AMBUSHED!!!!

Yep. I was ambushed. First of all, Fed Ex came to deliver a package, but it wasn't for Mom, yeah, it was diapers but not adult diapers.

Sorry guys, those go next door to the lady with the baby. Wait, guys???

Fed Ex comes in pairs? OH! They don't have Fed Ex cloths, Sumptin's wrong here. I tried to close the door on them but my door was rotten, wouldn't close or latch. Non-Fed Ex number one jammed his arm in the door, I fought him and won, or so I thought..... I twisted the dead bolt but the door was dead so it didn't work.

Crap, what to do now? Oh, I know, keep your head here... Phone is in my pocket, back door is this way, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!

Let em have the house, I'm outta here.

As I headed out the back door I glanced back to see the two Non-Fed Ex guys busting through the front door.

Naked. Not even good looking. Damn my luck...... Guys are so weird, they can undress so slowly but can't seem to jump on any other given duties any faster than the ever ready bunny deplete of battery power.....

Crap. I'm gonna die today. I ran, they chased, caught up with me and...

And......... I woke up. I spent the next several hours sneaking around the house, ambushing dark, empty spaces and double, triple and a gazillion times checking the locks, dead bolts, and no, the door wasn't rotted. Lock it, yank on it, inspect it, ok, it's good.

So I wasn't really ambushed, or was I? My killer-protecto-cat followed me around the house, he's my man-cat sans all the parts.... He'll watch out for me, right?

Ok. Watch the cat, if something weird is happening around here, wouldn't he sense it? Of course he would, he's an Animal. 6th sense and all that... Cat's not freaking out, so all must be well.

If I had a dollar for every time I checked the house that night Obama's stimulus package would be paid for many times over.

Now it's getting really late and I've worn myself down enough that I think I can go back to sleep. Ok, one more check for the road.... And I was ambushed AGAIN!!!!

Seems Protecto-Cat was having a good time watching me pass back and forth and decided to have a little fun with the end of my bathrobe as it swished past him in the living room.

As I passed the coffee table he charged out and wrapped his killer-kitty paws around my legs. "Ha, GOTTCH!". My heart skipped enough beats to have me declared legally dead. I grabbed him up, tossed him into the bedroom and locked the bedroom door.

What a night!

I spent the next several hours

Clones

Cloning is a process whereby a scientist in a deep underground laboratory somewhere in a vast desert far away captures cells and grows them into things like exact replicas or maybe cows with extra legs.

So, the theory is that if I cloned myself then the world would be subjected to another me for another X amount of years after I'm gone or maybe (hee hee hee hee) two or three of me while me, the original, is still walking around. Ohh, that would be a pretty powerful tool in a relationship, "Honey, if you don't do what I want I'm gonna pull three more of me to gang up on you". "Yes dear" would be the standard answer.

Oh Yeahhhhh!!

I've been told I'm a clone, a clone of my own mother. AHHHHGGGGHHHHH! NOOOOOOO! Say it isn't so!!!!! Oh, wait, she's intelligent, good looking, talented...... ok, NO!!!! Yeah, NO!!!!!

It could be true, I've heard her voice and words come out of my own mouth, directed towards my children when she was miles and MILES away. Now I know she's a Mother, has eyes in the back of her head, and I truly believe she can see through walls and across the yard..... Maybe it was her, and I only thought it was me speaking. OH NO! Maybe she's clairvoyant and, being a Mother, has special powers and she just blips into my body now and then.....

Oh, this is getting complicated... But it gets worse.

There seems to be three of us, all clones of each other. Me, Mom, and my sister. Aw geez, that could be good, it could be a disaster!

We were all three rolling/walking down the hallway at the nursing home, following our Mother as she was going to the shower. Just before my sister and I turned off to go home we heard her say to the nurse, "Do you have my shirt?" "Yes" came the answer from the poor nurse. "Do you have my pants?" "Yes", and "Do you have my Undies?" "Yes."

My sister and I looked at each other, eyebrows slightly raised and moved on to the car. On the way home my sister drove and I said "Make a left here" and "Slow down for this turn" and it hit us. There are three of us walking around in this world!

Next day we went to visit her again and our fears were confirmed. Mom said, "Don't forget to turn your headlights on when you drive home".

Clones. Some mad scientist in a deep underground laboratory in a desert far, far away met with success. He made three of us.

I wonder if his name was Dr. Fletcher?

Sunshine and Lollipops?

Well today marks one week since the big, tough, scary decision to move Mom into a nursing home. Friday was a dark day indeed, Mom hated my ever living guts. Not such a surprise there, who wants to go to a nursing home? Not such a surprise there too as this isn't the first time she's hated my ever living guts.

My sister and I gave ourselves the key to the flood gates, allowing rivers of sadness, sorrow and a little bit of doubt to run it's course and trickle away into clearer thinking.

