I gave up on the one from Christmas Eve....it was priceless, so I hate you are missing that. But, here she is trying to be cute and nice after telling Rebekah and me to "ram it up our asses". She wants the in-laws to think she is a precious princess. I was not amused nor entertained.

Not a good day

Moma has not felt good today at all. She can't tell me exactly what is wrong, but she has not been her usual "precious" self. So I am again going to try to upload that Christmas video for you. Be sure to listen at the end!

Well, shoot! Won't let me do it at all!!!! Grrrr......I'll be back.

Video Clips

Sorry it took so long to update about Christmas, but she is not easy to work with! :) This video was made at my mother-in-law's home Christmas Eve. I put Moma in front of the TV with that tray to hopefully get her out of the general family population. You never know what she might say. I kept thinking if she didn't keep her feet still, she would topple this little tray.

Where do I begin?

To say that Moma was bad this Christmas is an understatement. I posted on Facebook that some Christmases are by far better than others, but this would not be one of those. She has worked every nerve in my being. She has had every emotion and attitude possible. That may be the best way to begin.

Pity Party:
She began throwing her own pity party about a week before Christmas. "You gone have a big Christmas?" she would ask anyone who would listen. No matter their answer, she would respond with her nonsense about not having Christmas at all. She didn't have "no money" to buy anyone anything. (I bought gifts from her to everyone this year, wrapped them and handed them out. She bought gifts.) Because of her, I was in the midst of my own pity party but she kept crashing my party with hers. Please don't take this lightly. This was an everyday, every hour conversation. She also whined about wishing somebody loved her. She was not referring to us. She wants a MAN. She told me so.

Confusion:
"Hey Lady......"
"What day is this? (the answer) Whaaaaaaaaat???"
"Can I get something to eat? I haven't had anything to eat all day." (only 6 meals a day + snacks)
The nurse asked her what her father's name was. Her answer? "Jack" The truth? Cicero
"I can't find my teeth" (They are in your pocket, and why are you taking them out?)
"When is Christmas?"
"When was Christmas?" I said, "yesterday". "Yesterday? Well, I didn't know it! That's a fine way to represent Jesus' birthday! I didn't even get no presents". (because that honors Jesus)
"Why can't I feed this to the dog?"
"Julie, did you ever marry?"

Bossiness:
She  has told me how to do everything I have attempted in front of her. She is an expert on cooking, wrapping gifts, tying bows, (you already know she is a Christmas tree expert), cleaning house, YOU NAME IT!

Crabbiness:
I already reported her complaining about Joe and Wanda not putting money in her Christmas card.
She has not had any food worth eating.
We "hannel" her too rough. (if she only knew....)
She is freezing to death.
I had to fight her at the table Christmas night over my mother-in-law's white cranberry-walnut fudge.
She told Rebekah and me to cram it up our asses (in front of the whole family). Kerry intervened.

And to be disgusting for just a moment, she has wet her bed for an all time winning streak. I cannot tell you how many times we have changed her bed and her clothes. I cannot keep up with the laundry. Our clothes never get washed because I am constantly doing her laundry. Kerry is about to fire me as his wife because he needs colored socks (and has for weeks), but I am washing her clothes so much that I don't even care if our clothes get washed. AND the really precious thing is you have to run her clothes through the wash twice because the smell is so pungent that one wash doesn't get rid of it. How disgusting is that? I am almost done. She is going to outlive me.

Picture it!

I sound like Sophia on Golden Girls. But seriously, Picture it! Thursday morning on Lookout Mountain...got things to do and places to go. Alas, life has other ideas in mind. Hubby in the bed with throw-up virus (Yes, Kerry it is a virus, not food poisoning! Food poisoning doesn't last that long) I have a dentist appointment and Rebekah, the sleeper, is going to get up and watch Mildred. I bounce down the stairs to retrieve my clothes (because I have no closet, I use the laundry room....gave Millie my closet 4 years ago). I'm in a fairly good mood. Gonna pull out of this slump and get in the Christmas spirit! As I get to the top of the stairs, I see that Mildred is sitting up in her chair. All the bed clothes are in the floor. The smell knocks me to my knees. "Hey! I need some panties....." The urge to kill her is so strong. I resist. I go on and finish getting dressed to allow my blood pressure to stabilize. Then, I go into her room and glove up. I get a white trash bag and remove all the offensive smelly items. I put them in the bag which I toss onto the front porch. I get her up and make her wipe off, put on a clean diaper and gown. I get her a clean housecoat. I go promptly to the phone and cancel my dentist appointment. It is going to be a long day.
She wet the bed again later in the day. I wanted to make her sit in it, but thought better of it since the smell is so pungent I knew I could not stand it. I changed her bed, cleaned her up (liking her less and less), and went back to the holiday cooking that I normally LOVE to do (today, I don't). I don't like sick people or old people....how did I get myself into this?
Finally, just to make the day a totally precious hot mess, I gave Mildred a Christmas card that had come for her. She opened it. It was from sweet neighbors who were also great friends. She looked at it and said, "They could've sent me some money!" and tossed it on the table dismissing its sentiment.  She is the Grinch and I am Ebeneezer. Let's get 'er done and move on.

Sick little lady....

Moma is so sick with the crud, I thought I'd just share another one of her Christmas pictures, since there is really nothing to report!

Merry Christmas from the Paynes and Mildred!

Paranoia will destroya

Moma has developed a nasty cold. She is very hoarse and coughs a good bit. I hate to think she may get pneumonia or the flu again. She sounds very grouchy with her raspy voice, even if she isn't.
Last night I had to wake her up to eat supper. She came to the supper table very confused and out of it. She took note of the clothes I had hanging on the doorway drying. (Now, these were Rebekah's clothes; clothes for a YOUNG person). Moma said, "Is that my black blouse?" I shook my head. She repeated it louder. "IS THAT MY BLACK BLOUSE?" I said, "No! It is Rebekah's". She looked bewildered. "Rebekah's?" I nodded my head. "WELL WHAT HAVE I GOT?" she blurted out in her little squawky voice. When I asked her what did she mean, she responded, "Well I ain't got nothing!" I politely told her that I had washed Rebekah's things and was drying them in the doorway because I don't put them in the dryer. She still didn't understand, but she accepted it. Then, she said, "Who is going to sleep with me tonight?" I went through the whole conversation about her having her own room at my house and everyone having their own bed. She said, "Well, who has my money?"  (ugh, I hate this conversation) Again, I reminded her that her check goes straight to the bank and that we have to write checks when we need to pay for something (she is not ready for the debit card theory). She said, smirking, "Well, I need me some money. It's Christmas, and I like to have a little money". I told her that I understood but reminded her that I had purchased all the gifts from her, wrapped them, and we gave them out last weekend at our family Christmas party. She then smirked again, and said (in her most sarcastic voice) "Well I didn't get a DAMN thing!" I began listing the things she got. "Well, where are they?" This went on for quite some time. I was getting worn out just listening to her. But when she began to complain about how bad she felt, I pushed her medicine cup at her and said, "Take your medicine and go lie down if you feel bad". She jerked her head up and said, " You only want me to take all that mess 'cause you hope it'll kill me!" (WHAT?) I argued with her that I didn't want to kill her, if I did, I would have already. I told her that I really didn't care if she ever took another pill, that was up to her. Then, she did a reverse on me....."You don't want me to take it because I'll keep living!" (again, WHAT?) Good Lord! I told her that was not true and I only wanted her to take her medicine because that is what the doctor ordered her, but she could decide that. She said, "Tell me you want me to live......" I said, "Moma! I want you to live BUT if you don't trust me to give you the right medicine, then I don't want you to take it! Now, take it or don't, I'm through with this conversation!" She took it. I knew she would. She started back to her room and I made the mistake of offering her cough medicine. She screamed "NONONONONONONO!!! I'm going to bed!" Does she not  think that I am smart enough to know other ways if I really wanted her gone?? lol If it didn't wear me out arguing with her, I'd laugh.

Merry Christmas!

She is singing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas"!! What a character!!! Today....I love her!

Grrrrrrr.................

Got so much to do! Family party at my house Saturday night. Have no freedom to do the things I need to do to get ready. Does anybody care? Apparently, only me.
Today, I decided when I got home that the princess could just bundle up and ride with me to do  my errands. Today she decided that she cannot put on shoes over her sleep socks. Today she decided to be stupid. How bad does my life suck? B.A.D.

Martha's grouchy older sister

Have you met Martha Stewart's grouchy older sister? Mildred has been passing out advice like Martha does on her show, only it's NOT a good thing. She knows where best to place the tree. Because my dear sweet husband chose to redo our floor right here at Christmas, I figured we would just put the tree up in the living room, and not have one in the den, and since we gave our big tree to the Christmas light display at Noccalula Falls, I only have the pencil tree that I  normally put my mother's ornaments on in our living room. AND since Mildred has broken so many of my mother's ornaments, I bought cheap ugly ornaments from Dollar General for that tree. So anyway, I was getting the tree up when Mildred woke up from her catnap (She would not stay in the bed yesterday). She sat back and watched for a minute, and I knew it was coming....she began to offer her assistance. "Julie, why you gone hide that tree in that co-ner? Put it in front of the winder so people can see it!" I ignored her for a few minutes but when she began to scream at me, it was impossible to keep that up. I said, "I like it here because it is the first thing you see when you come in the door, and you can see it from the dining room windows at night". "Awwww. shit! You're too damn lazy to move the furniture, that's it" I kept doing my thing. Then she began to stiffen up like a 4 year old on the verge of a tantrum and then I heard "PUT IT BY THE WIIIIIIINNNNNNDDDDDDEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR" She held it our for so long, I thought she might pass out. So, in my most adult way, I looked at her and said, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" It was a good thing.

Disgusting

Okay friends, this post is disgusting.....just warning you!

