boxes I might need for dishes on laundry room things, etc.
It was then I began to realize my panic wasn’t only about being ready on time, it was also about being properly packed so the movers could be successful.
Thing 1 was like, “Uh…Momma. You can put stuff in your car and take it over there.”
(but actually kinder than that sounds)

Her words created an instantaneous shift in me.
My body was still even though my brain was thrumming – with realization!
I didn’t have to pack up anything awkward. I could simply put it in the car.
Y’all! My girl saved the day!
I often tease her that she’s smarter than me. She doesn’t see it that way. She calls it ‘compounded smartness’. That she’s as smart as she is because I’m as smart as I am and she simply built upon it.
(something like that, I think she explains it better)
Either way, she saved the day.

The container we packed in March is being delivered Wednesday of that last week and being unloaded first thing Thursday morning.
Thing 1 offered to meet me at this house after they’re finished at the new house. We’ll each load up a vehicle and take it to the new house.
Then anything that doesn’t really go into a proper box, or anything we’ll need straight away will be there ready for us.
YBW is staying at the new house because the smart home guys will be there working their magic. So he’ll pack up his car the night before instead of coming back home with me.
Those three loads will carry all the awkward things, and the movers can do the rest.

I’m still properly planned.
I’m ahead of schedule.
I’m perfectly still inside.
Like some sort of organizational ninja, this move won’t even see me coming.

This is an excellent example of why we must talk about feeling a way. Just because our logical and emotional selves are at odds, doesn’t mean there isn’t a solution.
In my case, the solution was someone looking at it from a different perspective.
Someone who knows and loves me, and had the patience to listen even though she knew I wasn’t making any kind of sense.
Grown children know what’s up.
It’s all that compounded smartness.

Categories: on being a mom | Tags: ability to help, all the feels, anxious, dude I got mad skills, help, kindness, list lady, lists, love, mad skills, making a list, mothers and daughters, moving, moving house, organization, organization skills, organize, packing, patience, preparation, Thing 1 | 7 Comments

energy alignment and evolving spaces

Posted on January 22, 2021 by robynbird

I came across this on instagram the other night. It struck a chord in me as I immerse myself in packing.

I like how it says not ‘aligned with who you are anymore’.
I like the idea of your space evolving as you do.

I’ve been thinking about this concept as YBW and I leave this house to live in the new house.
The new house will begin with who we are together, where and how we are aligned now.

A new alignment will not change who we were individually, and who we were together. It doesn’t change how we lived in previous dwellings individually and together. It simply shifts the focus to who we are in this moment in time.
This is who we are now.

I believe creating new alignments does not dishonor who we used to be. I believe it is a reflection of who we are now.
I believe we can support and keep each other safe through this process.
I believe we can encourage each other’s alignment with love and respect.

Each of us choosing what we bring to our new home. How we choose to live together in this new environment.
What we bring with us has it’s own energy. We owe it to ourselves and each other to choose that energy carefully.

I’m hopeful as we continue to pack our things we choose mindfully.
I’m hopeful that the energy we bring into our new environment is positive and promotes growth.

Eight months ago, I wrote about being mindful how I curate my environment.

Things are just things.
At this stage of my life, my main focus is to curate my surroundings in a way that helps me thrive. Living my intention, learning and creating, and growing into the next version of me gives me all the feels.

That’s the kind of energy I’m all about creating an alignment with.

Categories: around the house | Tags: alignment, all the feels, clutter, curating your environment, energy, growth mindset, healthy relationships, learning, learning to grow, life, living my intention, love, mental health, mindful, mindful living, organization, positive energy, purging, relationships, self reflection, truest self | 4 Comments

Friday feels

Posted on July 17, 2020 by robynbird

Today is the first day I’ve stopped and taken a big breath this week.
I needed it!
Of course, stopping and breathing gave me the opportunity to be all in my feels.

gratitude
Even though it took two full weeks, Thing 2’s covid test came back negative
I got to hug Meredith and her Mommy when their family returned from a forty-five day cross-country trip
My gloriously supportive friends who encourage me to think outside the box

than central air

joy
YBW and I put down the deposit for our house yesterday, and will sign the contract Wednesday

excitement
Road trip with YBW (we leave for GA in the morning and return with Thing 1’s family on Monday)
Baby K will be here all the time
I’m going to tutor select students this virtual school year (kind of like being an ‘at home’ substitute teacher)

It was an exceptionally great week to be me!

