Posts Tagged With: family

Y’all come now, ya hear?

The room that was originally built as an eclectic teen space for Thing 2 has been re-imagined into a serene retreat. A place I will occasionally visit when I need to “go away for the weekend” but not really leave home. My friend and mentor has claimed it as her own, much to by YBW’s and my delight. Now to get her here from Charleston…
I’m pleased with the way it turned out and look forward to folks I love coming to lay their head and stay with us a while.

The en suite bathroom has yet to be painted, though I’ve finally settled on a color choice. The enormous closet is filled with boxes and boxes line the wall. Boxes of my family things that came home to me from Richmond and the with holidays I haven’t made time to unpack and sort.
I’ll get around to that pretty quickly. I’m itching to see what’s in those boxes and ready for the mini project of painting that bathroom.

Y'all come now, ya hear?

Y’all come now, ya hear?

Categories: around the house | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

tidings of comfort and joy (and donuts)

I got up early this morning to take friends to the airport. I left YBW and his two Things at home fast asleep.
My student (who’s mother died in March) and his daddy are going “home” for Christmas.
Their little family and mine have become so close that we are now truly a part of each other’s families. The little boy calls Thing 2 his daughter. He heard me say it once and then took her all around the school and said to anyone who would listen, “This my daughter, Thing 2.” He also says, “Thing G my favorite.” Mostly he says, “I go you house Robynbird?”
So Thing 2’s three year old “dad”, D has become a ‘nephew’ to YBW and me and his daddy, S feels to me like a ‘younger brother’. This morning I was their big sister/aunt and packed them up and drove them to the airport, left them with hugs and kisses and promises to let me know when they arrived safely.

A song that I always associate with Thing 2 began to play and I was flooded with equal feelings of joy and sadness. My initial concern about starting my day poorly with sadness faded as the song went on and joy overwhelmed my sadness. I’m relieved to realize I can feel sad about missing her but those feelings don’t consume me. The feelings of joy, the memories of driving too fast with the windows down blasting this song and singing it at the tops of our voices are too good to hand over to the sadness of missing my girl.

I drove home as the sky lightened with the idea to stop and get donuts to bring home to the boys…I know what each of them likes so it was pretty easy to choose a dozen and grab a cappuccino on the way home.
So here I sit, with my take out coffee waiting for three boys to wake up. The little Christmas tree lighted, the menorah waiting for it’s last few nights of candles, the stockings hung by the chimney with care and my heart filled with comfort and joy.
20141221_082552
I do wish these boys would get on up though, I’m hungry!

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it’s the most wonderful time of the year

My three year olds tie-dyed socks to hang in our classroom as stockings.

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We found a huge branch on the playground brought it in and decorated it for our tree.
We are celebrating the holidays (Hanukkah and Christmas, but not Kwanzaa because we don’t have any students who celebrate it at home.) with food and families. We’re reading books about food and families. Books like Cupcake, and The Mice of Bistrot des Sept Freres. Both these books have recipes in the back to create the yummies we’re reading about in the pages so we’re going to prepare and enjoy them in class.
The kids have been taking about how they love to cook with their parents which lead to us asking for stories and recipes important to the families. These stories and recipes will become a classroom family cookbook.

My home has all the nativities set up and ready, the menorah waiting to be lit, one tree up and lighted (though not yet decorated) and the other to be put up this weekend when Things C and G come home.
YBW and I were standing in the kitchen early yesterday morning and I said: Have I told you today how much I love Christmas?
YBW said: Not today, no.
Me: I SUPER love Christmas!
YBW: I know you do, baby.
Me breaking into song: It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

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the little things mean the most

I went to Richmond yesterday to pick up my mother’s things from her husband. These include ‘family’ things from my mother’s maternal and paternal families, as well as things that belonged specifically my beloved Grandaddy, and all the photographic evidence of the first fifteen years of my life.
I peeked in some of the boxes as YBW and I brought them into the house and the item that brought me sobbing tears of joy was Grandaddy’s bible.

