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Wednesday, August 29, 2012




Just an empty lot with a lot of memories. Ghosts of my past, my father's past, and her past wandering around looking for that sweet little pink house. Sad......but I am happy the house was not torn down, and that now another family will have sweet memories in that precious little mill house.

Mill Village House Refuses to Leave Alabama City




House movers broke an axle moving the house to Walnut Park. I like to think Moma's little house just refused to move! Thanks for the idea from my cousin, Nancy!

Monday, July 2, 2012

Just a memorial....she's not there!

The flowers were beautiful!

Benny Campbell did outstanding on the casket blanket ( totally expected)

The sun was so hot that day that the flowers wouldn't last long.
So Sherry and I went over and gathered us a few.





Afterwards.....

We ate her "Peggy Logan" cake without her. She got a better offer.

I kept this up for quite awhile. I just couldn't erase it.

July 12, 2012

The day before her birthday

Her new pajamas from Connie

She told Connie she was going to be 100

Monday, June 18, 2012

Heaven is a little bit sweeter!

Little did I know when I was writing Moma's birthday post that she was already celebrating her birthday with Jesus. She died in her sleep, but took her next breath in Heaven. I am sure she was greeted by family and friends, but I KNOW that Jesus took her hand as soon as she got there.
I am not sure how I will handle this blog. I will probably do some final postings, but just wanted to give you a heads up dear readers. Your comments have kept me going, and writing this blog was the most therapeutic thing I could have done.
Thank you for reading and for your kind comments.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

99 years of Moma

Happy Birthday to the best friend I have ever had. You were there when I needed you. You were there when I wanted you. You were there for birthdays, Christmas, Easter, and all the important times in my life. You taught me how to shoot a basketball and marbles. You jumped rope with me. We played Old Maids, even though Papa hated you "playing cards" with me. You instilled a love for animals, chocolate, having fun and laughing until my sides hurt. We played Doodlebug on your front porch too many times to count. You taught me to pray, read my Bible and hide the Word in my heart. You took me to the Falls, piano lessons, visiting the sick with you, and to your church Christmas play. We made fudge together every Christmas, and then you made it with my kids.(I am so happy you were "still" Moma for my kids) Remember how we used to bounce a tennis ball against your house until Papa would turn red and make us stop? Thank you for ALWAYS being there for me! Happy Birthday Moma!






Sunday, June 3, 2012

I thought it was Blue MONDAY!

Isn't Monday supposed to be blue? Not Sunday! But today, my Sunday is blue. Not really sure why except that there are  parts of my life that I cannot control that I really seriously need control over. I feel so betrayed in so many ways. Moma is not one of the reasons but she has added to my stress today. I slept late because I took a Flexeril before bed last night because of the immense pain I am in. I am sure it is only arthritis due to my being so overweight, but it is still pain, BAD pain. It wears me out and I am tired of being worn out so I just succumbed to the drug thing (which I usually would rather ride it out with no drugs because of all the side effects). ANYWAY, Mildred woke me up standing over my bed with a pillow in her hand. "Julie, Julie.....where do you want me to put this?" Ugh.....after telling her "in your room" 5 times she finally got it. Then she proceeded to start making snarky comments about how junky my room is and asking whose stuff this is. I do not handle interviews well when I first wake up, so I screamed "MINE!!! MINE!!!! It's all MINE!" She said, "Well I don't give a damn.....you don't want to talk to me......mumble mumble" and she turned and left my room. Of course, she just went around the bend to the kitchen. I started fixing her breakfast and she continued with the questions. I tried to ignore her. Finally, I went over and turned on the TV to METV where reruns of the Brady Bunch were running (right up my alley). There was a Christmas episode. So, long story short, Moma thinks that it is almost time for Christmas. She wished Kerry a very Merry Christmas (causing Christopher to blow drink out his nose) and she has asked at least 25 times how long it is until Christmas. I know I should be laughing, but it is just an epic example of how stupid my life is. If you pray, pray for me.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Must've been a virus............

She's baaaaackkkkkk! She either had a virus or has miraculously bounced back from a stroke. She is as irritating as always. Tonight at supper I had visions of smashing her face into her plate repeatedly. Smart mouth! It's like being in the room with a severely autistic individual who is asseverating on something. I couldn't wait to march her tail to bed! Good Night Nurse!

Monday, May 28, 2012

It's different now....

This post is more for documentation than anything. I can't explain the difference. She is quite different.

Friday night, Kerry went out with friends leaving Rebekah and me alone with Moma. We got Firehouse Subs and she pulled her usual fit over wanting mine instead of hers. I gave it to her, but she only ate a few bites. Then she vomited for 30 minutes. She really had nothing to throw up, but she gagged and gagged. She went to bed about 7ish. She got up late Saturday, and basically stayed in the bed most of the day. Rebekah kept her while I entertained my high school friend from Virginia. She whined all day for food. Rebekah fed her but it was like it wasn't enough. Then Sunday, she didn't get up until after 3:00. I checked on her but let her sleep. She got up and ate, then did the vomiting thing again. She was MEAN at supper, even to my in-laws. She called my mother-in-law a damn liar. She thought it was Christmas Day. When we corrected her, she said, "I should've known it wasn't Christmas because I don't have any presents", THEN she said, but I've had one thing......We all looked at her questioning.....She said, "I've had a damn good time!" We fell out laughing. Within a few minutes, she was back in bed (and the vomiting started again). When I went in to clean her up, it was as if she couldn't move her mouth. I'm thinking small stroke. Lord, have mercy.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

What a weekend!

Wow! It's been such a weekend, I am not sure where to start. But being the symmetrical fool that I am, I'll start with Friday.

Friday:

I came home more than a little irritated and upset. It seems that my new principal and the old counselor have set out to completely and totally destroy me. Every day there is a new rumor about where he is having me transferred. It is NO secret that I have applied for another job or two, but not within our system. If I am going to stay with the GCS, then I choose my school. Why? Truthfully, God has given me such a heart for my East Gadsden kids. They are my heart. I love middle school, and have NO desire to return to elementary unless it is back to a classroom (which I'm a little scared of in these crazy times). Call me crazy, but middle school (and especially EASTSIDE middle school) is a perfect fit for me. After school, I was on the phone trying to dispel the rumor that I am being transferred back to Walnut Park (full circle). I came in the house on the phone, which I rarely do, as Moma doesn't recognize my cell as a telephone. After the sitter left, I was in the kitchen talking to my friend and Moma called out, "Just call it all off!" I turned and looked at her. "Huh?" I asked. "Just call everything off!" I nodded okay, having no clue what she meant and finished my conversation. When I got off the phone, I asked her what she was talking about.  She stood, threw up her arms, and declared, "Just call everything off!" I said, "Ohhhhkay". Then she pointed to the date board. And said, "call it off", and kept nodding. So I quickly came to her aid.

 She was fairly quiet, the rest of the night. But when I went to change her bed (because it was wet, of course), I found this (see picture). I called Rebekah in to see it. We both nearly lost it. I teared up. I think she is ready for a baby doll.
That is the sweet little doll I put in her stocking at Christmas. She looks kind of like a Cabbage Patch doll.
So sweet (not Moma, the moment....)

Saturday:

I made my mind up that I was not going to waste a day sitting around waiting for her to go back to bed so I could get stuff done, so I chose to make Saturday my "errand" day. I told Moma at breakfast that I had some places to go and I wanted her to go with me. She asked me to lay out her clothes and she'd get herself dressed. We started out headed to the cleaners, then by Charlotte's store to get a baby gift, then on to the Gadsden Mall. I needed a new bra, some tennis shoe inserts, and I wanted to find her some flat shoes and a little knit jogging suit (something comfy and not dressy). We parked and she tried to refuse to get out of the car. Finally, I got her out, and loaded in her wheel chair and off we went. She wouldn't admit it in a million years but she loves that wheel chair. We shopped around a bit. She tried on some shoes for me, and just as I was about to buy them, she said, "Let's just wait....." I knew she really didn't like them because they were flat. Ugh....We headed to the food court for lunch. (Sidebar: the Gadsden Mall has the MOST pitiful food court known to man. It's Asian, Mexican, Italian, or Chik-Filet...Not a hamburger to be had). Needless to say, we chose Chik-Filet. I got her settled at the table, after we ordered, and went back to get our food. When I returned, she was talking to some man. He was just eating her up. I sat down, and he was less than 20 steps from us and she said, "Who the hell was that?". I nearly choked. She was making lots of precious observations like, "I ain't never seen so many big fat people in one place". I finished eating and kept waiting on her but she was too busy looking around.

