Wednesday, February 1, 2017

{grumpy}

It's the strangest thing. When I walk past my mom when she's sitting in the living room, or sometimes peek in the bedroom, she'll be sitting with her feet flat on the floor, her hands on her knees. She'll sit that way for half an hour or more if we don't speak to her to interrupt her musing. She just zones out. Happens several times a day. Nothing new. Just thought it was worth mentioning.

She's all perky and chatty today. Forgot what she was mad at, and you'd never know she was so hacked off yesterday.  Talking in cliches today. This is her way.  Sometimes I think her brain reaches for what it remembers and Southern cliches seem to be the norm. This morning her cough is loose as a goose. Said it was as rough as the wreck of the Hesperus over the weekend.

Whatever.

Her seesawing moods tire me out. Today I'm not of a generous spirit.  You laugh. Am I ever?  Her bed was soaking wet when we got her up. Washed sheets yesterday. Thankful for a thick gelpad on the bed. Just have to wipe it with disinfectant. 

It's the endless sameness of her physical care. Changing a heavy, soaked diaper and still the sheets are soaked. Soaked. Only word for it.

For two days she's resisted using the portable toilet, (do you need to go? no) instead going after she gets in bed at night. Not sure what's up with that. Sorta fed up.

There's sometimes a rebellion like with a little kid. Manipulating, but we can see through it.
My husband reminded me last night that there can only be one Queen Bee. My mom had her chance. Had her own house. No longer.

Might peel outta here when oldest daughter gets off work. Haven't been out alone in way too long.

Take care.

2 comments:

Cathy said...

Breath in, breath out.
I struggled with the exact same feelings...and it is maddening!!!!

Charm and Grace said...

Still thinking of you, praying for you. I read back through a number of your posts. I know you must feel like a broken record, but I also know how much it must help to just vent. That is something my hubby doesn't understand -- venting, I mean -- but my 19 y-o daughter still at home totally gets it. So, we vent to each other. It's necessary. Glad you are allowing yourself to do that. Life is hard. God is good. Two truths that are sometimes hard to reconcile.