Tuesday, January 31, 2012

By the Way

I am back to blogging.  And drinking.  Red wine.  Lots of Spanish reds.  And no, every post will not be about my mother and her dementia even though that is the single most significant thing that is happening in my life right now.

I might blog about the Baby Niece.  Or about politics (because I got pretty fired up about the Planned Parenthood vs. Komen Foundation spat today).  Or about how I have no money and no desire to do much of anything except drink red wine every night.

I might blog about this baby that the husband and I are trying to have.  Yes, I might be amenable to getting knocked up because for some reason, I think a baby is exactly what I need to feel better about my sorry life right now.  And yes, if I get preggers, I will knock off the red wine!

I can blog about all sorts of whackitude because in spite of my terminal depression, I still have a sense of humor.  Wait, all of that stuff goes on the BBW blog...so I guess that means I am back to blogging there too (I am, starting tomorrow).

Ciao!

Thieves in the Temple

My mother insists that people are stealing her things even though she is constantly moving things around.  She has lost her drivers' license, credit cards, hats, scarves, pajamas, purses and many other items of clothing because 'strangers' are roaming through HER house.

There are no strangers in the house.  Nothing has been stolen.  Items that were lost are miraculously found days, weeks and even months later.  But none of that matters because in her mind, she is not losing anything.

Especially not her mind.

When she lost her ids back in Novemer, I spent several hours looking through her drawers, which are now all filled with useless, rubber-banded together pay stubs, letters and other assorted crap dating back to 2008.  I had determined that it was time to call the DMV the very day that she claims her items were returned.  My useless brother claims that she found everything because he chose not to affix her patch that morning.

No, she is not losing her mind at all.  I am.

More Drama from My Mama

I ruined my mother's birthday dinner by refusing to attend after an especially ridiculous episode wherein she walked up to the bank...again.

My mother and I spoke yesterday morning around 10 or 11am, can't remember, but it doesn't matter because at no point during that conversation did she mention that she needed to go to the bank.  Once a week now, she goes to the bank to withdraw money that she doesn't spend because I spend my husband's money and my aunt spends her unemployment whenever we go out.  When I spoke to my mother, I told her to expect me that afternoon since I was at home with the plumber.  She told me that she and my aunt had plans to go out, so I called my aunt to tell her that the entire family had dinner plans that night and to invite her to tag along.

Fast forward two hours after I left messages for my aunt, my mother and my father.  I got a call from my aunt informing me that my mother was not at home and that she had been outside waiting for a while and had to use the bathroom.  I stopped what I was doing, made a quick pit stop, grabbed my keys and headed over to my parents' house.  I suspected that my mother had walked up to the bank again, but I drove like a bat out of hell anyway because of this lingering fear that one day, she might have another destination in mind...

I get a call when I am about to reach my exit from my aunt, and of course the connection is bad.  I presume that all is well but since I am now on their side of town, I have to go by the house.  I call my aunt again and she tells me that my mother is at home, so when I arrive at the house, I let myself in and am greeted by my aunt and my mother's angry face from the kitchen.

I guess she thought I was over-reacting because she was just fine and in the kitchen cooking dinner even though we just spoke about the dinner plans for the evening a few hours earlier.  Actually, she does not say anything about the fact that I am out of breath, stinky from not having taken a shower yet, but she does snap that she knows where her cell phone is when I ask.  My aunt plays interference and it occurs to me that I am far from calm even though I am trying to maintain my cool.  After a few more snarky responses to my questions, I decide to leave (although I did make it clear that I was leaving to avoid having an aneurysm).  Once I am back in my car, I call the husband and declare that I will not attend my mother's birthday dinner that evening.

And that is how I ruined her birthday.