Oh to be 40 again.....

I remember when I turned 29, I was a little depressed. When I turned 39, I was afraid my life was nearly over. Little did I know that one day, I'd long to be in my 40s again. I like to say that 50 is the new 30, but 51 feels like, well....51. (sigh) Oh the joys of menopause....excuse me, I mean peri-menopause because I am NOT over the hump yet. I am on the 24th day with my monthly visitor who popped in after not visiting for 7 months. My very precious compassionate MALE doctor prescribed me 14 days of Provera instead of an instant fix (D and C). PROVERA! (In case you are not familiar, this hormone makes you brutally honest and a source NOT to be reckoned with. Children shield their faces and grown men tremble in my presence. I could literally "go off" at any moment for any reason. My family, especially the precious princess, are not safe. Someone seriously should intervene on their behalf.
Now, in that frame of mind, I have to go to school and be a testing administrator. State testing is a very stupid archaic ritual that should be stopped but, I won't get on my education soap box at this time. Needless to say, I am stressed and my nerves are shot, and I am NOT NICE....and I am just loving being a nasty old crone. And that is only after 4 days of Provera.
All that said, Moma was a complete donkey's rear end today, but I let her live. However if she wakes me up at midnight tonight like she did last night in my bathroom with my self-tanner in her hand because she was "eeeeeeeeeeeeetching", there will be a funeral.

Back in time....

Random things I remember about my grandmother, when she was, indeed, my grandmother:

• She could grow any kind of flower, which is something I know I got from her. My mother didn't even like flowers.
• She always had a comment to make, which was usually inappropriate and hilarious (hmmm....sounds like???)
• She was passionate about serving God, in soooo many ways. She dedicated her new car (which we own) to God. She picked up little old ladies all over Alabama City and carried them to church.
• She loved to eat (still does). And HEY! so do I!!!
• She LOVED her dogs! (and loves mine as well) I know I got my love of animals from her. My parents were NOT dog people, and my sister would just as soon not be bothered.
• She bought stuff from the Jewel Tea man, Stanley, Avon, and saved green stamps.
• She taught me to jump rope, shoot marbles, and shoot a basketball. One of our favorite games was to bounce a tennis ball against her house and catch it. Of course, we could not do this when Pawpaw was home. The grouch said we were breaking the shingles. Ugh......
• She answered the phone "Joe Rumore!" and watched Dialing for Dollars every day! Her favorite soaps were Guiding Light, Secret Storm and General Hospital.
• She was my BEST FRIEND!
  

Hot cup of coffee

Moma has been trying her best to die all day. She has taken on like her heart was stopping. I am going to be so adjusted to these dying attacks that when she does die, I'll ignore her for awhile. I mean she is like the little boy who cried wolf. She dies a little bit more every time she has a dying spell.
After today's performances, she asked for a hot cup of coffee. I said, "Ooookay......" She barked, 'Well I got to have something!" So apparently, coffee is a cure for dying. Gee if doctors only knew.

Late night scenario

(Moma enters the kitchen and gets between me and the TV)
Her: Hey, I'm kinda hungry. Ye got anything to eat?
Me: Yes, hold on just a minute.
(She rounds the table toward the refrigerator)
Me: Sit down, I'll get it.
(I fix her a small bowl of cookies and cream ice cream)
Her: What kind of ice cream is this?
Me: Cookies and Cream
Her: It ain't good.
Me: Don't eat it.
Her: I'll try to
Me: Don't do me any favors.
(a little time passes-she continues to eat)
Her: Did you buy this?
Me: Yes
Her: Well, don't buy it anymore. It ain't no good!
(she shoves her empty bowl toward me on the table)
PRECIOUS!

Happy Birthday to Me!

Today I am 51 years old. YIKES! I used to think this was old. It's the new 31. I am happy, healthy, and not hungry (obviously) so life is good. God has been good to me. And I give him the glory for my happiness and everything good in my life.
HOWEVER.........this morning at 5:30, my alarm went off. I saw the light from my grandmother's room. Her door was open, so I lay there waiting for her door to close. Sometimes she wakes up and looks out to see if anyone is up. So I lay there waiting on her to close the door. I must have dosed off, because my snooze went off, and I hit the floor scooting. I heard talking coming from her room. It was rough, gruff, growly talk. "Get outta that bed! You hear me?? You're both married!" Now, you know I love nonsense, so I charged to the kitchen to grab the baby monitor. She barked at her imaginary visitors for a few more minutes, and then her door opened. She came into the bathroom with me and asked me about the cats. Then she went back to her room. I heard her talk a bit more and then I heard her say something about that "far" on the stove. The door opened, and I heard her walk out and down the hall. I caught her just as she was about to turn on the light and enter our bedroom where Kerry was asleep. I told her she could not go in there, and she said, "I've got to check on the far under those beans!" I said, "You are not cooking anything!" Good Lawd!!! She went nuts when I would not let her go. Without all the precious details, let me just say that a struggle began. She had hold of the door facing, and I was pulling her away from my bedroom. As I was pulling her away from the door, she whaled me in the face with her forearm and fist. I was fighting tooth and nail..she is strong for a tiny crazy old woman. She whacked me several more times, and I was a little rough with her, but she drew back that cane and threatened to "knock my damn head off". It was UGLY. It was tiring. It was not what I signed up for. I had to grit my teeth and use non-Sunday School words to get her in her room. She was still threatening me with the cane and cursing me about keeping my hands off her. She finally settled down and went back to sleep. What a great way to start my birthday!

