Mom & Me Two Archive

...and Day One of the resumption of Me Doing My Mother's Life has been interesting and strange. The last two days were very relaxed for us. Yesterday I even held off the sorting I'm doing on my project and we spent the day with Spiderman, which we both enjoyed. She hasn't taken naps for the last two days, but she did today. Today began late for her, as usual, but ended later than has been her habit, recently: 1100 - 2300; not too bad.

    We didn't do exercises or directed movement, didn't go anyplace, but she ate three regularly scheduled meals.
    She spent most of today in Iowa. I don't know why. She began this morning as we were bathing her, asking me when was the last time I'd been to Martelle, a small town in Iowa in which she taught for a couple of years. I assured her that I hadn't.
    She looked at me askance. "But, it's only a ways up the road."
    I laughed gently. "Mom, we're in Arizona. It's quite a bit further up the road."
    She looked at me as though I was out of my mind.
    So, I decided, okay, we'll spend the day in Iowa.
    She spent a good hour or so this afternoon studying our latest road atlas map of Iowa, mentioning towns, talking about relatives who'd lived in these towns, asking me if I knew what had happened to this person or that person. In about half the cases, from having paid attention to her in past decades when she talked about her past life, I did.
    Something peculiar happened just before she went to bed, a repeat, in fact, of what happened last night. She told me that if I wanted to I was welcome to sleep here either in her bedroom or the back bedroom, as though I hadn't been sleeping either in her room or "the back bedroom" for the last 10, almost 11 years, now. Last night I brushed by her mention of it. Tonight, though, I decided to correct her and remind her that I've been living with her for a long time, now.
    "Oh, good," she said. "I was planning on asking you if you wanted to stay."
    "Of course I'll stay, Mom. I won't leave you ever again."
    "Well, that settles it, then. I don't like living alone."
    We've had these occasional conversations before and I've never thought much about them. Tonight it occurred to me that, maybe, during My Month of Me, although I was actually in the house and around her more than usual, the direct attention I paid to her (versus the indirect attention, which did not falter) was limited by about half its usual amount and maybe this made her feel several times throughout the last month that I hadn't been here. Wow. I didn't think my psuedo vacation was affecting her much. Sobered me a bit in regard to doing this again. I probably will, but not for quite a while. The good news is that today she must have felt that I was directly here all day long. I guess she must have missed me during My Month of Me.
    I'm having a little trouble switching from riding off the saddle to riding on, again. Perhaps I would feel differently if I'd had an actual vacation, away from here and from Mom. I didn't "return refreshed" as vacationed people are supposed to return. Rather, I felt heavy and perturbed that I was again giving up time and attention to my mother to which I'd become accustomed to using for me.
    I did, though, slip back into our normal routine without a hitch, except for forgetting to take her blood pressure twice today. I am going to resume 3 times a day stats again for awhile (which reminds me, stats are back, starting December 1st) to see if the movement of which I've been allowing her to slack lowers her blood pressure again and we're able to go back to her reduced dosage of lisinopril. For more information on this see today's stats at Mom & Me Tests and Meds.
    I feel a little as though I'm voluntarily going back into The Twilight Zone.