And the saga continues....

I had to step up again today and be the adult. That dreaded part of my life that makes me want to run crying for my blankie and stay in bed all day.

About two weeks ago, my mom became combative with her caregivers while they were trying to bathe my stepfather (she was jealous and thought they were trying to steal her guy). She then ran out of the house. "Eloped" is the word the social worker used today. A word that brings up a different scenario to me than how they use the word. Needless to say, 911 was called and my mother was brought to the hospital. She was kept there until midnight and then they finally decided to admit her for evaluation. I wasn't told until after the fact. I was told the next day, in fact, and that was by my sister. Not my brother who lives in the same state as I do. And really by then they had already sent her packing saying that she wasn't ready for "facility living", but they did give her some extra drugs. And if you've read my blog you know that I am not a fan of "let's drug them up so they don't give us any shit" when it comes to my mother and her Alzheimers.

So today I was bringing her to see a new doctor. It is a group of psychiatrists and social workers that specialize in geriatric care. Good place to be, I guess. I was a bit late in picking her up, but thankfully this new doctor is maybe 5 miles from her home and in an area that I am well familiar with. She seemed drugged. She could not hold a conversation and she could not follow simple instructions on how to get into my car. I literally had to lift her up to get her into the seat and then pretty much tug her out when we got there. I'm pretty sure if you asked her what my name was today, she couldn't tell you. Oh wait, they did ask her and she had no clue. The social worker took me and left her with a doctor. Then we came back together and another doctor came with with the social worker. They asked more questions (some of which I could not answer because I am not her POA or Conservator) and then basically told me that my mother is in the late stages of Alzheimers. Dude really? Like I didn't know this? Sigh. So we're charging medicaid and blue cross $150 for you to waste my time for 2 hours on one of the last days of summer vacation with my kids so you can tell me what I already know? Pulease.

And then they spoke of the fact that she needs some kind of stimulation during the day because that is likely why she isn't sleeping well at night. Not enough daytime stimulation and likely the current caregivers are not even aware of what should be happening with her. Adult day care. Oh terrific. Great. I want that for her too, but how the FUCK am I supposed to pay for it? Right. Did you not get the memo when I spoke to the social worker that all her care is paid for from my stepfather's lawyer? A lawyer that we did not hire and really was hired to act in my stepfather's best interest? Oh I'm sure she is a very nice lawyer, Miss Social Worker, but I've dealt with her before at my last house closing and she was a total and complete, unprofessional BITCH. So yeah, my brother will have to broach that subject. We may be able to get small grants through the state's Alzheimer's group. I have numbers and papers and my head is swimming. Oh and another appointment on September 9th.

So I bring her back to the house and her PM caregiver tells me that my mom is so much better now that she is home from the hospital. Yep. I'm sure she is, Miss Caregiver. She is loopy, can't think straight and shuffles around on her feet like an old woman. Of course, that is how you wanted her to begin with, right? Just one month ago, she was a totally different woman. And yes, she was still forgetful and couldn't always find the words she needed, but she wasn't like this.

I feel like a failure. No money, no job, no say...I cannot care for her here and I cannot care for her there. I can drive her to appointments. Big fuckin' whoop. Did I mention that I hate this part of my life?

Sitting at dance camp with the little girl

Why is it that parents think it is totally ok to let their other children run rampant in and out of dance rooms playing with things (mats, trampolines)? I swear that for the last 3 weeks, these other children have raised havoc and the mothers sit there chatting like nothing is going on and it has gotten to the point that the owner of the studio (whom is teaching & I am paying for little girl's dance camp) has asked the boys to chill out/stop running/etc. This week, she asked me to keep an eye on them as her foster daughter is among the crowd (but is not disruptive). This burns my biscuits. Why the heck should I have to watch your boys? Why shouldn't you be getting off your butts and watching them yourselves? Ugh. Empty threats don't work. Parenting does. For God's sake...TRY IT! I understand that kids are kids. I understand that sitting at dance camp for an hour and 15 minutes really isn't their thing, but then bring stuff to keep them occupied. Keep them occupied in your eyesight and stop allowing them to act like a bunch of hooligans. For the love of all that is good and right, GET OFF YOUR BUTTS!

Odd man out

Yep. That's me. I'm so tired of trying to fit in that I've decided to embrace not fitting in. As my sister says, "This is me. This is who I am." You can take me or leave me, but I am not going to feel badly.

I've decided that I'm going to focus on those people who like me and want to be with me. If you have problems with me and you can't be adult enough to speak to me then you are left with what you should be. Bitterness, anger, resentment - whatever. I've been on that side too. That's not a healthy place. Saying what is on your mind does not need to be rude although it is usually confrontational and uncomfortable. Most people do not like that, but the aftermath...the cleanse...is what makes it worth it.

I cannot make everyone happy. I cannot read minds. I will NOT feel guilty for either of these things because it is not my job. And believe me, as a mom, I feel enough guilt for things that are far more important.

I am not perfect. Far from it. But I have a heart and feelings and when someone makes it abundantly clear that I'm not important in their world, that hurts. I am forever trying to do the right thing and be the best person I can be, but sometimes I might have an off day...or hell an off three months. Here are my shoes, remember?

So yeah, I'm thankful for my friends, my family - those who know I am not perfect yet love me anyway and still see something in me that makes it worth having a relationship with me. Those are the people I am focusing on from now on because I have to believe that there is *something* good and worthwhile inside of me.