Moma has peed on everything in my house. It's like having a new puppy. She pees on everything she sits on, she pees in the floor while standing up, she has even peed on my deck (Yes, she pulled up her gown and let 'er rip!). It is disgusting. My kids are complaining about sitting in wet chairs, and the smell! It's not like I can rub her nose in it and smack her with a rolled up newspaper, but trust me, I WANT TO!
Just now, she pulled off her wet diaper in my living room, and yelled at me to bring her some dry pants and a dry gown. She had chunked the wet diaper across the room and laid the wet gown on the other end of the couch (to spread the love). She was yelling "I ain't got on no pants!!!" like a proud peacock. My house reeks of urine and just plain nasty. I don't even have a desire to decorate my house for Christmas. (I did attempt to put up a smaller tree in my living room today, but that was a disaster. More to come on that)
So, if you love me, roll up a newspaper and come smack Mildred's nose, then....TAKE HER OUT!

My Trip

My trip to NYC is over, and Mildred never knew I was gone. She had no clue, I was not here. She is getting more and more "out there". I gave her a little trinket from NYC and she loved it! She said, "When did you go to New York?" Nice.
This afternoon, Connie met me at the door when I came home. I walked out on the porch as she was leaving talking to her. When I came in, Moma said, "What did she want?" I ignored her. She came into the kitchen with me and said, "Hon, what did that womern want?" I said, "Moma she didn't want anything. I was just talking to her". She said, "Well, who was she?" I said, "MOMA! That was Connie!" She said, "Connie who?" I said, "Connie is the lady who stays with you." She said, "Honey, that womern don't stay with me. I don't have nobody who stays with me". Great!

Never hit a lick at a snake

I have heard this phrase all my life to describe lazy people. But I realize now, that it is not just fitting for lazy people but for royalty too. Moma has bossed me all day. She wants it done yesterday. She wants it done her way. She wants ME to do it, whatever it is. At the breakfast/lunch/supper table, when she finishes with her meal, she will shove her empty plate/bowl at me. She pushes the empty pill cup toward me. She will even wad up her napkins and flick them toward me. She really wants me to clear all that right then. I want to shove it all back at her and scream "I DO NOT WORK FOR YOU!" It would be different (well, it might be) if she had worked hard all her life to make a way for her family. But no, she never hit a lick at a snake. She may have worked a few years at the cotton mill, but that was only until she snagged a husband. Her mother raised her children. Papaw even vacuumed because she couldn't push that heavy "vackum" cleaner for various reasons (hernia, hemorrhoids, etc.). She cooked, but only when she wanted to, what she wanted to REGARDLESS that my Papaw was a heart patient. She is the product of being the youngest child in a large family; spoiled by her father, her brother and her mother. Then her poor husband had to pick up the satin pillow and tote her. When he died, my father picked it up. When he was killed, my mother carried on the tradition of toting Mildred. Now she is mine. THANKS Y'ALL!!!!

Not a good day...............

Today Moma has been MEAN!!! Just plain mean. And apparently, I am a "damn liar" and the food I fix "ain't worth a shit". Want to wager a bet what my feelings are for her right now?

Hurry up and wait

Today has been a day of hurry up and wait. Moma woke me up around 8 like she was starving to death. I rushed to get her breakfast, then had to wait on her to finish. She eats so slow. She has to ramble through the paper while she eats, ask a blue million questions, and go through the daily (hourly) coughing spell of hacking up a lung. She gags, hacks and spits. It is seriously enough to make you sick. I have to busy myself with other things so as not to dwell on it. She finished eating and instead of doing her usual thing of going back to bed, she sat. And sat, and sat, and sat......asking the same questions over and over. Inside my head, I was screaming "I have stuff to do!!! HURRY THE HECK UP!!!" She finally got up and went to bed. I busied myself with changing the sheets, washing clothes, and other such necessary nonsense. While folding clothes at the dryer, I heard her get up. I curse, then dash up the stairs because she is not one you can leave alone. "Hey! Ya got anything to eat?" she asked. I tried to tell her that she had just eaten breakfast. She was buying any of that. So, we revisited breakfast. Same oatmeal, same coffee. And again, she sat. She asked the same questions over and over. I played with my iPhone to keep from killing her. She simply was not going to spend much time napping today. And so it was all day long. I am exhausted, and haven't gotten very much done.
New dilemma: Moma's pull-up type diapers are now too big. So, now when she wets one, she gets soaked because the legs are too big and they stand open. We may have to go to plain diapers. She will not be able to do that herself, so that will be another thing that we will have to tend to for her (with gloves, as she has MRSA in her urine). I am not happy about that. About to do some research to see if they make extra small diapers for adults. I tried the Good-nights for older children but her hip bones are too broad, they won't pull up. I welcome any and all suggestions. I do NOT want to start diapering her.

Downhill

Moma is in a downhill spiral. She doesn't rally back quite like she did. She will have moments where she seems more herself, but they do not last very long. She sleeps a lot. She is very confused and seems to be looking for something all the time. Tonight at supper, she kept looking for something. She said, "I had a....a....spoon, or something......maybe it was like a stick......I take it with me every where I go......I can't find it" She could have been referring to her cane (bionic arm) or the pencil I gave her today. Who knows? She is not even funny anymore. She is sad and lost. She is a shadow of herself. The nurse came to see her Friday, and told my sitter that she won't be with us much longer.
She doesn't even remember when and if she ate. She cannot remember taking medicine either. Tonight she said, "I've already taken this". I argued and told her that she had not. She said, "If I die, you'll know you gave me too much" and as funny as that sounds....it wasn't funny. I pray that God will not tarry. I pray for a peaceful journey to the other side. She will be so happy to be reunited with her mother, sisters, children and her husband. I want her to be happy. Am I being selfish?

Strange and unusual events

Today, Moma has been crazy. But not the usual crazy. She sleeps all the time now, but she got up for breakfast (11:00) only because I woke her. She ate and the very minute the last bite was in her mouth, she jumped up and started out of the kitchen mumbling "I got to go lay down". I followed her. She got in the bed and slept a good while, but hollered and carried on the whole time. She called her momma, Jesus, and me! She cried out, yelped like she was startled, and moaned and groaned. She got up a bit later and sat in her chair. She was saying, "one to three-thirty, one to three-thirty" over and over. I stood in the door, not 3 feet from her and she never acknowledged my presence. I went into her room and straightened her sheets, emptied her potty, and straightened up a bit. She never said a word until I started out of the room and she said, "Thanky".  Now she is wadded up in a wingback chair like a 4 year old. I just don't see this lasting much longer.

Ethel....YOU PUT YOUR CLOTHES ON!

Yes, our little version of "The Streak" woke Rebekah up this morning screaming! Rebekah went into her room, and there she was....naked as the day she was born. Rebekah and her brother were going to handle this on their own but could not find any gowns because Moma was "nekked" and they assumed she would have gotten one if there were any in the drawers. But, no. We are past the point of having much sense. So, they woke me up and when I went in there, she was already back in bed, covered up to her head, naked. She had gowns, and plenty of them. She had NO clue why she was naked. She could not answer any questions, and could not figure out how to put on her clothes.  She has really gone downhill in these last few months. She sleeps a lot and doesn't eat much at all.

Heat

This was Moma's conversation with her imaginary friends last night after she turned in.

Moma: Turn on some heat! What do you mean why do I want it on? I'm cold.
Don't just stand there! Turn it on! Get over there and turn on some heat! HEAT HEAT HEAT!!!!! That's it! Turn it on. Don't just stand there, like a dummy. Turn it on! Well, if you don't want to get warm, take your ass out in the yard!

Social Worker Session

Sometimes you just have to throw things

Today is one of those days that I need to throw things. So I just threw a handful of hangers across a room, but that wasn't good enough because nothing broke so I took a plastic one and threw it against the closet doors, and it popped into 2 pieces. I sighed, satisfied for now. To say that my life is a pile of poop is an understatement. If I could report on all the people in my life that make me crazy, this would be a REAL funny blog, but I have to keep peace with the group so I cannot report on their madness. My spirits were lifted this week when I got a card in the mail from my best friend in the world, Lisa Frazier Huffman. She is praying for peace in my life. Oh, how precious her friendship is to me. She will never know.
Let me report on the little princess' week. I had a substitute sitter Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Moma loves this gal, Penny. But Penny doesn't argue with her like Connie does. Penny lets Moma think she is right. (ha, wish I could do that). So the first part of the week was fairly uneventful. Thursday afternoon, I came home and the Hospice Chaplin was here. I never know what she might say to him, so I try to say within an earshot. She kept interrupting him while he was reading the Bible to her. He had no sooner got out of the driveway when the social worker called and wanted to come by. Moma had already gone and laid down so I told her YES it was fine for her to come! (Just my little happy, for all the misery she deals me). The social worker always sings and plays the piano for Mildred. She came in with a very hoarse voice saying that she could not sing, but she would play for Moma. But that wasn't good enough for the princess. She wanted both. So Cindy would start to sing, and Precious would say, "Can't nobody hear you, sing LOUD". She would not accept Cindy telling her that she couldn't. She would say, "You may as well hush, I can't hear you" "SANG LOUD" Poor Cindy then decided that she would just sing, and not play, so Mildred could hear her. "Can't you play that piano? Play and SANG!!" I recorded a bit of it, I may try to post it, so stay tuned.
Then today has been Paranoia Saturday. "Why don't you pour me some of that?" (Well, you don't drink Dr. Pepper, you said it burns your throat) "Why didn't you give that to me?" (What?) "That candy" (It isn't candy, it is a slim jim with cheese) "Well y'all sure did cut mime short" (We cut her sandwich in half) On and on.......She is in need of a road trip. Who wants her?

Rally

Yes, she  has rallied back. She will out live me. But the bad part is that she is MEANER than ever! And the scary part is that she seems to be more with it. Go figure........

A hoot

I came in from work Friday. The sitter had bailed, Moma was at Christopher's mercy. I heard her holler. I ran to her room and she was sitting in the floor. She had fallen. Why? Because busy tail was bent over trying to pick something up off the floor. She was not hurt. Christopher and I got her to bed.
Later, I was running around getting ready for a night out when I heard her calling me. "Help me! Julie!!! Help me" Thinking she had fallen again, I charged into her room. The princess was piled up on her new bed asleep. Grrrrr.....so loudly, I said, "Hey! What is all the hollering about?" She smiled sweetly and said, "I am waiting on a call from the church!" I had to laugh. Irony is funny.