Grandaddy's bible

Grandaddy’s bible

Inside there are pictures of my grandmother and Mommie when she was a little girl, these photos have been in his bible ever since I can remember…of course they’ve most likely been there since they were developed in the 50’s.
I guess it doesn’t really matter how long they’ve actually been in there because they’re still there now and they are mine.
My delight is immeasurable!

Bettye and Mary E

Bettye and Mary E

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kiss your brain

I don’t normally love Thanksgiving. I mean the actual ‘holiday’, not the concept. To me it’s just an inconvenient stop between Halloween and Christmas. I am thankful all my days…I don’t need a specific day to celebrate my gratitude. I have an issue with the conspicuous consumption of food on Thanksgiving Day. Now, I absolutely love food, but it seems to me that Thanksgiving is more about celebrating gluttony than giving thanks.

All of that said, I have to admit I’m actually feeling enthusiastic about Thanksgiving this year. There are two reasons for this. The first reason is even though my child won’t be living in it, the basement is finally finished and we are beginning to put our home and our lives back together.
The second is because I ordered all my food from Wegmans this year.
The entire meal, from turkey to cranberries, completely cooked, packaged up and ready for me to heat and serve. This feels equally wrong and right. I’m perfectly capable of making Thanksgiving dinner for eight, but I don’t really want to. Wegmans has everything I need for a price I couldn’t argue. I’d have spent just as much gathering all the ingredients.
I’m a teeny bit ashamed of myself…but I’m so relieved I’m not going to be stuck in the kitchen all damn day and missing the thing I love about Thanksgiving…the Macy’s Parade. Won’t be stuck in the kitchen all damn day while people lounge on the giant sofa in front of football games.
I’ll heat that food, serve it up pretty, have other people clear and clean up and enjoy my day.
There will be a teeny bit of me that is ashamed for not cooking…I’ll just pour her another glass of wine and she’ll shut up quickly enough.

I’m thankful for the people in my life, my family and friends and the love we share. For my home where I feel safe and loved.
I’m especially thankful for a man who loves me because I’m me and not for what he’d like me to be.
I’m thankful I am so close with my co-teacher, that she and I were meant to be in a classroom together, that we make each other better teachers.
I’m thankful for words. Word that have been written, words not yet written.
I’m thankful for art, all kinds of visual art, but mostly books and music.
I’m thankful for Macy’s and their parade because it really does bring me joy even though I cry every year when Santa arrives.
I’m thankful for Wegmans and their delicious food and reasonable pricing.
And wine! I’m SO thankful for wine!

There is a wonderful teacher in my school who has the most precious habit of encouraging her students to “kiss their brains”. They do this by kissing their hands and placing them on their heads. She encourages them to do this when the are attempting to learn, when they have learned or when they just need a bit of reassurance.
I love this practice!
I’m thankful for my brain, for everything it helps me do.
I kiss my brain.
And I encourage you to do the same.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

standing in the rain, and waiting for the stream to settle

Today would have been my dad’s sixty-ninth birthday and I stood in the rain scattering his ashes in a place he loved to be.
I did this because his oldest and dearest friend came from Colorado to perform this act and he is the one who chose the date. He felt it was a good way to honor my dad, the anniversary of his birth. I’m not sure how I feel about this.
I did it because it was what my dad wanted, and he wanted his friend involved. I’d known this for years so I had plenty of time to prepare for it. They were cops together, I’ve know him since I was a teeny little thing, but you know how that goes, he’s close with my dad and I grow up and move on.
My heart wasn’t in it really, I was just going through the motions. But I’m OK with that because it wasn’t about me it was about my dad’s friend…and my dad. I am a good daughter.
I’m tired now it’s all over. It was cold and rainy which wasn’t physically comfy and it was emotionally exhausting. I want to get in the bathtub with my ipad for a bit of soaking and Netflix.

