Whitney (Walters) Jacobson

How I am

I am trying not to self-combust.

I am trying to be a good wife while my husband is living and working 3 1/2 hours away from me.

I am trying to be a good caretaker of my dog who is on edge and overjoyed at the slightest offering of attention.

I am trying to be the best mother I can be for my 16-month-old daughter.

I am smelling the lilacs with her.

I am trying to be a present parent.

I am trying to be present.

I am taking too many photos.

I am making lists, so I don't forget things.

I am making lists to keep myself accountable.

I am making lists for my lists.

I am teaching.

I am trying to advance maintain advance maintain my career.

I am looking for jobs.

I am waiting for employers’ decisions.

I am waiting for my toddler's daycare to open.

I am trying to take nonexistent time for myself.

I am nodding yes to every request and Tetris-ing my schedule into each day's 24 hours.

I am trying to sleep.

I am trying to clear my mind.

I am scrolling on social media.

I am tossing and turning.

I am trying to take a shower every other day.

I am praying.

I am despairing.

I am trying to write.

I am trying to revise.

I am trying to read.

I am trying to be a friend.

I am trying to be a neighbor.

I am trying to be a daughter, a sister, a granddaughter.

I am just under 3 hours away from my closest family.

I am trying to be an anti-racist.

I am trying to meet sufficient standards.

I am trying to remember to drink water.

I am trying to remember to fill the dog's nearly empty water dish.

I am trying not to kill my plants.

I am trying to maintain my house, and yard, and garage.

I am trying to let things go.

I am trying not to be a burden.

I am trying to save money.

I am sending money to local businesses.

I am trying to nurture.

I am trying to be healthy.

I am eating bags of dried mangoes.

I am eating strawberry rhubarb crisp with ice cream.

I am making green bean soup every other week.

I am trying to plan out meals (see my lists).

I am trying not to cry.

I am trying not to let my toddler see me cry.

I am turning 31.

I am now only a year younger than my mom was when she died.

I am grieving.

I am wearing a mask.