Are you there calm? It's me, Justine

My hat's off to mothers everywhere; it's amazing to me that the human race has continued this long. After my 15 hours of travel with a 13 month old (just to get across the country! I didn't even go to Asia!) I was ready to give myself cement shoes and jump off a pier. Olivia fussed and hollered for our entire two-hour layover in Atlanta and slept about 40 minutes the whole day. Got to SFO where, thank God, Aaron was waiting with a luggage cart, went to San Mateo to pick up our dog, and arrived home to an apartment with no milk or bread or supper items. Promptly turned into Medusa.

Today was the usual catch-up from having been away for 8 days: laundry, grocery shopping, returning calls, etc. In the midst of this, I noticed the Medusa head reappearing. About 10 years ago I first noticed this same phenomenon in several of my friends after they had married and had children. They went from being funny, relaxed, generous women to brittle and angry harpies. I have joined this club and have no better idea of how to handle it then when I was on the outside looking in.

The economy seems to be am all-purpose scapegoat for all that is not going well, a catch-all explanation for the slipping of niceties, a barometer of the times. But I have this nagging suspicion that the economy has nothing to do with why my job search is going so poorly, why I feel like it is all out of control, why I worry and fret and break so often.

I once read that timely retreat is one of the skills of the warrior, yet I have no idea how to withdraw: there are too many battle fronts and no eye of the storm to gather my thoughts.

This week away was spent in CT with my lovely family. While I was there I visited the storage locker where all our things are stored. Opening the door to it I was struck with a wave of sadness: here was the physical embodiment of our circumstance. Everything boxed up, waiting for use. We don't have a place for our things to go and can't afford to send it to ourselves anyway. So they sit in limbo too. I gathered up some shoes and clothes to mail to CA and instantly second guessed myself. Do I really need work clothes? Should I see what it would cost to ship Olivia’s crib? What about the iron, toaster and vacuum cleaner? We’ll need those in a new place and I hate to repurchase them.

While Olivia and I were away Aaron was back in SF working and getting our taxes done (still!). We have had a few appointments with our accountant and it gets worse every time we talk to them. Unemployment from CA is taxable in CT. The foreclosure amount is taxable. And on it went. Our conversations with each other were low energy and regularly cut off by the call dropping or some local exigency.

My Dad turned 70 last week, which was the impetus for the trip, and my step-mom had a very nice dinner celebration for him. Olivia was the cutest thing you ever saw in her turquoise party dress. She chatted it up with about half the restaurant and made special friends with the owner. Everyone commented on what a happy kid she is.

That night and throughout the week I felt harried and underslept. I wasn't the patient mom I would like to be or the loving daughter, sister, niece. I was the same humorless, tired, joyless and impatient person I am in San Francisco and who I occasionally see in my daughter's eyes. She still gestures to me to pick her up. And I do, and we hug, and I try again.