The second day of nursing nursing home life for Mom, we went to see her with GREAT trepidation, thinking she would not be any where near adjusted or even over being mad about the whole thing..(who could blame her?) and what we found was, was..... Hmmmmm.

I looked around her new room, up and down the halls, Hmmmm, everything looked normal.. people walking around, 'Good morning' and 'how are yew' and smiles coming at me... Hmmm. I looked back at Mom, 'The people are really nice here' and 'this is a nice place' sounds were coming out of her lips, through a bright face and pleasant smiling lips.... I began to wonder just what Fletcher had done this time as I was sure I was on the wrong planet.

What happened to yesterday when everyone was mad at everyone and the world seemed upside down? Ohhhhhhh, THAT'S it,

Yesterday the world was turned upside down and I fell off! I must be on some other planet right now, these people are not earthlings and the smiling woman in front of me saying pleasant things could NOT be my real mother!

Now the question was, do I want to go back to planet Earth where everything was so dark yesterday or do I want to stay on this planet where everything is sunshine and lollipops.

I like sunshine and lollipops.

I guess the sunshine and lollipops gods decided to let me stay because I've been here a week and the lady that looks like my Mother is still smiling.

Fletcher, if you tried to throw a wrench in my works, it didn't work! I think your wrench fixed a few leaking pipes, I can say that because none of us, Mom, myself or my sister have any more water problems on our faces.

I'm sure the nursing home thing isn't what we all would have chosen if we had our druthers, but I'm also sure all involved have figured out how to make the best of it. (Well, most of us but that's another story)

Sunshine and Lollipops. Thanks, Fletch.

Fletcher

I know of an old woman who had a hubby named Fletcher. Now this old woman was a typical old woman, bossy, grouchy and never, NEVER at fault for anything. Even if she really, really had nothing to do with what ever went wrong at the moment, is STILL wasn't her fault.

It's all Fletcher's doins' was her mantra. Hey, I like that, I think I'll create my own Fletcher....

Since I'm in overdrive learning just whose fault life is anyway, and if I can't figure it out I'll pass it on to Fletcher. He won't care, 1) He's dead and 2) he's used to carrying the worlds burdens on his shoulders.

So if this post doesn't make any sense... I'm covered.

Thanks, Fletcher!

I've learned that, Fletcher or no, someone else's problems are not my problem. Guilt can't be piled on me by anyone but me, myself and I.
Oops, that sounds like all my other personalities are coming forth. HEY, this is MY post. It's all Fletcher's doins'.

I've learned that not everyone that acts stupid or irritating is doing it on purpose. It just could be they can't help themselves. ( Did you ever know anyone who got up in the morning and reflected on who they could irritate today?) Fletcher, this is all your doins'.

I'm starting to figure out that people that behave in hurtful ways are probably hurting a TON more than they could hurt me. (Unless I let them hurt me).

That's called having empathy. Not that I want to, I want to choke the stuffins out of mean people, but that Fletcher, well, I think Fletcher is a bit of a trouble maker! What's that sound? Oh, I bet that's the far-away-other-side snicker of ol' Fletcher. After all, it's his doins'.

I've learned that I can only fix what's broken in me, I can't save the world and the people in it that are broken. No matter who they are.

I've learned that I can build a bridge to repair a rift, and maybe I can even extend my side a little more than half way, but I can't build the whole bridge. After all, bridges have two sides, mine and Fletchers. Oh, maybe not ol' Fletch every time, but if I can't get the other side of the bridge to meet my end, well, it's Fletcher's doins'.

Ol' Fletch must be well padded, because since I let him be my burden-carrier, my head doesn't hurt so much. I simply pound my head on him instead of some hard surface. Walls of concrete are the worst place... don't try that at home, I'm the professional here....

Hey, Thanks, Fletch, you're a life saver!

Oh where, oh where did my little Mom go?

My neighbor came over today to visit, well, really she came over because she figured if she didn't she would hear in the news about a woman who's head exploded and was splattered all over the room.

My head didn't explode but I'm still out of breath from running from one end of the house to the other, trying to do the wash (pee on bedding doesn't set well with me) and trying to keep Mom from falling backwards.

I would find her in a corner, her feet still trying to walk while she bumped, bumped, bumped against the wall. Her feeble voice calling out for me.... I'd get her back in her chair and tell her to SIT, STAY!! (Bad dog!) Then run back to the wash room before my wringer washer overflowed. Been there and done that, flooded the whole durned wash room last Saturday... Not doing it again if I can help it....

Run to the wash room, turn the water off, check on Mom, Oh, what corner is she in now? Not in her chair, not on the couch, not on the potty, Oh, THIS corner, how did she get there? "This way, Mom, now SIT, STAY! Ring the bell if you want to go somewhere." "I can't find the bell." Stupid answer, YES YOU CAN! screams the pre-teen in her mind. "Stay on this couch!"