She informed me that she was fine, for me to go do what I needed to do. Hesitantly, I walked over to Bath and Body Works and the GNC while she finished. When I returned, she had 3 tiny pieces of chicken on a napkin. I sat and waited again. Finally, I said, "Moma, let's run up to Belk's. I might buy you something." She begged, "Please let me sit here and watch. I won't go no where." I realized that she was people watching and seemed perfectly happy, so off to Belk's I went. When I returned, she requested something sweet. I said, "Well, let's stop and get a cookie on our way out". She let me know real quick that I could walk down there and get her one, she was not ready to go. So I did. Then I went to the book store (I promise I was only in there a minute, unlike usual) and then over to Victoria Secret. When I went back to get her to LEAVE the mall, she resisted. She was so mad at me. "I AIN'T READY TO GO!!!!!!!" she growled. I loaded her back into the car. Time spent at Gadsden Mall: 2 hours. We pulled out of our parking place and she said, "Get me some more drink". I argued that I had asked her before we left if she wanted a refill and she refused it. She began just ripping me to shreds. I mean literally blessing me out. I pulled into the other Chik-Filet and ordered her a small tea. I wanted to put her out at this point. What did she do to repay me for my gesture? She began pouring the new cup of tea into the old cup which still had tea in it, so yes.....poured it all over herself and my seats. (Maybe that is why Kerry bought me a 1998 Grand Prix with 189,000 miles on it). I grabbed the old cup from her, poured the contents out the window and slung it into the back seat. "You suck the very life out of me!!! You take away every bit of joy I receive for doing something nice for you and with you! You are absolutely driving me crazy!" I screamed at her. "Thanky" was all she said. I was livid! Her antics caused me to forget to go to the pharmacy and pick up Mr. Payne's meds. He, more than anyone, doesn't need to skip a blood pressure pill. She was mean and hateful the rest of the afternoon. I am seriously considering taking her to the food court every Saturday and making sure she has food, then running like a cheetah.

Sunday:

When you wake up to this. You know something has gone awry. Kerry met her in the kitchen with a pajama top and slip on. No walker. Her slip was covered in.....well, not urine.....yeah, the other. She had no diaper on. He gave her a diaper and sent her walking. She apparently put it on. I woke up and found this.
Yes, that is Moma wadded up in a ball wrapped up in her blanket. You can't see her sheet but it had skid marks all over it. Precious. And you people think I'm crazy?

Monday, May 14, 2012

Happy Birthday Rebekah!

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Today is my youngest child's 22nd birthday (I'm old as dirt). Moma sang Happy Birthday to her. She has no clue who she is. Sad.....

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Sunday afternoon...

As I write this, she is sitting on my living room sofa, feet tucked under her, propped back on my sofa pillows, looking out my picture window two knuckles deep in her nose. I do not really like her today (no hate today, just dislike). I decided today to confront her on all the things she does that really annoys me, thinking I might get a little joy from it, but no. This life I live has just about sucked all the joy I could ever have from me. But I know that we should not be storing up treasures here on Earth, and after I get a good tongue lashing from the Father about my attitude, I will receive my reward. But it isn't about me or rewards. There was no other choice to make. This, as much as I hate it, is the only way I could live with myself. I begged for a mission trip, and this, my friend, is it.
So, on to the things that she has done today that really annoys me to the max.
  1. She pulls at my plants/flowers thinking she is "dead heading" them. They don't all need that, and she is virtually pulling the roots from the pots. She kills everything I bring home. And one of the gifts I received from God, and inherited from Grandma Payne is that I can grown anything (except when she is around).
  2. She asks questions about everything I do. "Whose dresses are those on the porch?" She knows they are her housecoats that I have to hang on the deck to "air" because even washing doesn't take out the urine smell. And another favorite, "Where are you a going?" just because I opened the front door.
  3. She feeds my dogs. No discussion. We have beaten this dead horse enough.
  4. Sitting at the kitchen table dying. Today, every time she started it, I got up and hustled her back to her room. Not gonna watch it or listen to it. She is not dying (nor will she ever).
  5. "Gimme a bite of that cookie". Okay, it is not a cookie, it is a pop-tart, and it is my breakfast. Can I please have the whole thing? If I were literally eating horse manure, she would want it.
  6. Choosing not to wear a diaper or to wear 3 gowns plus pajama bottoms with 3 housecoats.  Okay, I realize that she cannot help some of this, but please! I am doing laundry like a ninja 5 days a week, and as soon as I get a stack of gowns that I think will do her several days, she puts them ALL on at one time. Then she wets herself (soaking ALL the gowns) and I check her...no diaper! AUGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am so sick of bodily functions!!! and their nasty smells!
  7. Rambling, nosing, piddling is one of her favorite pastimes that make me want to harm her. Look, stay out of my things! PERIOD. (and I forgot to mention that she steals stuff too).
  8. Being greedy is another trait we struggle with daily. After a meal, she will say, "Can I have a banana?" or whatever is in sight. She wants to take it to her room because she is a hoarder (always has been....must be where I get it).
  9. The grunting is not easily overlooked in every situation. She will stand over me sometimes looking at the paper or whatever I am looking at, and she grunts every time she breathes. I want to strangle her. Besides, I want you out of my personal space, please.
  10. (I feel like Letterman with my list, but mine is backward from his) I am so sick of NEVER having the freedom to just pick up and go or do what I want! I have to make arrangements for going to Dollar General. Today, the main reason I am so ill is because my upcoming beach trip may  be null and void because of my freedom issue. My sitter's sister died so she is on her way to West Virginia. My sub-sitter can only work 3 1/2 days, leaving Friday and Saturday with no sitter and me out of town. My niece said she could do Saturday, so now Friday is up in the air. AUGH!!!!! My sister is out of town as well (not good planning on my part, but she didn't tell me either). So, I am in limbo until my niece checks to see if she can do Friday. If you know me, you know that I HATE LIMBO!  I do not do limbo well at all. I am a school teacher for gosh sakes, and we follow plans. If I make it out of this situation before Mildred does, AS GOD AS MY WITNESS, I will not be responsible for anyone ever again, except Julie and her dogs! A-men and A-men.

Garbage Police

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Moma likes to tend to things that are nothing to her. She wants to be in charge so bad she can  taste it. She didn't worry about the garbage when she lived alone. I took her can to the street and then moved it back around when it was emptied. She never really had any responsibilities! Ahhh, the life of a  princess!

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Her song


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Just make up the words Mildred....if you don't know the song, make that up too....then add a tag from a familiar song that we all know. Good Grief....

JULIE!

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Oh Yeah! It is possible to be sick to death of hearing your own name!

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Your Grace?

Today, I am simply an humble hand-maiden to her royalty, the Little Princess. She has bossed me since waking me by SCREAMING my name this morning (with Kerry telling her to go back to bed and leave me alone). She bossed me through breakfast. "Hon, put this in the garbage" (she means right then, no later) "Can I have something else to drink?" "Hey, get me a spoon". (All the while I am thinking, CAN I EAT IN PEACE? No, apparently not)
News Flash: While writing this post (and procrastinating some major school work), I heard her in the kitchen. I walked in just in time to see her loading her pockets with rubber gloves. When I took them and asked her to stay out of my things, she said, " Y'all think I'm a thief". THAT IS BECAUSE YOU ARE! I know that in her state of mind, there are no laws of reason, but this little princess is slowly killing me. Lord, have mercy!