Rally Cat

The rally cat has rallied back. She is up, mobile, alert, and nasty. Just so you know the score.

Down the spiral staircase

I feel like Moma is going down a spiral staircase. She is so crazy tonight, her speech is slurred, and she is in search of Jesus. She has asked me to help her find Him. She is moving very slowly, stooped over, and not at all spunky, like she should be. I cannot stand this state, and I hope it doesn't last long. She repeats the same thing over and over. "Julie, will you take care of me?" "Will you see after me?" "Keep a watch on that door and make sure nothing happens to me". Who knows what is going through her mind when she is saying that. Is she remembering what happened to her in November 2007? or is it just mindless jabber? There is one little funny to report. This morning when Connie went into her room to get her up for breakfast, the sheets and blankets were off the bed, and there she laid out FULLY DRESSED from head to toe. Wonder what in the world was going through that little head of hers? Who knows? I never heard a thing! Kerry Payne better get home in case she decides to drive off in the car next time! :)

Hospital Bed

Yesterday, Moma's blood pressure was 90/45. It is not much better today. This morning she got me up saying her mattress was wet. She had soaked the mattress in her sleep. So, now we have a hospital bed. There is something about this that I am not wild about. My sitter thinks we are at the end of our journey, and we probably are, but I know how she can rally. I expect her to jump up and raise hell about that bed about 6:00 tonight when I start my online exam. She is a rally cat, but I am just not sure. She looks awful, and eats nothing really.
All I can say is that IF it is the end, I pray that God won't tarry, and that she will go quickly and not suffer. I don't think I can stand to see her really suffer (not that fake stuff she usually does, that I can watch). She has sort of lost her spunk, and that in itself is sad. She is supposed to be irritating me, rambling through my things, and feeding my dogs coconut candy.
Say a prayer for God's will.

Rollers, Apple and Ice Cream

If somewhere deep inside you, you are worried that I may actually kill Moma......rest assured. I did not kill her today, so she must be safe. She has been awful today. It's like she has radar and she knows that I have MAJOR school work to do, so she wants to act up. I just flung a fit to end all fits so bad I took my blood pressure because I just knew I was bound to have a stroke today.
This morning, she was told that I was asleep, but she "busted" into my room anyway. "Juuuulie....dlks dlois lisne..." Nonsense. I sat up and said "What?". Kerry (my hero) came and got her and put her at the table. He fixed her oatmeal. I finally got up (don't ask what time, that is rude) and went into the kitchen to get my medicine and a Diet Dr Pepper. She began her round of questions. It's like being on a game show. Then she wanted her hair rolled. I told her that I would roll it. Finally, she went back and laid down. However, every 20-30 minutes, up she popped. I call days like this her Jiffy Pop days. And every time she gets up, she is brand new; has NO memory of anything that has already taken place. I realize that to you, it sounds so cute. The real truth is that it is very exhausting, and mentally taxing. Remember when your children were little and you longed for adult conversation? There you go. She finally took a good nap, and I was able to get a little bit of work done and laundry on the side. I woke her (yeah, a mistake) for her lunch. We ate what my mother used to call a "cold plate". We had a boiled egg, a pickle, a tomato, and some sandwich turkey. Moma had cheese because I can't have it (ugh, this diet). After we ate, I cleaned up, and headed back to the computer for more UA work. "Julie.....Juuullie" I wanted to scream. I went back into the kitchen. "Somebody said you was gonna roll my hair".  Sigh............I gave in. After gathering all the supplies for fixing her hair, we got that chore done. I have reported the details of rolling her hair before. It's like grooming a chimp. I went back to work, and she refused to leave the table. As I got my computer back up and began work, I heard "Julie, Juuulie.....JULIE!" "WHAT?????????????" She motioned and said, "Com'ere" I walked closer, breathing fire..."This roller came out, roll it back up" At that moment the urge to kill her was very strong. I had to hold my breath, roll up the wayward curl, and walk away. I no sooner sat down to my computer when she began beckoning me again. This time she wanted something to eat. I tried to convince her that she had just eaten, but that would not do. I cored, peeled and cut her an apple. When she finished it, she went back to her room, sensing, I am sure, her impending doom. When she got into her room, I heard her say, "Shit! I forgot my wheelbarrow" (her walker). She came out and headed back to the kitchen. I paid her no mind as I was working on my class assignments. The bellering began. "Julie......Julie......JULIE!!!!!!!!!!" I went to the kitchen. "WHAT???" I was not nice and had no plan to be. "I want something to eat". Dear God! She had gone to her bedroom and rewound. She was brand new. She had NO memory of that apple. I told her to sit down (well, I shrieked it). I reached into the freezer to get her a small cup of ice cream. She proceeded to let the dog in. I screamed "NO!" She said, "Well, he wants in!" (We put them out when she eats) I was so mad at that very moment, I wanted to hurt her! I threw the spoon and her and screamed various obscenities. I put the dogs in my bedroom and closed the door. I slammed the ice cream down on the table with a new spoon, and said, "HERE!" My blood was boiling! (It is getting up now just re-telling this). She ate one bite, and said, "Put this up, I can't eat it right now." Could I plead justifiable homicide? Will you write me while I serve my time?

I WANT MY WALKING STICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OMG! Today has been a day with the princess. She didn't get up until around 12 for her "brakfus". I fixed her oatmeal and coffee, but I was watching football and not paying her any attention. She complained about the coffee being too hot. She whined about the ceiling fan. I finally walked out of the room and left her sitting. When the Queen (Rebekah) got up, she volunteered to go to the store for me. Of course, she wanted to buy something; a cake mix and icing, for a friend's birthday. (There is always a motive). The little princess went back for her 1st nap of the day. While she was asleep, Rebekah baked her cake. But in the middle of her cutting out the shapes for the Aardvark Cake, guess who woke up? Little Mildred wanted some of the cake that Rebekah had baked. I cut her a piece of my mother-in-law's cake I baked Thursday night. She ate, but continued to harass Bek about giving her a little piece of the one she was fixing. "Your friend will not mind if I have just a little piece!" she kept saying. By then, Auburn had lost and I was in a fit, so I went to the basement for a therapy session of laundry and ironing. On the monitor downstairs, I heard them fussing back and forth. Then I heard...."AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
Rebekah was physically carrying Mildred to her room, and she was screaming like a 4 year old. I kept right on ironing. Christopher said, "What is that?" I said, "Let them fight, I am sick of her!" Rebekah put her in her room and held the door closed. Moma was  banging her cane on the back of the door screaming at her. Rebekah let go, and the door opened. Then I heard, "You hit me with that cane old woman, and your ass will be 6 feet under the ground! Go ahead! Hit me!" I never moved, just kept ironing. Then I heard Mildred began to beg. "Please give me my cane" "NOPE!" Rebekah said. This went on for a LONG time. When I came upstairs, she started begging me. She begged Christopher. I gave her the walker and tried to reason with her that she needed to use that anyway. It has been a long day of pleading or demanding for that stupid cane. I am trying to wait her out. She has fallen recently, and really needs to use the walker instead. She is finally in bed for the night.......I dread the morning.

Catch up

There is really nothing funny to report. Moma has been in bed a good bit lately. She is a tiny bit more feeble mentally, but physically, much more. She is dizzy and weak. The sitter says that she doesn't think she will last much longer. I find that hard to believe. She rode with me to get us supper tonight. She complained about the air conditioner the whole way. She is much more forgetful, but....that proves nothing really.

This is what Moma thinks about living in the country!

Chocolate milk anyone?

Tonight after supper, I was busy cleaning up, and I heard Christopher began a string of obscene words. I turned to see that Little Mildred had poured out over half of her chocolate milk in the floor for the dog.

Dear Lord,
Take me or her. Really....

Mean mean mean

Have you ever tried to have conversation with someone who is going to be negative, nasty and just plain mean about everything? MY GRANDMOTHER would have never been that way.....however, this nasty little woman.....well, she is a horse of a different color. At this point, she has told me to kiss her ass 6 times today.

Sunday at Gran's

Today we went to Kerry's mom's house for lunch. Moma behaved herself fairly well at lunch. She only fed the dog once, and attempted another but got intercepted. Kerry and I sat at the bar in another room. We wanted his family to be able to enjoy her all to themselves.  (lol)  After lunch, the Payne tradition is to go sit on the porch. We all went out and Mildred entertained awhile (video to come on her take of living in the country), but she got up and said, "Let's go" to me, and waved at the rest of the family and told them we had to go (like she was in charge). I got up and followed her in to clean up a bit. I didn't have to bring anything so the very least I could do was clean up. Moma went into the dining room where all the desserts were and grabbed her a chocolate cookie. "Can I have this?" she asked as she snatched it up. I told her yes, and was trying to lead her into the kitchen to get a napkin. She kept jerking away from me and yelling, "I want a napkin". She would not listen to me and could not hear me for talking herself. I was trying to tell her that the napkins were on the bar. Finally she jerked away from me and I grabbed her arm, and the cookie went flying into the air. It landed on the floor, and I snatched it up and chunked it in the garbage can and before I could think, I had my hands under her arms, lifted her off the ground and flung her scrawny butt on the couch. I wanted to kill her at that very moment. I grabbed her face like you might a child and said, "YOU CANNOT HEAR ME BECAUSE YOU WON'T SHUT UP TALKING!" and I pushed her back. She rared back her cane and said, "I'll knock the piss out of you!" I screamed, "I wish you would crazy ass!" Kerry came running and got her under control. I was shaking all over. I literally wanted to mash her face into the sofa cushions until she drew her last breath. I know that most of it is me, but she is getting so much more childlike that I dislike her more and more every day.
When we got home, she began nagging me about when was I going to cook supper. When we finally ate, she said she didn't want her roll. Kerry told her he wanted her to eat it. Then under his breath said "because the more you eat, the better the chances that you will choke". Meanness is catching.

