Not sure how to blog anymore. If I'm honest, folks worry, but if I play like life is awesome, I'm a liar.
The days swing between feeling guilty for homeschooling our two remaining girls as a self-taught enterprise and our home revolving around my mom's care. She's first. No question. She sulks if she's not. Quietly, but I recognize the signs. Such an expert at guilt.
Middle daughter said it was so nice that my mom goes to bed early, then we have the house to ourselves. Amen to that.
She apparently didn't sleep for the second night in a row. Looks remarkably well-rested, though. I asked if she had things on her mind, and she said she did. I asked if she wanted to talk about it and she said she didn't think she ought to do that. I didn't need to hear what she really was thinking. Ok.
I want to honor my mom, but have to put the needs of my family more toward the top of the list. It's a hard balance. I find that afternoons are the real test of my resolve. My blood pressure tends to rise then, and only swift treadmilling puts that straight.
And it's not always anger issues, but frustration on my part. Feeling trapped. A subtle control on my mom's part with her getting very pitiful when she's not being entertained. That sounds mean. Ok, maybe it is.
Long term I don't think I can do this. I will crash.
Her health right now is stable. Mine isn't. She won't improve and as she gets older, will fail.
Praying about Plan B. There has to be one. Just now in the praying stage. Haven't even told my husband I can't continue long-term. He probably knows, it's just something I'm working on in my own heart.