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Patio Talk

Last night we took Moma out on the patio to sit with us awhile. She asked a million questions about everything, but this little conversation was just precious to  me:

Moma: Whose bike is that parked in the co-ner?
Kerry: It's YOURS!
Moma: Mine? How do you know it is?
Kerry: Because I do. It is yours.
Moma: It ain't mine. Mine is a girl's bike.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Sunday, April 22

The events of last week made me a better person. I was slower to anger, kinder in actions and nicer to her all around. Today, she is testing me. Today, I am back to being her indentured servant. Here is how breakfast went.

7:00 am She wandered into the kitchen, Kerry and I were still asleep. She left in disgust.
8:30 am Kerry had left the house. She stormed into the kitchen slamming her walker into the table. She then banged on my bedroom door and screamed, "WHEN YOU GONE GET UP AND FIX MY BREAKFAST?" I got up. I went to the bathroom. When I came out, she screamed again, "HEY!!! DID YOU HEAR ME? I WANT SOMETHING TO EAT!"
As I was walking around in the fog that you call morning, she began her questioning routine. "What day is this?" "You fixin' me something to eat?" "Where is Kerry?" "Has it been a-rainin'?" I was doing the very best I could to function and ignore her as well. Thankfully, my sweet husband had already made the princess' coffee.  I poured her a cup thinking this would slow her yelling at me. When I sat it in front of her, she said, "I want something to eat too!" (really? really?) I silently turned back to her oatmeal prep. After I got it fixed, I sat it and her morning pills in front of her. She began her eating routine which includes growling like a puppy eating kibble. I got myself a granola bar and a Diet Dr. Pepper and sat in my usual seat at the table (which unfortunately is next to her). "Where'd you get that?" I pointed to the pantry. "What is it?" I showed her the now empty box. "I WANT ONE! GIMME ONE!" I turned the box upside down to show her it was empty. "Shit!" she said. I picked up the Big Lots sale paper. Within minutes, she removed it from my hands and examined it. "Where is Lots?" she asked, "Alabama City" my reply. Never returned the sale paper, she went about eating her oatmeal. When I heard the spoon hit the bottom of the bowl, I thought my service was over. She shoved the bowl at me and growled, "That wasn't enough". I said, "Lunch will be soon". She screamed, "I WANT SOME MORE OATMEAL!!!!"  I fixed it. "Hey, I need some more coffee" I poured it. "Well this ain't hot! I want it hot!" (Yeah, I had the same thought you just did, but I didn't) I nuked the coffee in the microwave (that little oven as she calls it). She drank a sip or two, then barked, "HEY! You didn't fix me no water!" (Because this is the 60's and we serve water with every meal?) I fixed her water and shoved her pill cup at her. "Take these", I said. "I done took them onest today". I shook my head no at her. She said, "Okay, I'll take 'em again". After a few more demands on me, she finally went back to bed. I hope she wakes up in another personality. I liked nicer me. I thought that was going really well.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Last night...

I really do not want to report on last night. It was ugly. I acted awful. And if you have a queasy stomach....please click the X now.
My grandmother, for some reason, is very susceptible to having impacted bowels. I am not sure if that is the correct term but you get my gist. She has lost so much muscle control that she cannot hold off her urine, and apparently cannot push out the other. They seem opposite of each other but whatever......
Anyway, she complained most of the day yesterday of her "tail a-hurtin'" , but I didn't catch the other symptoms of the impaction. About 5:30, she got up from her nap screaming (I mean SCREAMING) for someone to help her and carrying on like someone was dead. Kerry and I ignored it as much as possible but finally (in the middle of my supper) I had to go check on her. She was standing in the middle of my living room holding herself screaming "I'm a shittin' on myself!" I got her back into her room and stripped her, put her on the toilet, and began handing her baby wipes to clean up. She would not stop screaming. I was getting angrier by the minute. I don't have much patience any way but especially with those prima donnas who cannot take one ounce of pain. I tend to be a "suffer in silence" type, unlike the majority of females in my family. I digress....
She was 2 knuckles deep in her rectum digging out the "offender". She had poop on her hand up to her wrist, and she was digging like a maniac. She would hurt herself and scream. She was smearing it off her hands onto the sides of her bedside commode. (I was in a chair across the room gagging). I tried to stop her and do it with a rubber glove and Vaseline but she was in no shape to be reckoned with. Finally, I got her cleaned her up, put her a clean diaper and gown on. I went to empty her trash and came back to her back on the toilet, her gown dragging through the mess, and her hands full of "you know". I went nuts! I was screaming at her, trying to rip the gown over her head, and frankly, acting just plain AWFUL! There was poop in the floor, on her gown and the potty. I got on the floor to clean up the mess and she started vomiting (not in the garbage can that was at her foot, no.....all in the floor). Now, let me stop and say this......this is the lowest of lows. This is worse (to me) than the prodigal son eating the pig slop. I grabbed the garbage can and shoved it in her lap and screamed "Do not throw up in the floor again!" Then, I went back to the floor to clean up vomit. I looked up at her. She looked back with those bluest of blue eyes, as lost as a goose, and said so humbly, "I can't help it". At that moment God broke me. I began to weep. How dare I. She is my grandmother! I am treating her worse than I would someone that don't even know. I cleaned up the mess, cleaned her up, and redressed her. I got her back into bed, and went to take the dirty clothes to the laundry room. As I started down the stairs, Satan (the "buddy" who goes every where with me) said this...."She served God all her life. Now look at her.! She honored her mother and even her drunkard father, what did that get her? She isn't being rewarded, she is being cursed!" Anger spread over my being like fire. I was furious! I was furious with God! Why would anyone want to serve Him to end up like Moma? Why honor your parents? Old age is a curse, not a blessing! I ranted and raved about 15 minutes, and God broke me again. I sobbed bitter tears....I walked around the outside of the house several times. It seemed as if I couldn't breathe good. I was spent. I wanted to hear a compassionate voice. I called my friend Cheryl, who talked me through it all. After I assured her that it was not about me, at all. I was brokenhearted for the grandmother that was the best friend to a silly little chubby girl, the grandmother who listened to all my heartsick stories, and always ALWAYS made me laugh. Cheryl reminded me that God will give me just enough for today, each day. But...I have to trust Him to do that. He wants me depending on Him. She assured me that I am being obedient. She comforted me. Later, I emailed my pastor requesting he pray for me. He sent me the sweetest email back telling me that God was big enough for me to get mad at Him. He reminded me that He is my Father. I am so thankful for Godly people in my life.
With every fiber of my being, I can say it is NOT about me. She may make me want to kill her tomorrow (and I am sure of it!), but this journey is not about me. It is all about HER and it is for HIS glory.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Hate is an ugly word.....