Where is my Xanax?

Random noises coming from the living room
Me: What are you doing Moma?
Moma: Well this fell
Me: Well it didn't fall by itself; leave things alone, and they won't fall
Moma: Kiss my ass

There are SO many things that I would like to post right now, but I can't because I have to live with the people that I would be talking about (and not just my crazy yard gnome grandmother). Please pass the Xanax....and keep them coming!

Thief

I had some things stolen while I was gone. I just hate a thief! Thieves and Liars! Hate them both! However, this thief is about 4'10" and answers to the name "Come and Eat!" Yes, she stole several things from my living room while I was away (and in my mind, I still am). She just "wanted them to be with her". Okay......WTH?

Biloxi

Dear Moma,
I am in Biloxi with my husband....you know the one who makes you mind when no one else can. We are having so much fun! I  really don't want to come home, so pardon me when I SNAP your head off! I will be home when I get there. Don't hold your breath!

Time

We have now lost all concept of time. "What time is it?" I show her the clock. "But what time is it?" Sigh.....

This morning she knocked on one of our 3 bedroom doors. Kerry told her to go back to bed. She walked around to the other door and knocked again. She thought she had waited.

She  has lost the ability to grasp 1:45. You have to tell her "15 minutes until 2:00".

She never knows if it is morning or night. (Hello? Look out the window!)

I know I sound mean...(and I am), but it is really about time for the Lord to call her home. She wanders around my house lost. She still messes and rambles, but she is just a shell. My grandmother is gone. I am weary. Pray.

Huh?

Rebekah enters the room.
Moma: Wooooo Hoooo! Where you a goin'?
Rebekah: to rehearsal
Moma: Where?
Rebekah: to rehearsal!
Julie and Rebekah attempt conversation.
Moma: Julie, where's she a goin'?
Julie: Moma, she has play practice.
Moma: What? I didn't understand you.
Julie: She is going to play practice!
Moma: Oh.....
Julie and Rebekah attempt more conversation (including the passing off of hard earned money)
Moma: Becky, where you goin'?
Julie: MOMA! She is going to rehearsal!
Moma: a concert?
Julie: yeah
Time passes after Rebekah leaves.
Moma: Julie, where did Becky go?
Julie: TO REHEARSAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Moma: to a concert?
Julie: YES!
Sigh..........................................................

Threats!

Tonight, I was cooking fresh peas, meatloaf and frying fresh okra. Moma was under my feet driving me crazy! I do not handle cooking all that stuff by myself well. I didn't have an egg for the meatloaf, so I texted my friend, Cheryl, for a substitute. She sent me a link to lots of substitutes, not knowing I was elbow deep in ketchup and ground beef (gag), so I just plopped a spoonful of  mayonnaise in it. Cheryl nearly died when I told her. Kerry Payne did NOT marry me for my cooking/cleaning skills! ANYWAY......Moma found my granola bars I had bought for my breakfast. She wrestled one out of the box (destroying the box, I might add) She ate maybe 1/3 of it, then proceeded to wrap the rest up, like she loves to do. I reached for it, saying I'd put it up for her. She jerked the bar away from me, then stuck her nasty little hand in my face. I pushed her hand away, and it hit the refrigerator. She said, "I'll slap the shit out of you!" In my mind I said, "Do it and I'll flip you over backwards in that chair little missy", but what I really said was "You try it, sister!" I really needed to get my walk in tonight so that the visions of doing my family harm would be freed with my stress from my new job situation, but it didn't happen. If it weren't for the grace of God, I'd be a Mountain View resident!

Hypertension

If you were to check my blood pressure right now, I would be on my way to the ER (where my co-pay there has been raised to $150.00!!! Thanks to our legislators like Sen. Phil Williams who think teachers have had it too good for too long.....Hope you enjoyed this term!) I am experiencing this RAGE like when I took birth control pills many moons ago. I seriously want to kill everyone in my path......and guess who that includes? Little Precious woke me up BANGING, not knocking, BANGING on my bedroom door. "I want some breakfast!!!!!!!!!!!!" No details, I fed her. No talking, that is how I like it when I wake up, so I went to the laundry room while she ate. When I came back up, she was back in bed. NICE! I was thinking that this might be a good day. I started cleaning house and doing laundry like a maniac trying to divert this rage to a positive path. She got up and I fed her lunch. I vacuumed while she ate, hoping for the same scenario. But I couldn't  be that lucky twice in a row. She began to follow me, making her precious suggestions and "helping" me. She used her bionic arm to rearrange things. I was trying to get some of Rebekah's things from her college apartment put up since she won't be moving back into another apartment. I moved her chest into Mildred's room, (a) for lack of anywhere else to put it and (b) to give her more room to put some of her things (and she does love to ramble through a drawer). She went off like I had moved the deep freeze in there. Finally, I screamed in her face "I don't have anywhere else to put it, and you will just have to live with it, like I live with YOU!" From behind the bathroom door, Rebekah said, "Mother, calm down!" Grrrrrrr......(can't address her today). Then she followed me back into the living room where she made suggestions that basically would have had everything in the room shoved up against the inside wall so "there would be more room. (For what? dancing?) I told her no. As I began boxing books, she was using her bionic arm to prowl through a trash bag. Without batting an eye, I stomped over to her and literally jerked her up by her arm, and hauled her out of the living room, gritting my teeth, saying "Getthehelloutofhere!". It has been a day with Miss Mildred today, and I realize that part of it was me and my strange mood, but I feel my blood pressure rising just typing this, so I am going to let it rest. If you pray, mention me.

Lost as a Goose

Today, she is lost. Nothing more, just lost.

Mildred the Grouch (Oscar ain't got nothing on her)

Several times I have caught myself saying "I couldn't hate her more right now". That is horrible, but please note, it is a perfectly NORMAL feeling when you live with an elderly person with dementia. Don't guilt yourself out. Embrace it. I saw my former neighbor today, and she asked about Moma. "How in the world do you cope?" she asked. Without batting an eye, I said, "I drink". I should have added, "I cuss too". This past few days has been BAD. She  has been awful. I am just not up to sharing all the specific details, so I am going to list some things for you to illustrate her crabbiness.

• Sticking out her tongue at me every time I correct her.
• Put her fingers in her ears while Rebekah and I were trying to reason with her, and saying "nanananananananananananananananananananananaananananananana" 
• Griping about not having food as good as everyone else's. (She had a junior cheeseburger)
• Questioning why she was served tea and everyone else had Dr. Pepper. (I am the only one who had Dr. Pepper, my family drinks tea with meals. I don't like it.) I wanted to say, "Because I poisoned the tea!"
• Peeing in her pants on purpose and then screaming at me to get her some more clothes.
• Accused me of treating her like "she ain't got no sense". (She doesn't)
• Told the nurse not to believe anything I say because I am a damn liar.
• Also told the nurse that she felt "Won-da-ful" and when I questioned her about her dizzy spells and complaining of something being bad wrong, she said, "Awww I just tell you that".
• FeedingthedogsFeedingthedogsFeedingthedogsFeedingthedogsFeedingthedogs!!!!!!!
• Greedy more than ever with food
• Hit Shula with the cane when I told her not to feed him, and screamed "GET AWAY FROM ME!"
• Lied and told Rebekah that we had not gotten her a sandwich, wanting Rebekah to share hers. (Rebekah came in late from practice)
• Ate pizza that she HATES for spite because I told her she had already eaten when Christopher fixed his lunch. She took her sweet time eating, and looking at me with that smirk as if to say,  "Watch me"

There are several more things that I simply cannot remember because she is wearing me out. I have to go back to work tomorrow and dread it for the first time since I have been in middle school. But the ONE precious thing about tomorrow, is that Connie will be here and I won't (and Moma doesn't like Connie) SWEET!

The morning after

After Moma cleaned off the deck in her gown, housecoat, and Sunday-go-to-meeting shoes, she showed up at breakfast the next morning like this. I have learned not to even ask. She lives in a galaxy far, far away.

My Little Helper

Moma loves to rearrange things on the deck! She drives me crazy!
Note: Please don't miss the Sunday shoes! Don't ask....no clue.

Mildred Magoo

Sometimes, I can just look at Moma and realize that she is in her Mr. Magoo mode. I used to call it Millicent because back then she was just sweet but lost as a goose. Sweet no longer exists in any personality! Today after her 1st nap, she came into the den where I was reading, and patted my shoulder. "Hey Lady.....can you help me?" She had asked me this earlier when she had wet her clothes and entered the bathroom with me naked as the day she was born. So, cringing, I turned to look at her. Whew! She was clothed, but she said, "Will you see after me?" I nodded and motioned for her to sit down. She was quiet for a moment but then sat up and said, "JULIE! What kin are you to me and Sherry?" WHAT? Really? You live with me, but you remember my sister? Seriously? I told her that I was Sherry's sister. She said, "I didn't know that!" After a few minutes of silence (you could almost see the wheels turning), she sat up and hollered "What happened to my husband?" Being the smart-a** that I am, I said, "Which one?" She said, "How many did I have?" I said, "Several" She sat up and hollered, "Well where in the hell are they?" I'll admit, I almost had to leave the room on that one. I told her that they were dead. After a longer period of silence, she sat up and said, "I ain't got no sense! I'm a going to bed!" This was no news to me.

Just tolerating each other

My house is in full blown chaos. The living room is filled with Rebekah's stuff from her apartment, with no place to put it until she moves into dorm. I rearranged the furniture in the den and no one likes it. Christopher is in the process of getting his room together after 10 years of filth, sitting unfinished (and will for another 10). I have ignored laundry for like a month. So, it is a royal mess. (God forbid Moma die, and people want to come by to pay respects! I'd have to meet them at the door. But I do have Cheryl and Dawn on stand-by if that were to happen) Anyway....I'm a touch grouchy. I know what I need to do. I realize what I should do. BUT I DON'T CARE about any of it. (Enter major rehab and detox-not from drugs, from the junk I eat that is poisoning my body)
I said all of that to say this: Moma and I are just tolerating each other. We have each made it clear that we don't really like each other at this juncture. She cusses. I cuss. She yells. I yell. She demands and I....do what she tells me to (and raise hell in my head!)

