A robin lands on the branch outside. It tilts its head to the side, and sings.
We were taking a much-needed vacation two weeks ago, before everything started to unravel. I felt guilty for leaving the kids. I think most moms out there understand… I always feel guilty for leaving the kids. But we woke up a few mornings later in Jamaica to learn a tornado struck Nashville, and I texted my mom in a panic. The horrible juxtaposition wasn’t lost on us. The second round came for us when we learned the schools were closing over this virus. Life can change at break neck speed.
We went from dipping our toes in the warm Caribbean water, to hunkering down for what feels like a blizzard.
So far, my desk top, the kids x-box, the washing machine and our riding lawn mower have all broken down. As if the universe was comically saying, “pick one”. And somehow, we’ve fixed them all. It was mostly Jamin, but I did stick my freakishly tiny long fingers into a scary dark drainage hole to retrieve a rogue sock, so there’s that bragging right. {3.75 ring finger size is paying off in the apocalypse, y’all.} Then, I had my first meltdown on Friday after being sequestered for over a week. I dropped a hand weight on my foot and had a legit toddler-esque cry fest. I screamed. My youngest cried with me. It wasn’t one of my finer moments.
It wasn’t even about my injury.
I have a predisposition to worry. I worry about our family. But beyond that, I want to check in on our elderly neighbors, local food banks and small businesses. I want to do something for children who aren’t in school right now and need those free meals. This haunts me a little when the night is still, and I have too much time to think. I feel this to my core. We want to help in every way that we can, and are searching beyond ourselves in this situation. Everything about this can plague my anxiety.
So I strive to stay informed, and make smart choices without the fear. In the meantime, I know that staying home and social distancing is what we need to do in the name of altruism, while we try to take this one day at a time.
Stay informed. Stay calm. Stay put.
But in that, something lovely has happened.
There’s a little robin pair that settled in on our side porch this week. We usually try to prevent nests on our porch because of the messes that they make, but the entire thing has been perfectly curated in a matter of hours while a mama is ready to settle in safely, and start her family.
We can relate with that little robin. We marvel at her quick ingenuity and clever spot of choice. Needless to say, we won’t be moving their haven. We eagerly wait for a little family to appear, and covertly steal a peek at it every morning.
There’s been a shift in our perspective. We’re focusing on the little things.
We have family meals and gather around the table at lunch and dinner and breakfast, too. The other morning we did a family brunch and it felt like a tiny celebration with bacon, and orange juice while we have it. The moments are a little less rushed. Conversations range from deeper topics to silly ones and there’s something about practicing the art of being present.
But don’t let me fool you with the meal thing. Popcorn with M&M’s sprinkled in, sometimes makes a perfectly nice stand-in dinner, and screen time is more than okay, too. They’re connecting with friends on video games in bedheads and pajamas, living their best life.
But no worries, because we have required reading each day, and there’s nothing cuter than babes snuggled up with a good book.
There are giggles and stomping and the echoes of hilarious jokes in our house. The boys wrestle too much. Mocking screams while they tease their sister. Our youngest is currently into riddles. I never know what he’s going to come up with next.
I’ve converted the armoire into a crafting closet of sorts, and they now have free reign. I announce our art activity for the day and tell them they’re welcome to join me for ‘class’. The younger two are eager and the oldest is slowly coming around even though the look on his face tells me this is ridiculous. Each day we do a different project, from painting, to clay-making and melting beads and more. Little fingernails have clay and paint crusted underneath, and nothing makes me happier.
We’ve found calm in creating.
Dance parties are a thing. I taught them how to play spoons the other night, and I have a funny feeling it’s that Bob Ross game’s time to shine from where it formerly sat, collecting dust in the cabinet.
I knew our dogs were therapy, but I never knew how much until now. We may or may not have turned popcorn tossing into a game, to see who can jump higher. Their snuggles are a real comfort.
We smile at fun texts and phone conversations with friends in this same situation. Coping with humor is just what we needed. Funny memes have saved me right now.
We stick our toes in the grass when we can steal the chance. Relish a sunny afternoon when the sun peeks through the clouds. Admire flowers bursting in little clusters on branches in the yard.
In gratefulness. In joy. In the tiny every day, seemingly insignificant things.
It’s like this horrible world on the outside has given us a chance to adjust our lens on the things that we don’t always feel we have time for. The things we don’t make time for. The little things that sometimes go unnoticed. The truly important stuff.
It’s almost as if someone really has pulled the plug on 2020, and we just have to power down for a bit before plugging it back in again.
So here’s to finding joy in the simple things.
No, to seeking it, especially when the world wants us to be afraid.
Peace in the middle of the storm. To the calm in the chaos. To appreciating all the things we have to be grateful for.
Here’s to the robin that sings.
Here’s to the little things.
Anna says
Thank you so much for this today. I needed some fresh perspective and you’re absolutely right.
Bets says
I loved this. Thank you so much.
ashley @ the handmade home says
Thank you Bets! Thank you for stopping by today. Hope you are staying well.
Donna says
You’ve said it all !
ashley @ the handmade home says
Thank you so much Donna! It means the world to us that you stopped by. Thank you
Pamela Smith says
So true! I love this! I have a hummingbird mama that built her nest in my patio and it has been fascinating to watch those babies grow. They are just about ready to fly away and I will miss watching them! I’m just hoping mam will lay a couple more eggs, so I can watch again! Stay safe!
ashley @ the handmade home says
That is so lovely, Pamela. One day at a time. LOVE this.