Quivering upper lip

Met with my psychiatrist today. I'm doing fine and am ready to up the dose of my new mood stabilizer. We laughed a little. I told him how, despite what I saw were positive effects of the drug, my life was incredibly stressful right now. He said, "My part is easy, writing the prescription. The rest, well, you have your work cut out for you." That's putting it mildly.
He is the first psychiatrist I have found who actually listens and you feel your time is worth spent being with him. (Thanks Sarah!) So even though my mood is better, I usually cry at the therapists' office. I mean, you're keeping a stiff upper lip, then somebody asks "How are you feeling?" The lip starts quivering, the tears spill down the cheeks. So, we're having a pretty good session, but I know it's only a matter of time.

It's time to go, and conveniently, the pediatrician is across the hall. Kyle had a knee x-ray done last night (my budding wrestler) and I pop in to get the results. "Are you okay?" the nurse asks concernedly. Too late, the tears gush out. The doctor, a new one, sits with me in the room and tells me Kyle's knee has no broken bones. If it's still sore, maybe he should see a sports doctor. But meanwhile, she puts her hand on my knee, "Tell me if there's anything I can do for you." That damn public sympathy, not good for that stiff lip thing. "A job?" I ask as a tear slips out. She has a friend who works with immigrants, maybe I can use my Chinese. Yeah, well, maybe. Off I go.

I remember our two credit cards need to be paid today. The last stock we sold hasn't made it into our bank accounts yet. I move around some cash from business to personal, hoping everything adds up. Will yesterday's deposit into our business account go through in time? As for that $2700 consulting job last September? Still waiting on that check. Last I heard it was in the mail. Uh-huh. Tell Santa.

So the book. A book on being a recession-era mom? Or a mom of a transgender child? Two books? Combine the topic? Please comment.