Hand Maiden

As I have reported before, Moma thinks I am her hand maiden. She orders me around as if she thinks I have nothing else to do. After almost killing me with a massive stroke today, she got me again. She is FURIOUS that Rebekah has had the nerve to "load up that living room" with her things from her apt. She will be moving out in  another few weeks, and we have no other place to put them, so they are in my living room (in case you drop by). I heard her in there just fussing, so because I am tired of ignoring her, I stomped in there and let her have it. I reminded her that this is MY house, and we will put things where we damn well please. I mean I was really ugly about it. She marched to the den and sat on the sofa. I went back to Facebook. In a  minute, I heard, "Julie, Julie.....Julie, Julie.....Juuuuuuulie!" I stomped down there and she said, "Turn on the TV for me". I turned it to the gameshow network (entertainment for the elderly 24/7). As I started out of the room, she said, "You don't like me do you?" I said, "Right now, no.....I do not work for you. I am not your hand maiden. You expect me to drop everything and come running. I am tired of it." She said, "Forgive me", which is her standard answer. Just now as I sat down to update the blog, she bellowed, "JULIE.....JUUUUUULIE!" I got up and went down there. "What?" I asked. "What are you doing?" she asked, like I was 4. Ugh.....

Thursday? I love Thursdays!

Thursdays are my favorite days of the week! A) It's always been a good TV night B) I secretly begin my weekends on Thursdays, and C) I can easily slip in take-out on a Thursday with no questions asked (because I am NO cook). But Thursdays in the summer aren't quite so special due to re-runs and the fact that I try to slip in take-out or sandwiches as much as possible. Wife and mother of the year, I am not. And now, sadly, I am not granddaughter of the year either. It seems like I make Moma mad more than I try to (lol)
Yesterday, I had several little trips to make, and because of the times, they were all separate little trips. Moma gets furious with me for leaving now. Luckily, when I went to Dr. 10 (my Chinese Guru and chiropractor) at 10:00, she was still asleep. But when I went to lunch with my dear friend Trudie, she pitched the biggest hissy fit you have ever seen! I told her that Erin was here, and Rebekah was in her bed and Christopher was in his bed. I assured her she was not alone. She said, "Ain't none of 'em worth a shit!" Then later on that afternoon, I went to visit one of my kids who is in jail (and innocent, I believe), and I thought she was going to cry. "Please don't leave me alone! I feel so bad!" I said, "Go lie down". Her answer? "I'm afraid if I go to bed, you will leave me!" Good Lord! What next?? I hate to tell her but I go on enough guilt trips for the hubs and the kids...I ain't traveling down Guilt Road for her.

Mildred the Menace

Little Dennis has nothing on Little Mildred.  She has been a pistol ball this week (and it is only Tuesday!) Let's see....what has she done?

• She took her bionic arm (her cane for you newbies) and scraped the rust on my old milk can on the deck that we use to put umbrellas in. She scraped it so good, she knocked a huge hole in the side. When I questioned her, she responded, "I didn't do that!" Although I sat and watched her do it! I got her a broom and put her to sweeping up her little mess. She turned the can around so she couldn't see the hole.
• I was reading the paper and she kept asking stupid questions about supper (at 2:00 in the afternoon) so I just ignored her. She took her bionic arm and jabbed the paper so hard it hit my face, while screaming "HEY!!!" The urge to kill was overwhelming.
• She was rambling in everything and I was going to use  my diversion tool. I poured her a huge glass of chocolate milk and suggested she have it on the deck. She was delighted! She sat down and began using her bionic arm again to move something that in NO WAY affected her, and yes, you guessed it. The chocolate milk spilled! Precious. 
• I caught her feeding coconut candy to the dogs. I asked her where she got it. She said, "Oh, I have had this". Later, I noticed that she had ripped open the new bag I had just bought and thrown it back up on the refrigerator. I am sure she used her bionic arm to get that down.
• In front of my 12 year old great niece, she screamed "Why in the hell are those damn flags on?" She meant ceiling fans.
• Saturday night Sherry brought her a BBQ sandwich. She loves them! She was so excited until Kerry brought in our supper. She pitched a bloody fit because he didn't bring her anything. 
• Sunday night, we got Jefferson's take-out. Everyone ordered something different. I split my chicken finger basket with her. She pitched a fit (a) because she didn't get a whole order and (b) because Christopher wouldn't give her a chicken wing. Then she screamed at Kerry because he was fussing at her and she said, "Well look what you've got! I didn't get that much!" But she would NOT eat it if we had given it to her. UGH! She is a 4 year old!
• This morning, I fixed her breakfast because she cannot wait (oatmeal) but I made strawberry muffins for Erin and me. I had planned on giving Mildred one if she wanted it. When I put 2 on my plate and 2 on Erin's plate, I gave her 1. Normally, she'd want me to cut that in half. She responded, "Oh I guess I don't get 2". Then while I was getting out the butter to slather them up (yum), she said, "Put some butter on mine" before I even had it out good. Patience is a virtue that Mildred has never possessed. 

So, today, I am going to try to endure everything she dishes out. I'll just dream of August 10th when I go back to school! 

Yes, I am Fat!

This morning while getting ready for church, I heard Moma's door open. She peeked into the bathroom and said in her most polite voice "May I have some breakfast?" I answered her affirmatively and opened the door to the bathroom. My robe was open a tad, and as I went to secure it, I heard, "MY GOD I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WAS SO FAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" in her most judgemental voice. I hate her.

Video

If I was a cruel person (and many of you do think that, lol), I would post the 3 video clips that I shot of Moma having a dying spell yesterday. The funny thing is she kept hollering and finally I asked her, "What is wrong?" She kept slapping her chest saying "Something bad....." but no detail. You see why it is hard to even have empathy for her. No clue what the problem is. But, she said, "Pray for me!" in her little demanding, demonic voice. I said quietly, "Lord, take her home!" She sat straight up and said, "What'd you say?" I asked her if she wanted to go home to be with Jesus. She said, "No, that is what YOU want! You don't give a damn about me!" and crossed her arms, flung herself against her pillows and began bellowing "Help me Lord!" over and over. I did feel a little guilty but not guilty enough to stop me from making a video for my personal entertainment. I have to laugh or I'd run out the door pulling out my hair and screaming! :)

Back Home

I had the most awesome, relaxing trip! I did not put on make-up, clothes (well, except my bathing suit or pajamas) or shoes (except going to the beach), in fact, I did not leave the condo but one time to go with Cheryl to get a pizza. I watched old movies, laid on the beach, read the same paragraph over and over because there was just too much going on  around me on the beach, and ate! I ate things that I haven't eaten in a long time. In fact, it was our goal to eat every 2 hours at least! So much fun! I am so thankful to have friends like Cheryl! We did quite a bit of aerobic laughter!
We rolled into my driveway about 2:30 yesterday. Moma was asleep. Connie left and Rebekah and I caught up. Enter Moma. "Did you have to work today?" She had no clue that I had ever left the building. Precious. She had her confused hat on big time. She didn't really know why she was here. Sad.
This morning, she got up screaming "Somebody's dead! Who is it?" Lost as a goose.

Part 2? Ain't happening....

Sorry I never posted Part 2. It was a doozie! She nearly drove me completely insane that afternoon. Long story short, I took a long nap. She woke me up after MANY attempts. I was foggy, she was talky.....I took her "ridin'" because she wanted to go in the car. I seriously cannot even remember what all she did. But she did a lot!

Now....Monday morning bright and early, she got up to eat. I was getting ready to go to the beach for a much needed break. She ask no less than 32 times where I was going, who was going with me, and when I'd be back. But what she really wanted to know (all these questions led up to) was who was going to be there with her? I answered her every time she asked. My sitter was supposed to be there at 8:00. At 8:25, I called her to see if she was on her way. No, she wasn't because she thought she was supposed to come at 10:00 (huh?) So she promised to be on her way momentarily. I promptly went downstairs and woke up Christopher. He came upstairs and went straight to my bed. Moma looked in there at him. "What's he doing?" she asked. I explained, "He is going to stay with you until Connie gets here". "Shit!" she said. He won't pay me no 'ttention!" Smiling, I asked "What kind of 'ttention do you need?" She screamed "I don't need nothing!!" She was mad as a hornet. I asked her what her problem was and who she was mad at. She answered, "YOU! You running off and leaving me!" I said, "Moma, you will be fine. I will see you Thursday!" Snarling, she said, "You might and you might not!"

Pictures

 Here she is with her milkshake on the way to get Christo at work!

Payne Family Reunion

I think I have clarified this before, but for my newer readers....Moma was a Payne before she married. I am married to a Payne, but as far back as we know, there is no relation.Of course, I love the ancestry thing, so I realize that WAY back, there is a connection, but hey! too far to count. Anyway, this is Moma's family reunion.