On the Thing 2 front, I finally had a good long conversation with my friend and mentor last night. She asked what my heart was telling me to do. I told her my gut said, make her come back, my heart is tired of fighting and my head pretty much wants the other two to get it together. She laughed. She reminded me I’m a “gut truster”. I agreed.
We talked a bit more and she told me I had been tromping back and forth in the stream and it was muddy and unclear, that perhaps I should sit by the stream and let the sediment fall to the bottom and wait for the water to clear. (Oh how I love this analogy!)
We talked a bit longer and she just wondered aloud where I was. I took a deep breath and said: I’m going to let it go and leave her where she is.
I feel good about that decision because instead of focusing on her, I decided to focus on me. I’m going crazy trying to decide what to do what’s best for her life and completely ignoring what’s best for my own.

This morning I had the most freeing thought.
I’m so worried about Thing 2’s future but I didn’t take into consideration that teenagers live in the now. So if she’s sad, lonely and uncomfortable here in this home, how successful can her future be?
I know her dad won’t hold her accountable, but perhaps she really can live happily in the now and STILL have a relatively successful future.
And that might be as positive as I’ll ever feel about it.
I lived in that horrible situation for years, trapped, scared and feeling unsafe. It hurt me physically and emotionally. If she FEELS safe, etc. then isn’t that actually “what’s best” for her?
I believe she stands a better chance here but I’m only going to focus on me and my future.
She’ll sort it out eventually. I believe I’ve done a good enough job raising her to have that faith.

And that’s how this portion of the story ends.
She will be responsible for ‘cleaning up her own mess’ and building her future and I’ll focus on my own future and just love her.

Categories: death, loss, love, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

hearth-fires and holocausts

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

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

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

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

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

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

Categories: love, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

how exercising patience made it better

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isn’t that what Mommies do?

Categories: love, me, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Categories: divorce, me, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

if wishes were horses, beggars could ride

Yesterday was hard and I felt quiet. YBW celebrated with Thing C and Thing G and we went to his nephew’s graduation party. I was quiet, I drank water and ate a tiny spoonful of banana pudding. We went home and watched a movie all snuggled together on the sofa before the boys went back home to their mom’s. (It’s her week.)
When the boys left, YBW hugged me and asked was I sad, was I thinking about my dad. No, not sad, no, not really thinking about my dad in the context of Father’s Day…I can’t stop thinking about him…about the mess he left behind…about how much work it is to clean it up and how much I don’t want to clean it up.

I got home from school right about 4:00 on Friday, went upstairs, took off my shoes, then my britches and before I could put on new ones, I fell asleep on my bed. YBW came home (I don’t know what time it was.) and checked to see if I wanted to get up. I tried and couldn’t…I just kept sleeping. He came back a few hours later asking if I wanted dinner. No thank you, and back to sleep. I got up at 8:00 and got a drink of water pulled my jammies on and went back to bed. I slept straight through till 8:00 Saturday morning.
I just want to stay in my bed all the time.

This is my last week in my classroom…I move to a new classroom in a different age-group next week…I came here and completely salvaged the two year old program and now have been asked to do the same for the three year old program. So when I clean up this mess…will I have salvaged myself out of a job?
There is a part of me that is eager to get it underway, the transformation of space and ‘wrangling’ of children, creating a sense of community…a classroom family if you will.
YBW told me it’s what I do best, organize and restructure and make it run smoothly…he says I like to see the progress. He’s right. I’m just not sure now is the best time…
What I do know is this: I’ll be successful and satisfied.

Sundance and I are currently texting, asking how the other is we each respond with: ‘Same as it ever was.’ I then wrote: ‘I’m so sick of same as it ever was. Yet I dread change.’ (I’m going to need for you to get it together, Robynbird.)

Today is the first day of a thirty day cleanse…my body has suffered my indifference long enough and needs to be taken good care of. I spent a goodly bit of money without much thought…but it felt right when I considered it. It’s not about weight as much as my health and way my clothes fit…this is about losing inches as well as weight…bring on the inches! (Well, take away the inches, but you know what I mean.)

My dad used to say: If wishes were horses, beggars could ride.

That’s cool, Daddie, but I’m going to wish and ride and eventually feel better in the process. Perhaps the cleansing of my body will somehow promote the cleansing of my soul?

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