I know I say  it so  much it doesn't even mean anything any more, but I hate her! (It's kind of become an endearing term......ha!)
For some reason, I thought taking her to the BBQ festival at the falls would be a great idea. She had so much fun last year, and didn't want to leave. I was happy that Rebekah went with us. Without her, I might have dumped Momaw out in that wheelchair. I am not the best driver.
After we dressed her up, we headed out. She asked no less than 6 times from the driveway to the parking lot, "Where are we a-going?" We rolled up to the gate, and there was a black female security guard. Bek and I trembled for fear of what she might say.  She seemed to be more interested in the fact that she was a female "po-lice" than a black female. (That was God's grace) We walked around a bit to see what all was there (or what was NOT there.....dang Wills Creek Ice Cream NOT), then we went to the VIP pavilion for our "free" food. Moma complained about every morsel. All the employees made over her and carried on, so she put on a show. She got loud a couple of times. Somehow we made it out of there with no major incident. We had reservations to eat at the South Pork tent (owned by 2 of my vendors), so we strolled around and then headed there. We pushed her wheelchair up to the table and Bek and I got in line to fix plates. Moma turned to the lady at the end of the table and said, "Where in the hell do you get something to eat?" I got her food to her and went and got her a Coke (because she wouldn't have it any other way) She couldn't eat half the food and could not drink the Coke.  She attempted to give her food to everyone at the table. I ignored her as much as possible as there were many people there that I haven't seen in forever. When we finished eating, Rebekah and I decided to leave because it was getting cool and we knew she would be freezing. I wrapped a throw around her legs and one around her shoulders. She started screaming (seriously) "Well, I'm about to freeze!" "Hey! I'm cold" and on and on.....She never shut her mouth from there to the car. My purse being the black hole that it is had swallowed my keys. I dug and dug, looking frantically for them before she had a come-apart. She began complaining, then she turned to me and screeched "Well HURRY UP, I'm a freezing!!!" Without missing a beat, Rebekah popped her arm like a child and said, "Shut-up!" I nearly peed my pants. Moma said, "If you ever hit me again, I'll get up and slap the shit outta you". And of course Rebekah yelled back, "DO IT!!!" Sigh....I was so tired. My arms were aching from pushing the old woman and my mind and ears were so sick of processing the complete and total nonsense that she had regurgitated all day. I was ready to get home!
The next morning, Penny came at 7:30 so I could participate in the "Smoke Your Buns" 5K. I quit after 2 miles. My sister-in-law, niece and I were dead last and I saw no reason for the employees to stand their ground for the 3 of us. They would see us coming and start taking up their barricades and cones. Quite embarrassing! and I am soooooo out of shape (shame on me) and to be completely honest, I am so competitive that if I cannot at least place, I am not playing. (Yes, I fight this competitive spirit DAILY) So, now I am known as "the quitter". This too shall pass....I laugh and say I only came for the tee shirt. (not) So, when I got home, Penny was painting her toenails while Moma critiqued her. (Penny was going to be in our church fashion show yesterday.) She had been to an estate sale and brought Moma some house shoes, gowns and summer robes. Moma was thrilled with them. She put on an award winning performance. But the real joy of my day was later.
I decided since I am such a loser (the race, my weight, my life) that I needed to get some stuff done. I was going to tackle the deck and patio and get it ready for my Wal-Mart (trailer park) pool! Please note that I hide this pool on my patio so that only the VERY close by can see it (close by meaning standing on my patio). I began as soon as she departed the kitchen for her room. It was terribly nasty from animal hair, pollen, dirt, insects, etc so my job was laid our for me. I was going great guns when I heard that walker.....ugh. So I went in and took care of what she needed, sent her on her way, and went back to work. It was no time when I heard her again. Again, I met her need and she went back to her room. When I heard her up the 3rd time, I just went inside and brought her out on the deck with me (because she has this built in radar and she was not going to stop). She piled up in the swing (or swang as she calls it) and bossed a bit. "Hey, you missed a spot....look behind you!" "Hey, why don't you......" I tried to ignore her before I killed her. The thing that bothers me the most though is when she starts moving things around while I am working. For example, I placed some random things on a bench while I prepared the place they were to go. She started putting them up under the bench, in the windows, on my plant stand, etc. You can never just finish a job without her butting in. I HATE THAT MORE THAN ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ( Leave me alone and stay out of my business!) She is such a busy body! I pictured tossing her over the end of the deck several times. It gave me enough peace to finish what I was doing without even addressing her sins. But the funniest (I laugh now) thing she did was to pile up in my swing, propped up on pillows (head and feet) and call me from the patio. I got up there and she said in that growly voice "You got anything good to drink?" So I went in and fixed the princess a glass of tea (which she spilled, because you cannot lie in a swing and drink tea). I fixed that princess "something good to drink" at least 6 times before I just flat out ignored her. If you could have seen her......hair awry, pink fluffy robe, God awful red house shoes with white socks, and smelling like the sewer, weighing in at 85 pounds, talking to me like she was Miss Daisy......I hate her.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Trip to DQ

Sometimes, only a trip to DQ will cure what ails you.





Saturday, April 7, 2012

Not me this time

Tonight we had a rack of ribs, chicken fingers, baked beans and chips for supper. Moma was not supposed to get ribs according to Mr. Payne. But, of course, when she saw them on my plate, she just had to have some. I tore her off a small part (while Mr. Payne is screaming "NO") and put it on her plate, but that would not do for the little princess. She wanted the whole rib. I began to tear if off for her because I'd rather just let her have her way about some things than argue with her. Mr. Payne went into some kind of RAGE and lost his mind over the whole thing. He screamed at me....over her greediness! (Has he met her?) He then snatched up his plate and went to the den with his food. She said, "Boy, he shore got his bowels in an uproar, didn't he?" She then began to complain about how tough the meat was and that she could not eat it. Ugh......There is no charge for the entertainment in this zoo. Come on by.
(See, I'm not the only one she makes crazy)

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

I know you will think I am lying on this little old woman, but I SWEAR it is the truth.

Tonight, while cooking supper, I gave Moma a can of Ensure to hold her over while I cooked. She still says she is hungry, even though she does not really eat. I heard her telling the dogs, "You can't have this" and "I don't have anything to give you". Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her! I heard it! I walked around the table and knew it was true. She sucked up a mouthful in her straw and spit it in the floor for the dogs to lick up. YES SHE DID!!!!! She lied and swore she spilled it. NO, I saw it, I heard it, and it was splattered everywhere, not spilled. Grrrrr.......I hate her.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Refusing to Eat

Moma is in one of those stages where she won't eat. She doesn't physically refuse the food but she moves it around on her plate, takes bites and many times spits it out in her hand and throws it back on the plate. I am sure that there is no great taste for her anymore. She doesn't even really care anything about her chocolate milk. She will still eat oatmeal and drink coffee. I have instructed the sitter that she is not to be encouraged to eat, drink, take medicines, or do anything else she doesn't want to. She can no longer control her bowels or urination. She is losing some of her vision. I think her body is trying to lead her in a certain direction. I am almost positive that she has another UTI, but the nurses keep saying that she is just dehydrated. She drinks tea, water, milk and coffee every day. If you pray, please pray a) for God's will and b) that he will have mercy on her. It is not mine to ask why, but I cannot understand her still being here in this tiny little shell, with no clue half the time where she is. The truly sad, and somewhat funny, thing is that if she were an animal we would have already euthanized her. She was my best friend for most of my life. I hate seeing her like this.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Old Lady Radar

I would like to know at what age do you get your old lady radar? I know it exists because Mildred Hall has it. She can be DEAD asleep, but let me open a bag of cookies.......
For instance, today I seriously need to make a LONG HAUL at Wal-Mart. I know that nobody is going to allow this to happen, so I'll have to wait for my knight in shining armor to come home from the golf course this afternoon. So, what to do until then? OH I KNOW! I'll lay out in the sun....yeah.....that's what I want to do! I gather my "laying out supplies; phones, book, sunglasses, hat, etc, then I put on my bathing suit (grunt). I move the Moma monitor to the deck so that I can hear her grunt and carry on in her sleep (and know when she gets up). I make sure the front door is locked, feed the dogs, and get to my chair. AHHHHHHHH!!!! What's that? I hear her. She's opening a drawer. She is grunting....good sign. That means she is still in her room. Time is ticking away. I listen....................she is moving around in her drawers. Maybe she is only changing her diaper. I listen intently........nothing. SHE IS UP! Of course she is.....time in the sun? 10 minutes.
Now that she's fed and gone back to bed? My daughter and her friend are sunning on the deck in MY chairs. Sigh................When I get old, I am driving somebody to drink. That is a promise.

Saturday, March 31, 2012

GrAnDmA

If Moma called her momma's name when she was a little girl as much as she does now, then my great grandma was a flipping saint. I am listening to her lay in bed and call "Momma......Moooooommmmmmaaaaaa, Momma, I want some water!" Poor Grandma....

Friday, March 30, 2012

JUST SO YOU KNOW......
YOU CANNOT SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU.......

If you choose to take in a little old person, like mine. Fortify yourself..........You'll do 3 times the loads of laundry that you are used to. Sometimes 4 and 5 times (when there is a UTI or virus, etc.)

NOW YOU CAN'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU!