Moma got up at the crack of dawn this morning. I purposely had not told her about the reunion so she wouldn't drive me crazy. But we swear she has radar, so she must have known something was up. I got her breakfast and she ate and began her usual hacking, coughing and hocking up junk. I ignored her because this is just what she does in the morning. Then she began to holler that she was bad sick and had to go to bed. I got her to her room, and she started puking. Nice visual for the a.m. I resolved that we would not be going to a reunion, and went back to lie down. Within 30 minutes, she was up, bossing and complaining. I heard her coming saying, "Where in the hell are they?" She wanted (wait on it) breakfast! I talked her out of it and offered her a banana. She ate it, very childlike, and said her head was crazy and she had to go lie down. I went ahead and sent my sister a text and said that we would probably not be at the reunion. She was carrying on like she had severe pain. I was almost fooled. I decided to go ahead and get myself ready and then try to convince her to go down there for a little while anyway. So, once I was dressed and ready, I went into her room and got out one of her new jackets and skirts. She looked up and said, "What's that for?" I told her that she could wear that to the reunion. She said, "I'm going just like I am". I nearly fainted. "You are?" She said, "Well, you're going like that, then I'm going like this" I was dressed in nice shorts. I gave in, "Okay". I grabbed the essentials and got her up. She asked, "Where are we going?" I said, "To the family reunion" She snarled her lip, "Shhiiiiit!" (nice). It took some doing but I finally got her in the car, all the time answering the same question and her response was likewise the same. We got to the venue, and the outside of it has a pavilion attached. There was a Black church having a picnic. "Good Lord! Am I related to all them niggers?" (Forgive me!) My sister met me and we threw her in the wheel chair and hustled her in the back door by the bathroom and drink machines. Of course, everyone came running to her and she was in her element. The royal smile, queenly nod of her head....it was a show to behold. These people, my relatives, have no clue what a 4 year old autistic child she is. They are talking "big talk" to her. She nods and smiles (has no clue what they said). Sherry fixed her plate and we got her settled. Now, I will be honest, she was in good company, so I left her totally in their care. I sat a mile from her and chatted with a cousin. I laughed and hugged necks and ate more than a grown woman should consume. My cousin and I critiqued the rest of the clan. It was already a full day. Sherry had Moma's food wrapped up for her "take home", but they were hollering for pictures. Moma nearly had a heart attack because I left her food on the table. I said, "My purse is there with it! It is fine!" But the whole time, she was craning her neck to see her plates (yes, with an S). After pictures, I asked her if she had enough to eat. Her response? "I haven't eaten a thing! When are we going to eat?" I laughed as a cousin walked up to her. She proceeded to tell him that I was trying to get her to leave without eating, but she wasn't going nowhere 'til they fed her. (Urge to kill) When we finally got ready to leave, she about drove me crazy about that dang food. Did I have it? Was it wrapped up? Did we leave any of it? I couldn't get her in the truck fast enough. ( I won't go into why I had to drag her 3 football fields to the truck because of Kerry's rude employee. He has NO clue that I am the first lady of Parks and Rec.) As I got into my truck, Christopher texted me to come get him at work (he has tire issues that are making me tired). So off we went. As we got close to the mall (and all the eating places), Moma requested a milkshake. So, in to Chik-Filet I pull. $5 later, we both had milkshakes (and I was already stuffed). We got to Belk's to get Christo and she kept asking stupid questions and I had a nature call. I was getting antsy, so I made Christopher drive home. MISTAKE. He made every fast turn, hit every bump, AND STOPPED AT JACKS FOR A BURGER! I ran in the house when we got home and left him to deal with her. Then I took a much needed nap. This is only Part One. Stay tuned for Part Two.

Okay, a good one

I had a friend tell me recently that I needed to post more positive things about having Moma live with me, and stop being so negative. She said people would think I was mean. Okay, so here are the Top Ten Reasons that having Moma here is a good thing:
10. My sitter washes the dishes.
9. My kids have become a little more responsible.
8. I can keep my "sweet" memories close.
7. Her vision is better than mine, and she can help find my contact when I drop it.
6. With her here, I hardly ever have to put my dogs in a crate (except at night).
5. Having her here justifies several beach trips a year.
4. Keeps me on my toes about leaving food out. (That's a reach but it's the best thing I could come up with).
3. Nobody expects much of me because "I have Moma".
2. She is the basis for most of our laughter.
1. Helps keep Kerry off my a**! (I love you honey!)

Grace

I came up stairs with her laundry in tow, when I heard, "Hey Kerry.....where's Julie?" I wanted to run, but I didn't. He said, "She is in the basement doing laundry." She said, "Well I need somebody to put something on my arm.....I fell out there". GREAT! I charged forward to check it out. She has no skin on the elbow area of her arm and the knee on the opposite side. Grr....I said, "Moma, you do not need to be out on the deck by yourself at dark. You can't see well enough at that time of day!" She said, "Well, I didn't know my head was crazy." SERIOUSLY???????????????????? All she had to do was ask. We all knew.

A day late and a dollar short

Seems like lately, I am always one step behind. My mood at the present is dark. My principal has been transferred to another school. I have a hard time with change. More than likely our assistant principal will be moved as well. This really hurts because he is one of my very best friends! What is it about change? We seem to resist it unless it was our idea (This change would NEVER have been my idea) I am a status quo person. So, I am wallowing in this.
Yesterday morning, Moma woke me up asking why I was still in the bed (@7:00).  Her next question is always "Are you sick?" I said, "no, not sick". She said, "Well I know one thing. You are heart sick because you love someone who isn't here. I understand, I've been there". WHAT DOES THAT MEAN????????????? I mean, is she forecasting the future?  Does she know something that I don't know? It made me feel all creepy inside. Any ideas?

Marathon

Moma has been on a marathon today. She just finished the 23rd mile of her EATING marathon. Every time I pass her she wants something else. Please do not be mislead to believe that she was happy with ANY of the food offered. The only thing she hasn't complained about is the banana (23rd mile) because she knows I could not have done anything to the banana. All this plus the typical complaints (Turn off that damn ceiling fan! I feel worse than an old booger man! Why can't I feed the dogs?). I'm thinking if she gets up....I may lure her to the deck and lock the door again! That's the best thing I have ever gotten over on her. And she would be fine out there. There is a roof, lights, TV and even a fan (well, she won't need the fan). I'll lock the cat out too just to keep her company. :)

Locked Out!

I forgot one little detail about yesterday's fiasco. While Sherry was here, and Moma was doing her popcorn appearances, I was so outdone with her causing me to get in and out of the pool, I locked her out on the deck. She cannot be left in the house alone unless she is in her room asleep. So, on one of her last treks out on the deck, I just went in the other door, and locked her out there.
When she got ready to go in, she was FURIOUS! But I just lied and said, "You must have locked it when you went out". LOL Don't call DHR.

And I thought yesterday was bad

Moma woke me up with gun shot....well, it sounded like gun shot. She bangs that %$&* cane on my bedroom door every morning. This morning there was a hint more gusto to it. I shot out of bed like there was an air raid. I couldn't decide whether to go to the bathroom, let the dogs out of their crates or kill her first. She wanted diapers. She goes through them like she does napkins. I knew that she was going to be on her game today.
Sherry came up to lie in the pool awhile, and Moma was up and down, and up and down. I was dizzy with all her activity. She wasn't getting enough attention so she had to be a smart you-know-what. She wanted chocolate milk, then ice cream, then a glass of ice water. She hated her lunch. She "couldn't eat it" (who knows why). She said my tea wasn't worth a shit and she never wanted any more of it. She finally went back to bed.
When she got up again, Sherry had gone. Moma was looking everywhere. She said, "Where'd they all go?" I asked who she was referring to (for my entertainment). Her answer: "Verlon" I exploded in laughter. I said, "Who??" She said, "VERLON! That lady who was in the pool with you". Lovely. I said, "Moma, that was Sherry." She looked at me like I was crazy. Then she asked.....(wait on it) "Did they come by with my payday?" (What?) I just shook my head and said, "no". She said," Well I know I was supposed to get a payday today!"
The rest of the evening was a repeat of her popcorn appearances. I finally had to just make her mad to get her to go to bed. She told me that she thought I would be a much more loving niece than I am. HA! (Don't any of you "aunts" out there get any ideas, you are NOT living with me).

Clouds

Moma is in the clouds this morning! I am sitting here listening to her tell craziness to the nurse. The nurse asked her who some of the pictures in her room were. Well, apparently my mother was her MOTHER-IN-LAW! And when the nurse asked her whose house she was in, Mildred proudly told her that her husband's people lived here. When she asked "What about Julie?" Moma said, "She may as well live here, she stays here all the time!" NICE! Who the heck am I?

Thursday Update

Two Words:
LOST
CONFUSED
That is all....

Life wearing rubber gloves

I don't think I've mentioned lately about my germophobe thing I have going on. I won't touch the toilet or sink in MY bathroom without rubber gloves. Moma has MRSA in her urine. To me, this is defined as, on her skin, under her fingernails, on her feet, in her mouth, behind her ears, all over her scalp, and obviously, her hind quarters. I also understand that anything she touches, looks at or thinks about will have the MRSA cooties. I do not want MRSA cooties, so I wear rubber gloves when I do anything involving her or anything she has looked at lately.  My sister insists that only her urine is toxic, but no, that doesn't register in my way of thinking. I am fighting cooties every day. So if you come to my house, and I am wearing rubber gloves, don't be alarmed. I'm doing cootie warfare.

Confession

Okay, I will admit it! I have been a pool rat for about 3 days straight. No laundry, no dishes, no picking up, no straightening up, and certainly no cleaning. I  went from pajamas to bathing suit and back to pajamas several days in a row. Yes, I am a girl of summer. Had the latest book from my favorite author, had my float, my drink, and my oldies blaring on the radio. My hat was in place, my sunglasses right.....and there I was. A pool vegetable. It drove Moma crazy. She would come out on the deck and chastise me. She commanded me to get out of the pool several times, but soon learned that does not work with me. I mean, I will have to seriously work next week to make up for all the stuff I didn't do this past week. It is my little escape. And I have abused it. :)
Yesterday, the Princess was bad to the core. I caught her feeding Tubby and scolded her. As soon as I turned my back, she reached in the other pocket and fed Shula! Once again, I gave in to the rage in my head that was screaming "KILL HER!" I grabbed the napkin out of her hand, and began strip searching her for other little "treasures". She was fighting me tooth and nail. I was so mad there was no way she would win this one. I was in beast mode. She kept threatening to slap the shit out of me. Then she reached for the cane. She swung it, handle first, at my face. I felt the breeze whiz by my nose. Thank goodness Christopher stepped in and took the cane. She called me a damn bitch. I wrestled her up and literally ran her back to her room. She wanted her cane. Everything at that point is a blur. I was operating off sheer adrenalin. I had to get away from her. I went outside, and in just a minute, Kerry came out and said, "Listen to this". She was screaming and crying like a baby. I was a  wreck. I went into her room and tried to talk to her. I finally got right in her face, nose to nose. I told her that she had better listen to me and stop crying. I explained to her that if she ever chose to actually hit me, that would be the end of her living with me. I would take her to the nastiest nursing home I could find and leave her. I wouldn't tell anyone where she was either. I told her I would find one where no one would give a shit about her and she would be all alone. (I was all Godfather at this point). She started telling me she loved me and she would not ever do that again. Then she was repeating herself and I was almost out of my skin anyway. I had to walk away. I told her to sit right there until I came to get her for supper. She promised faithfully she would. HA! She was up in a minute looking for her cane. I sent her back, and she got up within 3 minutes, again, looking for that cane. Finally, I gave up and sat her at the table with me. Then she began her "Helpme" song. I just get so tired of the status quo here, I am tempted to just run.