Categories: me | Tags: #azrael, all the feels, Baby K, central air, Dogma, excitement, feelings, friends, friendship, granddaughter, gratitude, joy, love, new home, teaching and learning, Thing 1, think outside the box, YBW | 3 Comments

accentuate the positive (and weird)

Posted on June 4, 2020 by robynbird

Y’all, my husband is a precious man.
I mean a truly precious man.
When he asked about my day and I told him I was feeling a way (mood) he began suggesting things he could do to help. From providing me with things to keep me occupied, (things he knew I didn’t really want to do) to coming up with things he could do to be helpful.
When I told him I appreciate him trying to help make it better, but I didn’t need him to fix it. He told me knew that, but he wants to help fix it because he loves me. And I honestly couldn’t argue with that.

We talked about me going to Thing 1’s. He inquired about girlie hotel weekend with Thing 2. She’s on the way regardless of which direction I’m heading.
This man is over here like, I can’t make it better for you, but if being with one or both of your girls will, I can make that happen.

He’s been very clear during the pandemic about how he understands his life is much more normal than most of the rest of us. He goes to work every day every other week, so those weeks feel normal. He gets out. He sees people. He gets do do the work he loves doing.
And I know how lucky we are!
We aren’t worried about how to pay the mortgage, or feed ourselves, or whether or not there’s enough loo paper.
We don’t have little kids at home who need to stay safe and continue to be educated.
We don’t have elderly parents to worry about.
Our kids are safe and healthy.

I’m quick to get frustrated.
And my husband often bears the brunt of that. I mean, sometimes he’s part of the situation, sometimes he’s just in the line of fire. But I hope he really understands how precious he is to me.
We had a conversation over the weekend in which I shared my concern that he never hears the good stuff. That he only hears negativity and criticism. I suggested that predated me. I’m not saying that I can’t be critical, because I can.
I’m hopeful he’s listening more for the good stuff.

My feels for this man are deep and wide.
We were meant to find each other in this life, but only when we were truly ready to accept the other with an open heart.
I waited my whole life for YBW.
He was worth the wait.
He told me “I think I’m falling in love with you.” the first time we were in the same physical space after dating over the phone and email for a couple of months. The smartest thing I ever did was decide to trust him.
His love and his kindness are without measure.
His desire to do all he can for the people he loves is bigger than he is.
His sense of humor is twisted and kind of gross, yet he continues to amuse me.
He’s creepy and weird but it somehow compliments my own creepy weirdness.

He has loved me though the last ten years with a kind and playful heart.
I am grateful for his willingness to fix my problems even when I don’t need him to.
Him simply being him eased my anxious heart and helped me feel more calm and settled.
I am grateful to feel safe in his love.

Categories: me | Tags: accentuate the positive, all the feels, compassion, feeling safe, frustrated, hopeful, kindness, love, love is safe, nurturing, precious, weirdness, YBW | 6 Comments

I’m a mood

Posted on June 3, 2020 by robynbird

It’s Wednesday and I’m trying to create a plan for my day…
Only I’ve literally done all the ‘things’.
Nothing left to sort or organize. Nothing to prep. Nothing to engage me creatively.
Other than laundry and food prep, I have no tasks or projects to keep me occupied. And truth be told, I don’t really care about food right now.
I’m reading, but even that’s not enough. I find myself finishing a chapter or two and looking around for something else to do.
Writing is tricky as I’m not sure what to say that doesn’t sound whiny AF.

Monday my big event was going over Michaels for a curbside pick up. Driving with the windows down and the beautiful sunny breeze was excellent. I almost just kept driving. Only I didn’t put on shoes before I left since I knew I wouldn’t have to get out of my car and it felt a bit ridiculous to be out and about without shoes, what if something happened and I had to walk?

Tuesday I stripped and remade the bed, laundered and folded sheets and towels. I skipped laundry day Friday because I had an appointment with the acupuncturist. So I also did clothes instead of just linens.
Even laundry didn’t help me perk up. Though it is nice to have everything clean.

I’m in a mood.
No, I am a mood.

I’m not entirely sad.
I’m not entirely angry.
I’m sure as fuck not content.

I’m tired. But not the kind of tired a good night’s rest alleviates. I’m the kind of tired that seeps into your bones and fills the very marrow.
And tired isn’t quite the right word either.

I’m searching for something I can’t quite put my finger on…
Something to keep my brain and body occupied in a positive way.

Perhaps I should go down to Thing 1’s and help her pack…of course making that trip twice in two months is over the top…at least it would give me something to do. And I could see that delightful fat baby!
That drive though…
Perhaps a quickie trip to see Thing 2? We could do a girlie hotel weekend! Are hotels even open?

I keep thinking inspiration will arrive via roundhouse kick to my soul…
So far, so nothing.

