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?
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