Honestly...

I set out to make this an honest account of life with an elderly, demented person who comes to live with you. I am afraid that is not going to happen. However, if I could be COMPLETELY honest, I could share with you about all the other people who fit into this equation that make life equally as tough as Mildred does. But, they aren't elderly, nor demented, so to keep the peace, I'll keep that part private. But if I could share, this would be a million dollar book in the making. If you think Mildred is crazy......

Dave Thomas is a trouble maker

I remember the first frosty I ever ate. I dipped my french fries in it and it was sooooooo good. I was hooked. But as time has gone by, I recovered from that addiction. But apparently Moma has not.
Today has been a crazy day to begin with. I had to get up at 6:45 to get ready and take Brady to summer school. Moma was up piddling, so I made her ride along. Of course, we had to stop at Jack's and get breakfast. (ChaChing $7, for how dare I go home without one for the Queen and the Prince). As usual, I pulled over in a parking lot close by to let Brady eat before he went into school. Moma kept saying...."What are we waiting for?" I reminded her (several times) and her response every time was "I want to eat too!" After we dropped Brady off, we headed home. I fixed her coffee and biscuit and then she went back to bed. About an hour later, I had to take Son to meet his boss for a work-shop. I had to drive to nearly Jacksonville. I left the Princess in the Queen's charge for 30 minutes. I returned home from that to have about another hour before I had to go back and get Brady. I had promised the Queen that I would bring her lunch to her when I got him, so we headed out a little early. While in route, the Queen sent a text hinting that her usual Happy Meal would not be sufficient today. (Sigh) We picked Brady up and went off toward East Gadsden to get the Queen a salad. I decided to run by my school (which is in East Gadsden) to drop off a few things that were crowding up my back seat. On the way back, we stopped at Wendy's. This whole entire time Moma has asked a thousand questions and repeated them over and over. Lucky for me, Brady was talking and I could ignore her easily. (Here comes the kicker). I asked Moma if she wanted chicken or a cheeseburger, and she chose a cheeseburger. I pulled up to the speaker and placed our order. Both Brady and the Queen had ordered frostys. When I got our food, ($13 ChaChing), I pulled to the exit. Traffic was horrible as it was lunch time. When I finally got out into the left lane going toward City Hall, Moma looked down at the cup holders and said, "Which one of these is mine?" I shook my head...."Neither, I didn't order you one". She yelled, "Why in the shit not???? You knew I wanted one!!!" I said, "No, I didn't! (should have known better though) Moma, we have vanilla ice cream at home. I'll fix you some." She was still miffed but said nothing. As I drove, she picked up both cups several times and turned them around as if there was a novel written there. I ignored her. But after we dropped off the Queen's order at City Hall. She picked up Brady's frosty and kept messing with it, then stuck her nasty finger in it! I said, "Hey, don't put your finger in there" She said, "I orta throw it on you for not buying me one. You knew I wanted one". Rage took over. I hit the gas and said, "Let me go get you one right now! I hope you choke on it!" I flung her sandwich in her lap, and said, "Here's your sandwich". She knew I was mad, and Brady was a little shook, because "JuJu" doesn't usually get mad. My blood pressure was sky high, and I was about to have a stroke. She began to rub my arm and say, "What's wrong?" I screamed, "DON'T TOUCH ME! I am not playing your stupid game (but obviously I was and I was losing)" She said, "Well you can just KISS MY ASS! And I don't want this damn sandwich"  She threw the sandwich back at me. (All this nice behavior for my precious great nephew-mine and hers). I flew in Wendy's on 2 wheels. I handed Brady his food which I had planned to make him wait until we got home. I ordered her frosty and me a Diet Coke. Then I pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot and parked and began to eat my food. She opened her frosty and started eating a little. When I unwrapped my Single with Cheese (which was pretty awesome, Dave), she said, "I thought you ordered me a sandwich" Little Brady spoke up and said, "You didn't want it Moma".  I repeated that for her. I ate and didn't give her a second thought. She said, "Well, I don't want this." and closed up her frosty. I never budged; kept eating in peace. She said, "I'd be ashamed" and turned her head away from me. The urge to throw open the door and push her out of my vehicle was so strong, I rushed to finish my sandwich and crank up before I acted on it.
Now we are home, and she has eaten her sandwich and is sleeping like a baby, while I tend to my paralysis from my stroke.

Happy Birthday Sherry and a Post Retraction

Yesterday was my sister's birthday. She is 59!! (a good 7 years older than me) I knew there would be no bells and whistles awaiting her at work or at home, so I planned a "cocktail party" for her. It was a great excuse to make party food, and my family was all about having it for supper. The little princess nearly drove me crazy wanting to "mess" in everything I was doing. I caught  her about to stick her finger in the dip for a taste. She is so nasty. She begged for a bite of everything we had. I finally had to say that I would go ahead and fix her a plate if she couldn't wait for Sherry to get there. I guess that shamed her because she opted to wait.
Sherry finally arrived and we were about to dig in. I went to get Moma out of the bed so she wouldn't feel as if she'd been an afterthought. I set about fixing her plate when she announced "I guess we are just supposed to help ourselves!" Patience is not one of her gifts. "I am fixing your plate. SIT DOWN!" I barked. Sherry and I got our plates and proceeded to talk and visit like we always do, and of course, the princess felt left out. She would interrupt, cough, hack, spit, stomp her feet, etc. to get our attention. She offered everyone the food left on her plate (because we want her sloppy seconds?). Then she began her act of Iamgoingtofeedthedogwhilesheain'tlooking! I was ahead of the game. I took her plate and napkins (that were full of tidbits) and put them on the counter by the sink. I cut her a nice large slice of birthday cake with tons of icing. I have become pro at diversion tactics. She ate, and all but licked her plate. Within 5 minutes, she asked "Ain't you got nothing sweet?" We reminded her that she had just had cake. "Aww, that ain't sweet!" So, I reached up on top of the refrigerator and got her 2 pieces of her coconut candy. Thinking she would be satisfied, I turned to Sherry and continued our chat. I heard something and saw the dogs (who were trapped in the den by a dog gate) eating. She was tossing pieces of her candy into the den for them. I snatched what was left and the bag and threw it away. I was screaming at her and stomping around the kitchen. I wanted to kill her and it was quite plain to everyone in the room. She tried that innocent "I didn't know" routine, but then referred to the "stupid" sign that I have posted about not feeding the "damn" dogs. I said, "That's fine. You just spited yourself! You won't get any more". She was turning red and screamed, "You won't get no more!" lol She was so mad she couldn't think straight.  When I settled down and began putting things up, she said, "Give me some of that watermelon". (Pardon my French) I said, "HELL NO!!!!! You are not getting anything else this night! Go to bed!" She got up and started out of the room, and turned back to say, "You cram ever-bit of that watermelon up your ass!" Good Lord.....................
***Post Retraction***
Apparently, I heard my precious husband's comment wrong the other night, and he is demanding a retraction. His version: "If you don't slow down, you are going to be wanting lap band surgery, and you can't have that and go to school too" Any mention of lap band surgery to a menopausal overweight woman is the same to me. But that is okay, I love you anyway!  All kidding aside, I could not make it without him and my kids! We are all suffering through this journey with Mildred together. In my book, Kerry Payne is awesome!!

Still on the Healthy list.....

Moma is still "healthy". She did have a headache today at lunch but not bad enough to keep her from hiding food and sneaking the cat a bite. She snatched it when I tried to throw away her paper plate. Nothing like an old woman with attitude. The urge to kill her today hasn't been all that great, but I feel a real "mess" coming on!

Miraculous Healing

I am not sleeping these days (or nights). There is something that just simply is making me crazy when I lie down. It could be the chlorine from the pool drying out my skin (or maybe I'm allergic to it). It could also be my age (yeah yeah). Then again maybe it has to do with the fact that I am at least 45 pounds overweight. And after my precious husband's comment last night about my needing lapband surgery, there is that  self esteem thing I've been fighting for 52 years. The minute I lie down, I begin to itch and have a general feeling of restlessness. I toss and turn. My mind races and I begin making lists mentally. And the cover is too much, but I need it, so I throw covers back and forth. It sucks. My friend gave me a funny quote yesterday that goes like this, "Embrace the suck". I DON'T WANT TO. I want to sleep. I have NEVER had trouble sleeping. I hate this. So, I say all this to say that last night I finally got up to allow Kerry a good night's sleep (why?) because he had to get to an event early this morning. I read for about an hour, then tried to relax. My mind was shutting off, but my body was still fidgeting. I went to the couch and laid down. I finally drifted off to sleep. So this morning, bright and early, Moma who was miraculously healed of her dying state woke me up with a rap on the ankles (using her bionic arm a.k.a her can) to let me know that it was time to get up. Then she proceeded to order her breakfast. I did not sign up for this.......