I’ve sworn off social media for a while. I can’t handle it anymore. I can’t stand how people claim to be woke then say bullshit like all lives matter.
Of-fucking-course all lives matter, but the only people dying in the streets are black people. So yes! Black lives are what matter right now.
I will never understand what it’s like to be a black person or other person of color in America, but by God, I am paying attention!

I’m grouchy.
I’m antsy.
I’m chock full of nervous energy with nothing productive to pour it into.
I am frustrated.
I am tired.

But above all, I am hopeful.
I keep looking for the silver lining. For the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. For the muses to show up and dazzle me.
Alas…here I sit. Writing about being a mood.
I appreciate your patience.

Categories: me | Tags: all the feels, angry, antsy, black lives matter, feeling hopeful, feelings, grief, grouchy, hopeful, life, love, mood, patience, quietly hopeful, racism, sad, self awareness, self quarantine, social distancing, tired | 9 Comments

things are just things

Posted on May 20, 2020 by robynbird

Y’all know Thing 1 and her family will be living in our house for a few months starting some time in July.
Y’all know YBW and I are eager to purchase and move into that townhouse.
The first of these will cause a change in the way we live in this house.
The second how we live in our new house.

This got me thinking about how I currently live in this house, how I want to live my remaining time in this house, and how I want to live in the new house.
Not how YBW and I live together. Those things must be decided by us as a unit.
I’m thinking how I want to live and what that means for me as a member of our household.

This thought process has been somewhat active as we begin to make preparations, but hatched into actual thoughts when I sent a photo to Thing 1 and Thing 2 asking if either of them had any interest in this item.

The story is my great aunt made this lamp for me. I don’t know when, but I do know I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t in my bedroom.
This Raggedy Ann lamp is a part of my life for as long as I can remember, but I don’t have any strong feels about it.
Thing 1 remarked that it’s one of those things that just stuck around.
The more I considered this, the more I realized that’s not a mindful way to live. At least I feel that way now about how I want to live.
Of late, I’ve worried that it may seem as though, and sometimes even feels like I’m just purging to purge, but I’m actually being super mindful about the way I want to live.
And what I surround myself with.
And what I leave behind needs to be the truest representation of the me I am (was?), and be simple for my daughters to handle.

I have this feeling it’s like shedding skin…
Or some sort of evolutionary process…
Leaving behind who you were in a mindful and respectful way and making room to become the next version of you…?

This is the last year of my forties, a natural phase of evolution as we get ready for a decade change. As I look at my life, I see how much my surroundings impact the way I live. By going through my things in a respectfully mindful way, I can prepare and environment that will meet my needs. Living my intention. Thriving in an environment that gives me everything I need with the bonus of things that foster learning and creativity. An environment in which I have enough room and the proper tools to grow into the next version of me.

Even though this lamp has been in my life as long as I can remember I don’t have any real feels about it.
Lack of feels is a strong indication that I don’t need it in my life which obviously means there’s no place for it in my house.
Purging to purge isn’t always healthy.
But being mindful about how I curate my environment is incredibly healthy.

My mom was not a full blown horder, but she was sure as hell a packrat. What I’ve learned about her since she’s been gone is that she saved things to fill emotional emptiness. By simply having these things she could feel the feels she didn’t have inside her.
She saved things that meant something because of the feels they evoked in her. Feels she couldn’t experience any other way.
My ex husband is exactly the same.
There is something about possessing particular items that provides some sort of emotion they otherwise lack (lacked). I truly believe it reinforces their stunted emotional growth. Then the weight of the things traps (trapped) them, so there’s no room to learn, or create, or grow.

I understand having great big feels about certain items. For me, a specific example of this is my Grandaddy’s wallet. It is of absolutely no use to me, but the feelings that bubble up in me when I hold it make it worth keeping.
But that is one particular item that is in a special place in my bookshelf that I can go to when I want to feel the intensity of those feels.
It doesn’t impact the way I live. It doesn’t block creativity or inhibit learning. It doesn’t waste space. It doesn’t keep me from growing as a human.
And I know as I write this that there will come a point in time I’ll be willing to let it go. Today is not that time.

I can’t be trapped by possessions. I need freedom to move. If I can’t move, I can’t grow.
I need to grow!
I want to evolve in my relationships with my friends.
I want to evolve in my relationships with my daughters.
I want to evolve with my granddaughter as she builds relationships.
I want to evolve in my relationship with my precious husband.

Things are just things.
At this stage of my life, my main focus is to curate my surroundings in a way that helps me thrive. Living my intention, learning and creating, and growing into the next version of me gives me all the feels.