All day I played hide and seek with her. In desperation I called Hospice. They sent the nurse, under the guise of checking her blood pressure but really to give me an hour to go stomp around my wonderful 11 acres. So Stomp is just what I did and it felt good! I came back in after one glorious hour and let the poor trapped nurse go. She said that Mom tried to kick her out. "You don't need to stay, my daughter can feed the horses without you here," and "My daughter is just crying wolf."

Bless the nurse, she told Mom she couldn't go until she got her paper work caught up. Another day bites the dust. Wonder what thrills tomorrow will bring?

Life saving book

Well, I actually found time to read a WHOLE book, yeah! The whole durn thing! Ok, so I didn't include all the details.. I stayed up until midnight speed reading it because I borrowed it and had to return it the next day.

But that book was good enough that it's on my list of things to buy, after I get done with the three other books I bought per the author's recommendation.

The book is called 'Elder Rage, or Take my Father, Please'. And, boy oh boy, her father NEEDED to be taken, maybe to the highest cliff.... but I digress. Her story (true) is written from the anguish she felt that she could only cope with by dropping buckets of humor into it.

I don't feel so bad about being humorous about my Mother now. (Yesterday I was looking for a cliff, too).

Like me, Jacqueline (the author) dropped her career to take care of her parents. And I thought I was the only nut on earth.... Her father was manipulative, (like Mom), angry, (like Mom), had mental issues, (like Mom) and she, like me, went into her endeavour empty handed.

What to do with the money, durable power of attorney, medical questions, arguing with doctors that only saw the sweet side of her father, (hey, that sounds familiar!), where to find help, support, information, and, of course, the problem of changing gears from busy and productive to diapers and decible 16 TV's.

Her book is a MUST READ for anyone that has parents, healthy or not, it's a good look at what could be in the future and a great way to prepare for the multi-layered tangle of all the above mentioned and more.

I have ordered three more books that I found in her extensive list of recommendations. Some more midnight speed read nights on the way!!

Tomorrow

Tomorrow, being a new day, brings me to the task of deciding a few things; 1) Am I going to repeat the same-ol same-ol tomorrow? And 2) If not, what am I going to do different?

My idea is to start a schedule, well, that's not really a tomorrow idea, that was a today idea. It failed miserably today, but, alas, failure is an invitation to try again and do it better.

Failure is the door that opens to better ideas, pull-your-bootstraps-up and try again. Try again? Well, sort of, remember that the definition on insanity is trying the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. So try again means take a step back, think about what worked today and what didn't.

Sort of like posting all the day's events on a little piece of paper, shuffling through them and throwing out what ever didn't work or doesn't fit.

Today I tried to serve only decalf coffee and not serve any anxiety meds. I wanted to see if I could keep things calm without much intervention.

Ehhhhh! Wrong! About 2 this afternoon I found my self running around like a chicken with my head cut off, which I KNOW I promised myself I would STOP doing. I tried shutting the den door with a 'Bang' to let her know I mean what I say when I say 'I'm busy'.

I've decided that she is WAY more persistant and manipulative than I could have ever imagined. Today, in the course of ignoring her, she burned the end of her finger trying to light her own cig. Now she's pretty good at lighting up alone, she's been doing it blind for 15 years. I noticed she only burns the finger when I'm busy. AND she only tells me how much it hurts after I've gotten tough on her. AND her leg only hurts when she wants attention.

Yesterday I went for a one hour walk with my neighbor. I used to walk with her everyday, but the winter cold has kept us both in. We offered to plop Mom in the wheel chair and take her along. Mom declined.

When I got back from my walk, guess who WASN'T on the couch? Yep, you got it. She was coming out of the master bathroom. Not her bathroom, the bathroom in my bedroom. "Hey, Mom, are you lost?" I asked. Seems she made a left instead of a right trying to go outside.

GO OUTSIDE?????? With me gone. Oh, hail mary and ghost get me, she's trying to wonder outside onto a porch that's 4, that's FOUR feet off the ground. Alone. Making lefts instead of rights.

Guess what we argued about yestereday? Getting her a visiting care-taker so I can leave the house and not worry. She said no, I said yes.

Guess who won? Yep, me and the cat. We won and I'm getting her a sitter so I can go for a FREAKIN' walk 1/2 mile up the road and back.

To get back on track, tomorrow I'm going to schedule meals again and this time I'm going to get tough about closing the kitchen when the day is done. She ate like a fat man in a hot-dog eating contest today. I don't believe she was hungry, I believe she was trying to keep me focused on her instead of napping, talking on the phone, spending down time on the computer. "Did you feed the horses yet?" she asked. "I'm on the way out now," is my answer. "Get me a cup of coffee" was her answer.

Out came the pre-teen, mumbling under my breath. I gave her a thermos of coffee today and she didn't use it because 'the cat stole the lid'. Well, then, why didn't the coffee spill out????

Tomorrow is another day.... and I'm gonna make it a good one for me. You just watch!