Odd Irony

Today, I helped Bek write a paper for her Am. Lit class. It was a compare and contrast of 2 story characters to today. They had experienced (or suffered, choose your word) role reversals much like mine and Moma's. As we worked on this paper, I began to see the big picture. I've heard all my life that what doesn't kill you will make you stronger. I am much stronger than I was 21 years ago, when my precious Daddy was killed in a car wreck. I am stronger than I was 16 years ago, when my sweet Mother lost her battle with cancer. God has been doing a work in my life (which kind of scares me for what he has in store after Moma passes). One of the statements we made in the paper about the story characters was that being responsible for a family is stressful enough without having a disabled spouse (from the story) or aging parent put on you. It made me realize that I am not just whiny and weak. I have been called to do a GREAT job which is burdensome in more ways than one. I am climbing Mt. Everest. I am swimming the Atlantic. This is my task. MINE! And I'll see it through.....if it kills me.

Practical

I haven't posted any of the practical stuff I have learned through this. And this is supposed to help those who might face this plight one day. So here are just a few things I have learned.

• Keep a bicycle lock for the refrigerator. Standing with the door open, looking and prodding becomes habit. 
• Lock all medicines in a container stored out of reach.
• If you value your personal grooming items, lock them in your bathroom closet lest you come in and find your granny lathering up with your Bath and Bodyworks lotion.
• By placing a bell on doors, you can keep up with when they try to go out. I have one on my refrigerator and on the bathroom closet, just in case someone forgets to lock it back.
• Keep doors closed to areas you do not want them in. Sometimes it is a deterrent.
• Keep a night light somewhere close outside their bedroom door. Mainly so they are not afraid when they look out in the middle of the night.
• Close air-conditioning vents close to their bed. I found magnetic covers at Wal-Mart. I just put it up during the winter.
• Child proof your home as if you had an autistic 4 year old set of twins living with you.
• Put up family pictures or any other memorabilia that will cause confusion. You can't imagine how valuable this piece of information will be to you. Dementia causes them to get very confused over family things.
• NEVER NEVER let your loved one stay alone while you "run a quick errand". I came home from Dollar General (less than 2 miles away) to find Moma had let the dogs out and she was roaming the yard. Thank God for Chris Haney, who kept her at bay until I got back.
• This is something I still struggle with: Do not let little things make you crazy!!!
• Keep a bottle of Valium or a 5th of Vodka handy, you will need it! LOL

It is not an easy road. Many times it is nasty, smelly, and just plain awful. But, it is also rewarding. I don't recommend this, but if you choose to do it, pray a lot, and stick with it to the end. The worst part of it is that my time is NEVER my own. I have NO freedom. But with God's blessings, I am sure that I will reap the gift of time soon. The best piece of advice I can offer is LAUGH.... a lot.

Fight

Yesterday, the sitter came so that I could take Rebekah to have some oral surgery in Anniston. When we returned home, I was struggling with Rebekah, a semi-conscious, drugged up body. As I was leading her to her room, I heard all this screaming and yelling. After getting Bek settled, I went into the kitchen to hear Moma say, "If you lay yore hands on me one more time, I'll knock yore damn head off". Moma was holding a styrofoam container that we brought home from her  birthday supper with a half of a BBQ sandwich in it. It appears that Connie warmed it up for Moma's lunch, and while she was in the bathroom, Moma was distributing it to the animals. Connie came in and caught her and tried to wrestle it out of her hands. When I walked into the room, Moma said, "Julie....(points at Connie) that is the hatefulest old womern. I just hate her! She is mean and treats me like a dog! (Connie in background arguing with her) I'd rather stay with the blackest, blackest, blackest person than her. Don't NEVER call her again." Connie spoke up to say to Moma that she was just mad because Connie would not let her feed the dogs. "YOU'RE A DAMN LIAR!!!!!" Moma screeched at her. My reply to Moma was that I couldn't find anyone to stay with her because she was so hateful. Then I said, "Well I hope God will forgive you for this tirade. You aren't supposed to hate anyone." She said, "He will.....He hates her too!" Nice......do you people see what I live with??????????????

Birthday Reflections

No matter how SICK I am of hearing about her birthday, we are still discussing it. She looked at the date on our board today and said, "Well, yesterday was my birthday. I don't guess anybody gives a damn. Nobody did anything!" (eye roll) After trying to convince her for 3 separate comments about it, I just quit. We did nothing, as far as I am concerned at this juncture.
At lunch, I offered her a piece of her birthday cake. She ate about 1/2 of it, and then said, "Now leave this right here, and I'll finish it in a minute!" She seemed really defensive. I watched her. In a minute, she put cake icing on her fork and held it down for the dogs to lick. I just got up and removed her cake and dumped it in the trash. She said, "You are acting really smart today!" I got in her face and said, "Stop. Feeding. My. Dog!!!!!" through gritted teeth. As I turned away from her, she stuck out her tongue at me. I said, "Stop being stupid" (I know, but I'm only 12). She said, "Julie....I used to love and appreciate you." USED TO????????????  What you trying to say old woman????

Birthday Update

I brought in the mail. Moma had a card from her sweet niece who is the ONLY one who ever sends her a card for birthdays, Mother's Day, Christmas, etc. I handed it to her with a big smile and said, "Look! You got a birthday card!!" I left her to open it, and heard her say "Shit! There ain't no damn money in this!" She handed it back to me as if to say, try again. It's going to be a long night.

Weekend Catch Up, and then there's Today.....

So much to write! She has been in rare form! Buckle up....this may be a long ride.
Friday night, the kids were gone and Kerry had to be somewhere so Moma and I were "home alone". She was pretty good, but she was needy. "Will you take care of me?" "Will you check on me?" but like I said, not too bad. My friend, Kelli, came by to see her. She began to rag her about her clothes (as usual). It was a spectacle that I was embarrassed about. She finally told Kelli to get rid of her dress. She is not, by any means, an authority on style. There is a video that I am uploading to youtube. Will post as soon as I get it uploaded.
Saturday was the same song  but a totally different verse. NEEDY doesn't describe her good enough. She was "a-dyin'" at breakfast. And it was something every 15 minutes all day long. Now, there is nothing I hate worse than that victim mentality, but I had it Saturday. I was itching to get in the pool (the Wal-Mart pool that I lovingly refer to as Payne's Pool and Patio Party). I would get her settled in bed, and she would be asleep, but the very minute (and I am NOT exaggerating) that I put one toe in that water, she'd bellow my name! I keep the monitor outside when I am in the pool. It's like she knew, but she couldn't have. I was ready to kill her and drink martinis over her dead body by late afternoon. Then, because of a misunderstanding, my trip to Riverfest was canceled. And I found myself at home alone again with the Princess. I made her a steak sandwich and ordered me up a Hawaiian pizza from Dominoes with an order of cheesy bread to serve at my pity party. She hates pizza and was in bed when it came so forget trying to make me feel guilty. She hollered in her sleep, and cussed some people, and then welcomed someone in (all in her sleep). She also sang and begged God to let her live to be 100. You should assume that she was still throwing birthday hints all weekend, because it is so redundant, I am tired of talking about it.
But Sunday (SUNDAY! as Al Roker would say), she was really a pistol ball! She sang at the breakfast table so loud I thought surely the neighbors would hear. She made up songs. She sang to Jesus that it was her birthday. She sang praises to him, but also reminded him it was her birthday. She shouted, lifted her hands and spoke a little "foreign tongue". She stomped her feet and clapped her hands. It was truly a sight to behold and I didn't video it because I was afraid I'd miss something. This was an event that my friend Cheryl would have delighted to be a part of. Moma and Cheryl have that COG thing together. After lunch, I took a dear friend to a funeral, and left her with Christo. He said she was fine. But of course, when I came in....she  was up and at 'em. She followed me around. She kept asking if nobody was going to swim. So I put on my bathing suit and went out there. For some reason, she is content to sit on the deck and watch me in the pool. Mr. Payne was cutting grass and it was all over the surface of the water, so I went to work skimming. Then he skimmed when he got through. Moma kept asking him what was in the water that he was getting out. He ignored her. Finally, she said, "I guess it's full of shit". Of course, being the 12 year old that I am, I fell out laughing. When the pool was clear, we got on our big "rocker" floats. She stood at the door, and begged me to dump him over. Then she begged us both to dump the other one. We call that "instigating" in middle school. The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful. She did talk just about all night in her sleep.
Then this morning, she got up and ate, and began her dying act. Got her back in the bed, did my walking, and got in the pool. She got up! (never fails) So I sat on the deck with her awhile. She eyed Rebekah's pants I had hanging to dry and asked whose they were. I told her and her reply? "She must have a big ass". Nice. Then the hospice aid came to give her a bath and she referred to her as "that black bitch". The urge to kill was so strong at that point. Today is her birthday, and she is 98, but she may not live much longer if she doesn't level off soon! Will post pictures from the "party" tonight later.

T-4 and counting.....

Moma is still counting down the days until her birthday, but for some reason she tells other people that she will be 90 years old, but she tells us she is almost 100. I guess at that age, who cares how close you get? She is kind of confused and slow today, but yesterday she was in rare form. I got her up early to get ready for the beauty shop, and she kept telling me she couldn't go. I said, "You'll feel better after you eat", but she didn't. I let her go back and lie down for a few minutes. When she got up, she wanted ANOTHER breakfast. In fact, she demanded one and called me a damn liar when I told her she had already eaten. I fixed it and she ate every bite! We rushed to get ready, and out the door. She was late to the beauty shop, but they don't care. And I had a chiropractor appointment. When I went back to pick her up, they could NOT believe her cussing and bossing. It was so funny to see their faces when they told me how ugly she talked. I just welcomed them to my world. lol But when I got her up to take her out, she went by their "goody counter", and began grabbing up some "take home". Dinah got her a bag, but she was grabbing napkins to wrap stuff up. It was like watching a beggar at the soup kitchen. I finally had to pull her hands away from the containers. Then on the way out, she tried to get her a jar of home canned pickles someone had brought Dinah. She is AWFUL to take out in public. You'd think we were poor and destitute. She acts like she never gets to eat. Then she brought that sassiness home. I was ready to kill her by the time I left for Bible School!
But then today, she is slow, and confused, and wobbly. She complains that she "don't feel too good". She has been in the bed a good bit. Tomorrow I get to sleep in....well, we'll see.