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Crazy as Hell and a Subway to boot

Yesterday I had lunch with a precious friend who fears Mildred. She fears her dying on her. She fears what she might say or do. But she also thinks Mildred is hilarious. I say all that to say that she understands that my life rarely is fun and she tries to do little things to "reward" me from time to time for my perseverance in all this madness. She cooked country fried steak, gravy, biscuits, and "mashed taters". We had such a nice visit. Then I had to come home to complete and total insanity. She was asleep when I got home, but soon I heard her rousing. She came into the kitchen asking that usual stupid question "Who's gone help me?" I tried to have a conversation with her but she couldn't hear me for the voices in her head apparently. She began to scream and carry on like a total imbecile. She asked me to call her daddy and ask him if he would take care of her. Then she told me to call Alene and ask her to take care of her (both dead, and Alene Butler would not consider taking care of my grandmother unless it was going to promote her or make her rich). She kept saying "I got to go to bed" and trying to get up but landing back in the chair. Finally, I got up and got her one of her new magic pills Dr. Robinson prescribed for her psychosis. She took it and began screaming (yes, screaming!) I sat back down to my paper I was writing. When she saw I was not going to be alarmed, she said, "I'll go out in the street. I'll get more help that way". She got up and headed toward her room (I thought) but detoured to the front door, opened it and began to scream "HELLLLLLP! Somebody HELLLLLP me!!" The urge to push her on out the door was fairly strong, but my next door neighbor is a cop, so nix that. I grabbed her and sat her fairly roughly on the sofa. She drew back her fist at me. I just took her walker, folded it up and took it to my room and closed the door. She began to wail like someone had shot her dog. "They've taken everything away from me. I can't get around. (long pause, change of voice) I'm gone find me something to get around with...." and with that she was up and back to her room. I expected more drama but by then the magic had taken effect, and the craziness was in voice alone. She talked a blue streak, but never got up until supper time.

Today, she has been bossy. She has told me how to do everything but take a breath. She woke me up bossing. I tried to change her sheets and before I could tuck the corners, she was telling me to tuck them. I'm sure the nurse's aid called DHR on her way out the door the way we were screaming at each other. I hate days like this. It seems like every time she would get settled, someone would come in. She finally got settled after her bath, when the chaplain came in. I know he has to come, but we are all Christians, who belong to a church with a pastor (even though hers doesn't know she's still alive). We have Bibles and we all have scripture hidden in our hearts. GRMC could save a dime in that area with us. ANYWAY....he came in and got her all stirred up. She puts on a good show for him. So I figured I'd feed her lunch while she was alert. Penny had made her some 15 Bean Soup, so I warmed that. She complained that I'd fixed too much but ate every bite! Christopher came up and wanted Subway, so I let him get me one too, knowing I'd have to give her part of it (even though she cannot eat them and complains when we get her one). When he got back, I had cleaned up her mess, and she was just sitting at the table. It was written all over her face....she was dying to say something. Christopher and I were mumbling to each other to watch her. I sat down with a knife, ready to cut her a bit of my sandwich. "WHERE'S MINE?" she demanded. I held up the knife, "I plan to cut you some", and with that I cut her a small section of my sub, put it on a napkin and put it in front of her. Immediately that lip curled up and she made some smart comment about starving to death over the small piece I cut her. Rage flew over me, and I shoved the whole sandwich at her! "Take the whole damn thing!" I shouted and walked out. Sometimes, I just want to walk out the door and never look back.

Monday, March 26, 2012

Spring Break

Yes, it is the first day of spring break, and here I sit at home with this old woman.  I tried to have a really good attitude about it. I thought we might get out some, go to the mall, get lunch or better yet....ice cream. But if today is any indication of what this week has in store for me....all I can say is HELL to the NO, not taking her anywhere! She is bossy and mean today. She is totally in charge and likes it that way. At 8:30, she swung my bedroom door open and bellowed "I want something to eat!" I hate her today. She tried to argue with the nurse's aid who came to bathe her, but I did intervene there. She complained about her lunch, asked for ice cream afterward and complained about that too. I am actually looking forward to the doctor's appointment today that I have been dreading for weeks.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Shout Out

A great big SHOUT OUT to Taylor Whitaker Murray for coming to my rescue Friday night!!!

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Ripples and Ripples of Water Under the Bridge

Gee, so much has transpired since I last wrote.....summary? Ok! She has been mean and bossy, nosy and annoying, hateful and stubborn, greedy and thieving. I realize that is the definition of Moma, but take those to the 25th power. Now you get it?
I must go into detail about a recent event. Let's back up to Tuesday evening. She refused to eat a banana sandwich for supper but would not let me fix her ANYTHING. Fine. She went to bed. Hubby came home and I went to the track for a rousing 3 mile jaunt (great for the stress level). When I came home, she had not been up, so I went about my routine getting ready for bed. I took my bath and washed my hair, pj'd up and got settled on my bed for "Body of Proof" with my heating pad (no, I'm not in shape yet!) It was a good episode, and right smack dab in the middle of it, I hear that infernal sound of her walker. Grrrr.....I figured she just wanted diapers, but no. "Julie, you gotta come help me." "Help you what?" I asked in fear. "I've shit all over the place". KILL ME NOW. Knowing now what I didn't know then, I wish God had just smacked me down dead. Reluctantly, I followed her into her room. The aroma of you-know greeted us as we approached her room. I didn't really see anything much, but smelled it so I knew it was there....somewhere.  She had some "skidmarks" on the bed but I found the disgusting treasure in her bedside commode and her garbage can. I emptied them into a garbage bag, tied it up and began stripping her bed. I then took the pot to the bathroom for a thorough cleaning. Garbage emptied, pot clean, bed stripped and remade.....that wasn't so bad. But, she then got on the pot......the story goes bad downhill from here so I'm going to shortcut it for you. Her "tail" (as she referred to it) was hurting, but it appeared she had diarrhea. I knew what that meant. Glove up.....it's dig time. I put a pad on the bed, stripped her and rolled her over on her side. Yes.....I dug it out. Didn't call for any reinforcements because there were none, and I knew it. She screamed and I cursed. She slapped me and I popped her back. It was bad ugly. I was mean to her. It was NOT her fault, but if you know me, you know that I hate that sort of thing. God knew not to call me into nursing...... The truly bad thing was after I "dug her out", the oozing began of all the backed up stuff. It was just running. She wasn't doing it, she couldn't control it. I'd get her cleaned up and a fresh diaper and back in the bed, and her diaper would be full and running out the legs. I changed her bed 4 or 5 times in 3 1/2 hours. We went through all her gowns because she kept dragging them through it either on the bed or the commode. She had to change house shoes 3 times because she pulls her legs up in bed and was wagging her shoes through it. I thought she was disappearing from the inside out. It stunk so bad, I gagged and gagged (while there was peace on earth outside her door). I wanted her to sit on the toilet until it stopped. She kept wiping and wiping.  She had her bottom bleeding. She was screaming in pain from the raw skin. I finally moved the tissue, the toilet paper, and the wipes, so she would be forced to stop wiping. She just used her hand. YES! and then wiped it on the bed. AUGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! The urge to just kill her was getting stronger. It was like she was doing the exact opposite of what I was asking her to do for pure meanness. I did talk very ugly to her which I have asked forgiveness for (and still feel guilty) I was exhausted. It was after midnight and I knew I'd never get up for work the next day, so I finally gave her enough drugs to kill her, put her in the bed, went into the dark living room and cried. I realized that I smelled like it, plus I had sweat like a man, so I took yet another bath and re-washed my hair. I laid in the bathtub and cried and prayed. I was in a very bad place. When I finally hit the bed, my body ached, my head was throbbing, and I was nauseated from the smell. The fear of my killing her with the medicines I gave her sank in. I laid in pain, wide awake for what seemed like hours. I went into work late the next day, and cried all the way. Good grief............
Sorry for the disgusting post, but I promised to be brutally honest. Now go have you a big lunch! Have a brownie, on Mildred.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Her Prayer...

