Home

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Weekends with Mildred....suck

I have looked forward to this weekend all dreary week. I wanted to get some much needed Vitamin D, but as usual, she has ruined it for me. Let's start with Saturday (because she was actually pretty good Friday night).
Saturday I wanted to sleep late because I have had 2 weeks of testing which is the equivalent of having the flu. It wears me out. My joints ache, my muscles beg for mercy, and  my mind is like a colander (stuff, important stuff, goes in but it all comes out, nothing sticks). But no, she got me up bright an early Saturday morning. Since I did not get to sleep late, I made busy with laundry, dishes, etc. To say that Mildred was busy is putting it mildly. I found a pair of  lace gloves that my mother gave me a while back because I was kind of obsessed with antique linens, etc. They used to lay across 2 antique books in my living room when I was in to the Victorian thing (which Moma quickly cured by breaking several things) ANYWAY, I wanted to wash the gloves because they looked dingy, and thought I might put them back out, I mean, she can't break them. I had laid them by the sink in the kitchen and gone out on the deck for something. When I came in, she jumped. There she stood in the kitchen with my gloves about to shove them in her pocket. Now, looking back, I should have let her just keep them, but I was in "bull headed" mode, so I had to fight for them. "What are you doing?" I asked. I reached for the gloves and she jerked them away. "These are mine!!" "No, Moma, they are not yours. My mother gave them to me". She struggled to hang on to them, screaming "Well, they fit me!!! They just fit!!" and hateful as I am I took them. She was staggering, and I got her under the arms to lead her back to her room, and she wailed like a 4 year old, "Pleeeeeease please, let me wear them gloves. They just fit me! Pleeeeeease let me wear 'em". I am so over her fits that I have no sympathy anymore.  Then much later in the evening, she had another one. I mean what would my weekend be like if there no dying spells? She was "a-hurtin'" and "somethin's wrong" and she was "going crazy", and as always wanted a magic pill to cure her. I gave her Tylenol and ignored as much as I could. She finally put her head up (we were at the table) and looked at me, and said, "I've got to go to bed. Can you take over?" I almost laughed in her face! Take over what? Does she really think she is in charge?
But Sunday tops the charts as one of the worst days with her. I slept late, dratted allergies! My throat was so sore when I woke up, I would have cried but it would have only made it worse. She came to me while I was still in the bed. "Julie, when you get up will you fix me something to eat?" I nodded yes because speaking is out of the question. She turned on her heels and immediately went to Kerry in the den. "Kerry would you fix me something to eat?" The covers flew back and I was up, hating her with gusto. I silently started her water for oatmeal, poured her coffee, and poured myself a healing Diet Dr. Pepper. Ahhhhh.....nothing like it. The microwave went off and I fixed the oatmeal and handed it to her, not wanting to speak. "What's today?" That is her early morning test of my patience. She knows the board is wrong and I haven't had time to change it. Silently, I walk to the board, and I put up today's date. She read it out loud as I wrote. I began looking for something to eat and the questions began. "Julie, does Kerry have to work today?" "Where's  Becky?" "What day is this?" "Where's that little black dog?" "Does Kerry have to work today?" ad nauseum. I nodded or shook my head appropriately and tried my best not to speak. My throat was killing me, and it was one of those sore throats that feels raw from sinus drainage, so I knew eating would help. I fixed myself a pop-tart. "What kind of cake is that?" "Pinch me off a little bite". The urge to kill her was getting stronger. Kerry left to go to the golf course and I just knew she would go back to bed so I could get in the sunshine! "Well, where's he a going?" "Julie! He's leaving!!" She is in to this new thing of tattling on Kerry. She finally went to bed. I did a few things and then decided to get my swim suit on and get me some sun! In less than 10 minutes, she was outside with me. She made a few observations about my suntan lotion, my book, my cover up, etc. then said, "I wish I had something good to eat." I said, "Okay, in a minute"  Then, as if on cue, said, " I sure would like something good to eat! Would you?" I just got up silently and went to the kitchen, muttering to myself, "I know this is a losing battle, let me fix it NOW!" I won't go into the usual "Don't feed the dogs fight" because it is so common, that you, my reader, could write it.  After lunch, she declared that she was bed bound. I was jumping for joy inside. I looked at the clock and figured I had about an hour left of good sun. The battery in the monitor had gotten weak so I could not take it out but I plugged it in and turned it up and opened some windows along the way to help me hear her. I bet that I had not been back on that deck for 10 minutes until she was coming out like brand new. She let the dogs out there with me and stood in the doorway looking at me. "You're showing your ass" she said. I nodded in complete apathy.  She came on out and walked to the other end of the deck, but I felt in my bones what was coming. As she came back toward me, she stood over me and said, "Julie, how much do you weigh?" I answered, "It doesn't matter. It is really none of your business" Oh that was the beginning of a volley of smart comments between us. "Did you say it ain't none of my business? Well you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I know by looking at them big legs, you weigh at least 200 pounds". (Ok, seriously, at this point I was visualizing tossing her nappy tail off the deck) She continued, "Lay there and show your ass to the world and see if I care". "It is rude to ask someone their weight, Moma" "How do you know?" was her brilliant response. I told her that weight and age were not subjects for polite conversation. "You can ask your kin folks", she said. "Well, maybe but your kin folks don't have to answer". "Awww hush up....just hush". I said, "You started it".  She and I went on like that for about 10  more minutes until Jean Piaget whispered in my ear, "she is only a child. You are arguing with a child in the preoperational stage of cognition". My Early Childhood knowledge does come back to me when I need it. Then, she got started on my toe ring. "Can you get that rang off yore toe?" I nodded yes. "I don't see how". I closed my eyes wishing she would disappear. Then I felt her grabbing at my toe trying to force the ring off my toe. I jerked my leg back, hollering "Stop it". She muttered, " I knew it wouldn't come off". Next campaign was a remix of "You are just showing your ass out here". I said, "Moma, I am on my deck at my house. No one is here but you and me! How can I be showing my ass?" She informed me that I had no idea who was coming in. I reminded her that I had locked the front door and no one could get in. "Ohhhhhhhh, aren't you smart?? You know it all!" she retorted in her smartiest voice. (more visions are coming to me like Jane Fonda and J.Lo.). Again, I was reminded that she is a child. I finally gathered my things and came back into the house, where she began dying spell #897. Currently, we are in the middle of dying. I'll keep you posted.

1 comment:

cosby2 said...

Sorry to hear that your weekend was horrible. Hope you're feeling better soon. I had the sinus crud last month, so I feel your pain. I just didn't have Moma to deal with while being sick.