Home again!

Ahhhhh I could have stayed at the beach forever! I never want to leave! The day we came home was (naturally) the best day. Kelli, Rebekah and Heather were my trip-mates, and we had fun! Didn't get much sun, but we laughed so much, my abs should be a bit tighter anyway.
Today, Moma has eaten so much I cannot believe she isn't puking. lol When she got up for her lunch at 11ish, she ate a banana sandwich. Then she said, "Julie, can I have a banana?" I said, "Right now?" She said, "Yeah! I don't know when I've had a banana!" (ooookaaaaaaaaay)
She is a hot mess.

Listen and Repeat

"What day is this?" "Is today Sunday?" "Julie, what day is it?" "Hey, what's today?" and that was just at breakfast this morning. I wanted to scream..."LISTEN! Repeat after me..." Ha! You think I am kidding, but I promise you it is no jest. This morning, once again, we are dying. You see, to my regret as well, it is cloudy, cool, and rainy. So automatically, this means......"I feel so bad". She has gotten really good at this little drama that she stars in. She has me questioning from time to time if she is really about to die. No, I am not being cruel. I know she is old. I know she probably does feel bad. But, even though, I don't speak math...I do recognize a pattern. Clouds, rain, cool weather, and a suitcase being packed will send her into a tailspin of despair. Yep, I am taking a few days to go to the beach to completely lose myself in the sand, surf, and ocean breeze. I want to read and feel that vacuum of being totally unconscious of my surroundings, except the previously mentioned. I need to clear my mind of the ducks that are still scattered and some totally lost. I'll line them up when I get home.
Beginning the first day of spring break with clouds and cool weather is not my idea of spring break, but I remind myself that this is the day the Lord hath made.....so....I WILL REJOICE AND BE GLAD IN IT.

Friday night.....

Hoooo boy! Moma was good last night so she could show her "hiney" tonight! She has argued, complained, and questioned me about everything. She is mad because there are no sweets here. She is mad because her chicken sandwich was hard. She nearly lost her mind because I refused her when she wanted to take the remains of her chicken sandwich (which was too hard) to her room to save. She started the age old argument about how she had dogs all her life and she fed them from the table and it didn't hurt them....and on and on.....
Then she said, "It's a shame my own niece don't trust me not to feed her damn dogs!" Nice.....I have a friend who would say, "That's a Smith!" (yeah, that's his last name! ha)

Little Pig Little Pig

Tonight, Moma ate like a pig at supper. I try to plan a fairly light or easy supper on Thursday nights because I am such a TV addict on Thursdays. She ate a hamburger steak, a small barrel of tater tots and 3 slices of tomato!
Then she went to bed and slept like an angel.
OKAY...WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE??? This in NOT normal. Ha!

Insurance

This morning after Moma finished her breakfast, she noticed an envelope that I had forgotten to put up that came in yesterday's mail. It had her name on it so of course she opened it. At first, I thought no big deal. She asked what it was and I told her just insurance stuff. But then as she read she found something that said it would pay on her some new glasses and the exam would be free! Enter Crazy Tail Miley....(the most bizarre of her personalities).
She ranted and raved about it for a few minutes and my reply was that we let Sherry handle all the insurance and medical stuff. She screeched at me that I should be helping Sherry! (okay....you LIVE with me). I tried to ignore as much as I possibly could. She rambled off to her room when she saw I was not going to get excited with her. In about 10 minutes, she appeared in the door. "Hey Julie.....call Sherry for me". I opened my mouth to argue, but stopped. Why should I savor all this idiocy? I should share it with my sister! So, I called and handed Miley the phone. She rattled on to my sister for a good 15 minutes, and I just sat back and enjoyed it. And mind you, it was sheer lunacy! Sherry must have promised her she'd come by and read it. So, off to bed with Miley.
In just a minute, I heard this on the baby monitor:
Help me Lord! Lord HELP ME! Sherry is all I've got.
Sherry! Sherry! SHERRY!!!! Help me....help me....
Help me......Why do I need help? Somebody......Somebody come tell me why I need help!
WHY DO I NEED HELPPPPPP?????????
Does anybody hear me??
Sherry......
I have hidden the papers! I may burn them.