(Moma, lying almost upside down in my brown chair, praying to Jesus because she is mad at me for not abandoning my school work to fix her lunch. She ate breakfast 2 hours ago.)

Moma: Jesus.....Jesus.....Send me somebody to love me. Send me a momma. I got a momma, she was sooooooooo good to me. She taught me to love you. She was sooooooo good, Lord. Momma! Momma! Tell Jesus to send me somebody to love me. I want something to eat. Send me somebody good to fix me some dinner and love me. Lord.....If I stood out on the street, could I find me somebody to love me and take me out to eat? Could I? Jesus....Jesus? I am hungry and I want something to eat. Jesus, what can I do? What can I do?  (eyes open, and she sits up) I know what I'll do....I'll go sit at the table 'til they fix my dinner!

I finally got up to go fix her lunch. She has complained about being cold all morning, so I figured soup was in store. I fixed it and set it before her. I returned to my school work. She ate 2 bites, and said, "HEY! I don't want this.....I don't like it", and got up and went to her room.

I hate her.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Where is that straight jacket?

I am so tired.....so sick and tired.....of CRAZY! She has been "dying" for days now and hasn't gone any where yet. She screams and cries...."Help me Lord! HELP ME LORD!!!!!!!!!!!" Of course, in the next breath she is cursing. This afternoon she made Rebekah cry. My little mean girl was brought to tears by the 78 pound crazy woman. Now, that is just wrong. It should be the other way around, to make sense, I mean.
She came into the kitchen this afternoon to get something for her head. She claimed it hurt, but then said, "It ain't a hurtin', it's swimmin'" (Get your story straight!). I sent her to bed to lie down so her head would stop hurting, and she would get out of my hair. She began that crazy screaming, and then my name came up. "Julie.....Julie....Julie......Juuuuuullllliiiieeeeeeeeeeee........JUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"   I went into her room. "What?" I simply asked. "Com'ere" I walked over to her bed. She held up her arm she cut a day or so ago. "Put a banday on this". All that screaming for that tiny cut, which is healing, I might add. I put the band-aid on, left the room to only have to repeat the entire performance over a cut on her leg. This time, she changed the story about the cut. She claims to have fallen and cut her foot. I checked. NOPE, same old scabbed over cut on the back of her leg where the dog scratched her. She is doing this thing where if you question her, she gets mad and curses you out. She kept insisting I put something on the cut on her leg first before the band-aid. I put a little Vaseline on it. She went berserk, cursing and screaming at me. "That ain't gone help! DAMN VASELINE!" I wadded up the band-aid wrappers and put them in the trash and walked out. You cannot reason with her, question her, or even have a conversation with her unless you are as freaking crazy as she is. I'm almost there.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Apology to girl at Jack's

In my last post, I said that I wished that I could type the hollering and screaming thing that Moma does. It used to startle me, but now it just makes me want to slap her. So today, I needed to go to the hospital to visit my aunt because she had been alone all day with no visitors (BOLO for my other family members), and she was wallowing in self pity (and making me feel guilty), and she was confused about going to rehab tomorrow, AND she wanted a chocolate milk shake. So, I had no choice but to load up the nutwagon and head out. We got in the car, and I decided that Jack's was probably the best milkshake in town, so I went through the drive-through. I ordered one small chocolate shake for Edna and one small vanilla for the nut in the passenger seat. We pulled up to the window and I gave the girl my debit card when all of a sudden, Mildred let out with one of her war hoops to the twenty-fifth power. That little girl looked like she had seen a ghost (I wish), and she handed me back my debit card and slammed the window shut. She opened it in just a minute, handed out straws and shakes and couldn't get it shut fast enough. I guess she had never seen a 98.5 year old with Einstein hair screaming like a Banshee waiting on a milk shake. God love her. I apologize dear, I'll try to keep our run-throughs at Jack's to a minimum.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Prayers requested.....

Lately my posts have all been negative and nasty. Well, today "ain't no different". She has been like a child all day; an unruly child; a retarded child with an IQ of less than 65; a child who may find herself drinking rat poison if she doesn't behave. She is doing all this hollering. I wish I could type it so you could get a good idea of what it sounds like. Then she does a screaming routine. And her coughing spells.......that always conveniently happen when I am on the phone.
The dog scratched her leg today (so she says), and that old thin skin just ripped into a perfect V. She sat on the sofa screaming and carrying on like her eyeball had been clawed out. She was screaming "Come doctor my leg (pronounced Laig)!!" "JUUUUUUULLLLLLIIIIIE!!! I need a band-ay!!!" "Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiii I want somebody to doctor my leg!" I wanted to take duct tape and wrap around her scrawny little leg. Since that would just be wrong, I went into one of my Gan green spills. "You know if you don't stop picking at your leg, you might get gan green. Then they'll have to cut your leg off below the knee. I'm not sure how you'll get around. I guess you'll just be laid up in the bed all the time." She said, "I ain't a picking at it!" I said, "Yes you are and you have doo-doo under your fingernails, so you will get gan green. I hope they only cut off your foot." Now how mean is that? Mean, but WELL deserved.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Couldn't hate her more...

Tonight, I couldn't hate her more. After a busy day at work, I came home to her craziness (screaming and carrying on), walked on the tread mill, ordered pizza and went to the hospital for 2 or so hours.Then came home and she was crazier than ever! You cannot imagine the screaming and hollering. Jerking and shaking.....if you didn't know what an actress she is, you'd think she was having some kind of seizure. I AM WORN OUT! All I wanted was a bath.....no, had to medicate her and try to get her crazy tail settled in the bed. Finally got her settled, covered up, and about to tell her goodnight when she said, "Hey, have we got any chocolate milk?" I wanted to put my hands around her scrawny neck and KILL HER! I told her she would just have to wait until I got my bath, and as I turned and walked out of her room, I noticed that she had stolen a figurine that Rebekah got for Christmas (Rebekah hated it, but at this point, it was the principle). I snatched it up and walked out with it. She started screaming...."HEY! You bring that back!!" Then she got up and came after me. I had hidden it by the time she got to me. We had a short screaming match with her telling me how sorry I'd be, and me dragging her into her room and threatening her about not leaving her room again.
I am so sick of CRAZY! She has been more crazy every day. She had the nerve to ask me to pray with her tonight. She really doesn't want me  praying with her.....BECAUSE I AM PRAYING FOR HIM TO TAKE HER HOME!!!!!!! Yes, I hate her tonight.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

I'm a dying...............

Moma cannot stand it because my aunt is in the hospital. It is literally killing her that there is nothing wrong with her, and that my aunt is getting my attention. So, when I got home today, she started that screaming and praying. She would come into the kitchen screaming for help, then leave....back and forth. I gave her 2 Benedryl thinking that might make her sleepy enough to leave me alone. So, finally she came into the kitchen screaming and carrying on. She said, "Help me....I'm a dying!" I ignored her as long as I could. Finally, I turned and yelled "You are too damn mean to die". Forgive me.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Burning the candle at both ends.....