Getting healthy and losing weight - sometimes this journey sucks

I am trying to lose weight. 35lbs to be exact. The first month I shed 7 lbs. It wasn't too difficult. Now in my second month, I have lost nothing. In fact, if the scale was correct this morning, I am up two pounds. Now granted, I'm pretty sure it is water weight and the fact that I was camping without proper toilet facilities with a bunch of other people. Unfortunately, I am someone who is very regular while at home, but not so much when I am sleeping somewhere else especially with people who are not part of my family.

I am frustrated. I want this weight to be gone. I want to wake up and be thin again. I HATE LOATHE and DESPISE exercise. Some days I tell myself that I only have to walk on the treadmill just to get my arse on the stupid thing. Most days I end up running anyway. I push myself harder and harder because I am competitive. I want to break my old "record". I also know that my calories burned is higher while running...and the more distance I can get in the shortest amount of time is what I aim for. Distance * (body weight * .63) = net calories burned is what I go by for running. Walking is just a measly half of that. I want it NOW.

On the plus side, I have gone down a pants size. Things that didn't fit are fitting again. There are still quite a few things that are waiting on me to get even smaller though. I am holding out. I am going to keep on keeping on. Even now when I am tired and frustrated. I guess I just need to amp up my exercise and really eat clean. EVERY day. EVERY day is a new day to start again.

Final thoughts on being an adult caretaker

So my mom has now moved back into her home with her husband (my stepfather) with 24 hour paid care. I have met 3 of the 4 caretakers. I actually really like the daytime caregiver. She takes them places and my stepfather is clean, dressed well and looks 100 times better than he did the last time I saw him. I have no doubt that she will take great care of my mom as well.

This leads me to a new anxiety. Letting go and letting someone else take over the care for my mother. Don't get me wrong - caring for my mother was one of the most difficult and life changing things I have ever done. I was tired 99% of the time and in the final weeks, I just wanted an end to it all. I've missed out on so much with my kids and basically was stuck in my house for 3 months Tuesdays through Fridays.

Despite all that, I took my role as an adult caregiver very seriously. I tried very hard to treat my mother the way that I would want to be treated if I were in her position. I didn't make her wear Depends even though it probably wasn't a bad idea. I did end up having her wear them to bed the last couple of weeks because she would forget where the bathroom was and how to go by herself. I only put clothes on her that I know she liked (my brother dressed her in a pair of jeans he bought her often...she HATES jeans and always has). I never brushed the curls out of her perm, but instead found an old large tooth comb that I had had for my spiral perms long ago. I made sure her hair was curly...and just the way she always has worn it. By the end of our time together, she claimed it as her own, so I wrote her name on it in Sharpie and put it in her bag. On St. Patty's day I loaned her a green sweater and when she declared that she loved it and thought it was such a pretty color, I told her it looked much better on her and that she could have it (it really did look better on her!) By writing all this, I am not trying to pat myself on the back. Believe me, I lost my cool and bit my tongue more than once. When she would tell my kids to "shut up", I would hold back my anger and chalk it up to an elderly person not being used to the way kids behave. My kids are loud...as is (or was) my mother...dinner time is never boring. /grin/

I believe that I could have been a much better caregiver at times, but I also believe that her time here was good for her. I will even venture to say that she misses us too. When hubby and I went to see her last Sunday (and bring her her favorite carrot cake cupcakes w/maple cream cheese frosting), she had been sad. My stepfather said our visit made her happy again and that he wanted me to come all the time. (Believe me...that's a pretty big compliment.) She asked about "her kids" and told me again how number 6 got mad at her when she would get after her. I smiled as usual and told her that number 6 was the child that she had always wished on me. My mini me!

In the end, doing the right thing is not always the easiest, but I will NEVER be sorry for doing it. I will NEVER be sorry for taking my mother with all her flaws and having the roles reversed for awhile. I will NEVER be sorry for setting an example for my children on how we are supposed to treat our parents despite what kinds of old hurts haunt us from our past. I did the right thing and I'd like to think that I grew as a person along the way.

Nothing is more fabulous....

....than using your clothes line after a long, snowy winter!

The next two days are supposed to be sunny AND in the 60's. The snow has finally disappeared enough for me to get out of the cellar and to my clothes line. I AM SO STOKED!!!!! I have not hung anything outside since December. I have missed hanging especially my sheets and tablecloths.

Goodbye dryer and hanging laundry inside on the rolling wardrobe. You've served me well the last few months, but there is a new way to dry in town (finally). Thank you spring!

Walk a mile

I'm so irritated and frankly, hurt.

This journey I'm on right now is all consuming. You all know that because it seems to be the only thing I can write about these days. I have baggage that weighs it down even more which I am trying to shuffle through...trying to heal, forgive - whatever needs to be done.

To be perfectly honest, I am resentful some days. I resent that I am shouldering something else in my already full up life, but what gets me the most is the fact that except for three family members (and one happens to be my brother who is also walking this walk with me), NO ONE really gives a shit. I have high school girl friends and internet friends who have taken the time to text me, call me, write to me - reminding me to keep my chin up - to keep on keeping on. WTF? Doesn't that seem a little backwards to you?

I had two nights in a row where I actually drank wine. TWO. And you would have thought the fucking earth stood still. I don't have a problem with alcohol, I promise. I am stressed beyond measure and yes, I am tense and prone to harsh words when this happens. Of course, you might know that if you actually gave a flying fuck and actually called/texted/checked in more than once.

I would like to just say this: Here are my shoes. Walk a mile in them and then get back to me. Until you become a caregiver for your adult parent who doesn't even know how to fucking wipe themselves anymore while trying to be a wife to a husband who has been strung out from snow storm after snow storm and a mother to 6 kids, don't judge. Don't even look at me funny because you know, I am apt to go off.