This past weekend, Calliope and I journeyed to Massachusetts to be present for my mother's bat mitzvah.
She also shared thoughts about her Torah passage in a wonderful essay about civil right and the current struggle of "Women of Wall" in Israel. I helped her develop the essay when she visited back in March, so I was extra proud of her. She has grown so much since my dad died of brain cancer 4 years ago, leaving her alone for the first time in her life -- she had moved from her parents' house to her husband's house at the age of 21. I'm very proud.
We flew to MA on Saturday morning -- I got up at 4:45 to make our flight, and in hindsight, that wasn't early enough. We made our flight, but only with a large portion of good luck. Who knew that JFK and Jet Blue would be absolutely jam packed at 7 am on a random Saturday? Our flight was delayed getting out because 15 turtles were ever so slowly crossing the runway.
And we returned yesterday, Sunday afternoon. Again, we cut it close for time (even though I didn't think I was) and again we were lucky. Our landing was scary, though. We were only a few hundred feet from touching ground when suddenly the engines roared and we abruptly soared up, away from the runway. The pilot reported a few minutes later that air traffic controllers has scheduled planes too close together, and that there was still a plane on the runway when we were about to touch down.
I made sure Calliope was tightly strapped into the baby carrier for the next, ultimately successful, attempt at landing.
So everything was fine, but I'm tired. I haven't been going to sleep early enough to combat Calliope's occasional night wakings. At least twice last week, I had to retreat to the couch after Calliope failed to go back to sleep on her own. The problem is that I typically huddle in bed for a good 45 minutes, hoping for the best and too sleepy to get up, before I admit to myself that things aren't going to change while I'm still in the room.
Being tired just colors everything in life.
I'm feeling guilty and also just plain disoriented to [still] feel so checked out at work. Does the passion ever come back?
High school graduation is tonight. The kids who were in 8th grade the year I started this job will be walking along that stage at last. I've known some of them a long, long time.
And you know?
I just don't care.
Not that much, anyway. Not enough to pay for childcare and stay late after work to be here.
And I feel bad about that. But not bad enough to stay.
I also decided, based on how exhausting this weekend's travel was, not to go to California this summer. I'm vaguely disappointed, because I know I would love it if I went. I also feel guilty, for not living up to my promise of going. And I worry that it will be deathly hot here, and I will regret staying put.
But flying with an older babyis exhausting (it was wonderfully easy when she was little). Calliope refused to sleep in the baby carrier (or the stroller) this weekend for the first time. She cries when we are in the car for more than 30 minutes, max. She's otherwise completely delightful, and she doesn't usually cry when she's short on sleep, but it means that I am 100% "on" for many consecutive hours.
She was very happy to crawl around and explore at the bat mitzvah and at my mom's house, but no one could pick her up if I was in sight -- she would immediately begin to wail and reach for me. It's nice to be loved, but it's tiring. I'm hoping this bout of separation anxiety will be over soon. The plane, of course, where there wasn't any family around, was especially tiring. Luckily she didn't struggle to get down, but I had to find new entertainment every three to five minutes. Plus, she kept kicking the nice man sitting next to us. Granted, a barefoot ten month old doesn't kick very hard, and she didn't have any clue what she was doing -- as far as she was concerned, she was just drumming her heels -- but still, I felt bad about it. Thank goodness a little girl one row back was fascinated by Calliope, and helped to keep her entertained.
The apartment purchase continues to move forward, but is likewise exhausting.
Work ends for the summer on Friday, but right now, being this tired, being home sounds exhausting also.
Last night I went to bed at 8:15 pm, and got up at 5 am to deal with unpacking. I'm glad I did, as I was far too tired to cope last night, but it meant that I didn't have time to exercise this morning. I know that that would be the kick in the pants that I need to feel more like myself today, but sometimes, I just can't do it all.
I have good news to report, though, in that my nipples are nearly healed. Hooray! That makes my life a lot easier.
And I'm thrilled that it does look like I will soon be an apartment owner, it's just the getting there that's stressful.
I'm still hoping and praying for Jen, who is now 21 weeks pregnant with her twins, and mourning for Claire's loss of her beloved companion, Levi.