My mother used to tell me that all the time. "Julie, you are burning the candle at both ends, and it will catch up with you." I would just laugh and think, "yeah, right" Well, I am 52 and still doing it. It has more than caught up with me. I am ill, grouchy, worn out, and fat. I have high blood pressure, arthritis, overgrowth of yeast (that is currently killing me) and I am quite sure a big fat, ready to bleed ulcer. So what else can we add to all my stress? Oh, just let me tell you.......
It was an awful week at school. AWFUL! Then Friday was just plain busy; a fairly good day but a Black History program and a dance in one day. Then, Kerry and I went out with friends to get out of our 3 ring circus life. Saturday morning, got up bright and early to go work at the fire station/museum (Alabama City Historical Association). I didn't HAVE to get up bright and early, but Mildred made sure I was up bright and early! (ugh) While down there working, got a call from MEDIC ALERT, that my Aunt Edna had pressed her alarm but could not answer the phone and the medics were in route. I sent Sherry running because I am worthless in those situations; besides I was busy working and she was just talking. She had Erin, but she stayed with me. She didn't get back to my house until 9:30ish. Then Sunday morning, Mildred got me up even  brighter and even earlier than the day before. (I hate her) I was downstairs doing some laundry and getting clothes out to wear today. I was bending over the towel basket, and pulled it out a little to get something that had fallen behind it. The next thing I knew, I was picking myself up off the floor, stars circling my head like in the cartoons (didn't hear birds) and getting the cast iron bed rail off my shoulder that had fallen and hit me on the head. I thought I must surely be bleeding. I haven't felt that much pain in a long time. I literally saw stars!!! I was moaning, but don't worry....didn't wake up my sleeping son. Then I came upstairs to wake Rebekah because she was going to keep Mildred for me. I asked her to check my head to make sure I wasn't bleeding and to look at my pupils. But don't worry.....she didn't budge. Ahhhhh......my loving family. My honey was worshiping the Lord or he would have checked me out (after he screamed at me for putting those rails there in the first place) And, then I had to leave at 11:30 to meet my group in Leeds (in the middle of a vast nowhere) to finish our project which is due Tuesday (we finished!) I feel a little bit better for having turned that in today, but so much stress to look forward to. Will be expected to be at the hospital tomorrow (and every day after that while she is there) after school to check on Edna. Then there is supper to cook; GOT to color this hair, and I have to force myself to start walking or working out or something. So, enough about me. (ha)
I have to share this one funny. Mildred has been awful and mean all weekend. Friday when Connie left, as soon as the storm door shut, she yelled "Goodbye Bitch!" Oh, my stupid stupid life......

Saturday, February 18, 2012

She's a Flake

One of the things that we have to do since Moma moved in is SCOUR the tub after every bath she takes. Rebekah and I are constantly asking "Is the tub clean?" You see, old people seem to lose so much skin when they bathe. The sides of the tub are coated with flaky scum that makes me want to puke just writing this. Moma is not going to die. She is just going to slowly "flake away". GROSS!

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Stinky

The only thing to report of late is.....she poops her pants. She stinks. Then she lies about the poop. Gag.....

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Very Bad Little Child

Today, Mildred has just been a bad child. She woke up bright and early with a soiled bed (a typical Saturday morning for me). After breakfast, she followed me to her room. I had to change her bed and clean up her bedside commode. She seemed to be in my way, every where I turned. I was trying to just ignore her, but finally I had to say....."You are in my way, and I need you to move across the room!". The next thing I knew, she was raking a million wire coat hangers out from under her shelf. They were just all strewn out in the floor. She began kicking them toward the hall. I told her NOT to put them out there. She started screaming that she didn't know how they got under there. After a screaming match with her, I picked them up (of course). She is obsessed with hangers! She has NOT shut her mouth all day. She hasn't slept much today at all. She has been too busy asking questions, nosing through our things, and threatening to throw the new hamper I just bought for her room out the front door. As if being bad and busy is not enough, she still has the poop thing going on. If she were a dog, we'd have already put her down.

Friday, February 10, 2012

I don't even have a title for this madness......

Wednesday afternoon I came home to a crazy old woman who had no clue who anyone was. She was a little bit nasty, but a LOT crazy. I had gotten the news that Mr. Payne was not coming home for supper, so I had no big supper plans....maybe some chicken salad and crackers. So, since there was no pressure, I piled up on my bed with my laptop and some TV. She came into the kitchen demanding (yes, demanding!)something to eat. It was only like 4:30, so I gave her a banana and an Ensure. She went to her room when she finished. In no time, she was back......."Ye got any pannies?" I got up and gave her several pair to take back to her room. She disappeared for a bit. Rebekah came in and we ate our chicken salad (Thanks to Cheryl Taylor, I have to call her every time I make it because Paula Deen I ain't). Rebekah was concerned that I wasn't going to go get her to eat. I assured her that she had her snack and would get up a bit later for her supper. So, after we ate, again, I piled up in my bed looking forward to Criminal Minds and Revenge (my new addiction). Wouldn't you know it? She waited until I was good and settled and here she came. She stood in the door and informed me that her diaper was "just a drippin'". Rage flew over me. I jumped up and literally ran her back to her room to get her changed. Her diaper was full of #2. I just cannot find the words to express the disgust and despair that I feel for her. I never knew just how repulsive this journey was going to get. I literally gag when I clean up after her. I use rubber gloves and still wash my hands obsessively because I feel so completely violated. She cannot help it and I know that. But I can't help my feelings of helplessness, hopelessness and disgust. The night rocked on like this. She was up every 20-30 minutes wanting something. By the way, we did feed her some oatmeal and another banana.
I have prayed through this and asked for God's will. I don't want it any other way, but His way. But I also pray that God will keep Kerry and me healthy so that when she finally makes her way to the other side, that he and I can spend good quality time together. It doesn't seem fair that we have raised our children, but still have no quality time together. I long for his companionship, but we almost have to lead separate lives so that someone is here with her all the time. I cannot afford to pay sitters for day and night too. I am not writing this to bring anyone down. I promised myself that I would be honest and true in this blog so that I may be a help to someone facing the same thing. It is not a pretty life, nor sweet as one might believe.  I know that my God will make a way.....where there seems to be no way. He always has, and He always will.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Sad but Still Nasty

Tonight at supper, Moma was kind of sweet, but yet still mean and nasty too. Rebekah has really turned a tender heart toward Moma (and ran interference between the two of us last night at supper). Moma would ask a crazy question, I would sigh, and Rebekah would answer her so sweetly. Then Moma would say something ugly, and Rebekah would respond to her so much like a responsible adult would (unlike me). Then, she pushed her bowl of taco soup away and said, "That ain't worth a shit". Rebekah offered to fix her cheese toast or oatmeal. She encouraged her to eat. Me? Oh I was busy visualizing dumping the soup in her lap.

Monday, February 6, 2012

This is how much my grandmother appreciates the little things I do for her. She is a hot mess!!!!
This is just proof of the kind of weekend I had with this old woman. She was not pleasant ONE MINUTE. She hated everything and everybody. The feeling was mutual.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

She is trying to kill me.............really!


I know it has been awhile since I posted, but really, I think she is trying to kill me. She was crazy as a loon last night. Kerry went to a basketball game, Bek was at her play (TOG's On Golden Pond @ The Ritz), Christopher was at work, and I hoped for a quiet evening ALONE (meaning  her asleep and me with my laptop doing school work). Did NOT happen. She was doing that crazy screaming out every few minutes. I am going to try to upload a video of the nonsense. Then, she got very nasty. She called me everything but White and a Child of God. I begged her to go to bed. She was insistent that she was going to stay up. So, I turned out the kitchen lights and TV and told her she could sit in the den or go to bed, but that I was NOT staying in the kitchen. I walked out on her in the dark. She finally came into the den. She sat her happy hiney down on the arm of my chair. I begged her to sit in Kerry's recliner (formerly hers). She refused. She said she'd just sit by me. I made pictures with my iPhone so you could see the proximity of her "closeness". It got worse. I finally gave up and moved to the recliner myself. Then she slumped down into the chair and began her sleeping and then screaming routine. I woke her and said, "Let me help you to your bed". She sat up and screamed, "I am not going to bed right now!" Then she got up and walked all over the den, messing with things, but I let her alone hoping she'd stroll on off to bed. Then she started toward me. She took her walker and slammed it into the side of my recliner about 6 times before I grabbed it and told her to knock it off. Then she just stood over me, grunting and breathing. I gently (because I really didn't want to knock her down, although the visual was lovely) pushed the walker back and said, "Go back to your chair and sit down". For some unknown reason, she did. At 9:00, when Christopher came in from work, he convinced her to let him take her to her room. I still had on my school clothes......if you know me....you know that I prefer to get my bath and get in my jammies asap! I was absolutely exhausted. I got up and went to bed.





Woke up this morning around 8ish. Ate my breakfast first, then got hers started and went to wake her. There she lay, NO DIAPER with poop smeared from one end to the other. I don't know how she kept her feet out of it. I had such an urge to just put the pillow over her face and finish her off, but all the dead relatives pictures were staring at me.....so I just commenced cleaning her nasty tail up. She was HORRIBLE all day. My name has been "damn bitch" or "hateful bitch" most of the day. She threatened me over some out of date Tylenol that I tossed. ("You better go get my medicine or you'll be sorry!") I tried to keep from arguing with her because I am currently not on blood pressure medicine and I want to keep it that way. An old friend called and as we talked, she commented about Moma screaming in the background. She finally went to lie down around 4. When Kerry got home from getting our supper, I went to wake her up, and there she was, just like I found her this morning. No Diaper, poop everywhere! She is seriously trying to kill me.

Monday, January 30, 2012

Not Happy!

One of the things you must deal with when you are a caregiver, is other people in your home. One of my best friends recently made an awesome statement. He said, "People are so overrated, get a dog!" He was being funny, but sometimes, I would agree with that 100%. I get so aggravated at what people do and don't do. Like today, when I got home, the sitter had dismissed herself at 2:20, and dumped Moma on Rebekah. So, when I got home, I could hear Moma on the monitor screaming "HELP" like she was in big trouble. I listened to it for a while, then went to investigate. There she lay, naked as a jaybird, screaming "My bed is wet! My gown is wet! HELP ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Grrrrrr..............the urge to kill was fierce. I have worked all day, and I came home to this. One thing I am looking forward to when Moma crosses over. I will never, NEVER (as God is my witness) have people in and out of my house like this again. I will reclaim my home, and lock the door! I am fed up....

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Saturday

Today, 2 of my classmates came up to work on a project. Of course, this sent Mildred into overdrive. She was up every 30 minutes messing and asking stupid questions. Today she was back to her sassy, nasty self! One funny:
Her: "Hey Lady!"
Me: "What?"
Her: "Aren't you the one we buy our hose from?"
I am not now, nor have I ever sold stockings or pantyhose.

Friday, January 27, 2012

Moma: Hey Lady! How do I get in touch with Thelma?
Me: Aunt Thelma?
Moma: my sister, Thelma!
Me: You will have to go to Heaven to talk with her
Moma: Thelma's dead?
Me: (I nod)
Moma: I can't believe it
Me: Believe it
She turned and left the room, and said, "I got some thinking to do".

Thursday, January 26, 2012

As I stand over Little Precious on her bedside commode, grunting and wiping herself, I look all over the room at the family pictures....and I begin to talk to them. Yes, I will admit, crazy as it sounds, it is my new behavior. I cannot stand the total stupidity of the things I have been reduced to doing, so I have a conversation with all the deceased relatives' pictures. As she drags the toilet paper from back to front (gag), I look at my beautiful mother and say, "Mother, COME GET HER!" While she is peeing on her hand as she continues to wipe (with no knowledge of it), I look at my father...."Daddy, look at your mother! This is so disgusting. Please come and get her." I call on Aunt Thelma, Grandma Payne, and Popaw. "Seriously, y'all....(I begin), this is no longer cute. She is nasty and she has no clue what she is doing......HELP ME!" She is busy wiping herself and tossing the soiled tissue in the floor. She grunts and sighs......I am looking around the room for advocates in Heaven to go to the Father on my behalf. It is no longer for selfish reasons (See, I have grown a little through this). I know that my prissy little Moma would absolutely DIE if she were in her right mind and could see herself. I hate that she calls me "Lady" and tonight it was "Womern". I hate that she doesn't know where she lives or who she lives with. I do not enjoy her refusing to eat or take medicine. I think even in her muddled state, she is giving up. I hate it! I want to sit on her porch, count doodlebugs, drink Dr. Pepper, and laugh and laugh.......I miss her.
This morning, the Lord and I had a serious discussion about her. He knows my heart. He knows her heart. He promised it won't be long. (Of course His time table is not like mine, so I'm now asking for a date.....He is shaking his head and sighing.....) She told me at supper tonight that she was dying. I asked her when (it couldn't hurt). She said, "Tonight". We'll see........

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Woes

You know, I have to remind myself that I started this blog so that it can be a help to someone who might be just beginning this journey or facing the potential of it. I get caught up in the funny things and totally forget the "ughs" and the "sighs..." and the frustrations of being a daily caregiver. I was faced with one of the woes this morning. I was so proud that I was out of bed and busy by 6am. I was actually going to be ON TIME for work. But, the phone rang......and my sitter shared with me that she was not feeling up to par and could I call the sub sitter.....and blah blah blah. GRRRRRRR.....................not mad at her, just that pent up frustration of "I will never be on time for work, much less early!" and "I cannot win for freaking losing!" Needless to say, I called and woke up the sub sitter who graciously agreed to come. She, of course, could not be there by 7am when I need to leave, so I had to call the assistant principal (who is also gracious about my tardies) and report that once again, I would be late. So, I am saying all this to say......you cannot plan on anything ever working to your advantage....EVER.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Barely existing

Moma is just barely in existence. She hardly eats a morsel. She refuses to take her medicine. She lays her head on the table. She wants to sleep 98% of the time. It just makes you question why in the world God is leaving her here. She is lost most of the time; calls me "Lady". She asks for her momma daily..... DAILY! So sad! But tonight......little precious called Mr. Payne "Pretty Boy" at the supper table. It was priceless.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Short post

I only have one thought at present. Poopy diapers are becoming the norm.....that is all. Oh and how much stupider can my life become?

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Saturday Morning Circus

Woke up at 7ish because I knew I'd have to have Moma fed before I left 12 year old Erin in charge. Had plans to be at "clean up day" at the museum. We made arrangements for women prisoners to come help us clean up after the renovations. Decided to get myself ready first. Then got her breakfast going, and went to wake her. I told her that we needed to change her diaper first. She argued, I won. Diaper was full of #2.....gag......gag....gag. Okay, I didn't mind this when it was my children, but they were my children! This was just going to be nasty. I gloved up, then proceeded to clean her up. Surprise surprise, she had doodoo on her gown too. Oh! and her bed? it was soaked. YES! This was what I wanted to wake up to. Seriously, not sure how much more I can handle. Since then, we have changed her bed 2 more times, her clothes 2 more times, and she is still a high risk of doing it again.....it's only 6:36. Sigh....................................................

Monday, January 16, 2012

The Grumpy Dwarf

Moma is feeling a little bit better. This crud has just about killed all of us (a great big thanks to my sister Sherry). Dr. Robinson did send Moma out an antibiotic Friday, so she feels just enough better to be a serious grouch. She sits at the table and whines, "God help me! Help me Lord". I try to encourage her by saying that she will feel better if she eats, takes her medicine, etc. But her favorite part of being sick is the performance. She will cough cough cough (never covering her mouth), and then whine and say, "I feel so bad". (Yes, I feel your pain, I have the same thing you do) She will just sit and holler out, and moan, and whine.....when I have heard all I can take, I scoop her up and send her to bed. Between us being sick, the washer going out and the laundry piling up, I HAVE HAD IT! I feel like Snow White did when she entered that nasty little cottage. I want it all cleaned up, but unlike Snow White, I haven't the energy!

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Totally Nuts

After Moma pulled black eyed peas out of her robe pocket tonight at supper, she spoke such nonsense that a stranger would have thought she was drunk. She would say "HEY!" like a drunk, and then spout out some really crazy stuff like....."Where can I.........well, I want to know..................you know..............well SHIT! When are they gonna have that in Gadsden?" (dumbfounded look on my face) I say, "when are they gonna have what Moma?" She muttered something, then said, "awwww, it ain't a ballgame.....it's a.......awwww.....well, it's a big deal." Then her conversation turned to the ballgame. She asked where the ballgame was, how much it cost, where she could get a ticket and on and on......CRAZY! I kept trying to get her to finish eating and take her medicine, but she kept blowing me off. It was crazy!! When I finally got her to take her medicine, she swallowed her pills with her cough medicine, instead of water. I nearly fell out of my chair laughing. She made ugly faces and gagged and then stuck out her tongue with 3 pills still on it. What a nutwagon!!!