The Filling in the Sandwich or Work/Life Balance?
Well, it has definitely been a while. That so-called "great job" turned out to be somebody else's great job. Cest la vie. Right now, I spend my time taking care of the kids and trying to take care of my mother at arm's length. My mother is a bottomless pit of need. Trying to keep up with my mother's problems--mostly self-inflicted--is like the little Dutch boy who ran around sticking his finger in the dike to stop the flood. Since last January when I moved her around the corner I've dealt with the following: deafness (I paid $3000 for state-of-the-art hearing aids which she promptly lost.), depression (ongoing), incontinence (ongoing), eviction (her apartment looks like a dorm room inhabited by three 19 year old boys. It also stinks of urine and not surprisingly, the people who run her federally-subsidized complex are always threatening to throw her out. She finds this amusing. I don't.), a car accident, a car repair shakedown (I prevented that but ended up paying $500 in cash for a new alternator and a battery), senility, inability to manage her money, lost cell phones and a zillion more "issues". Just about everything is a problem.
An example. I took her to Target because she needed toothpaste. Not just any toothpaste--her "special" toothpaste called Mentadent. While she was looking for it she mumbled something using a hammer to get the toothpaste out of the container. I said "oh, you mean when it's almost out?" Nope. Turns out she doesn't have the mechanical dexterity to make the fancy Mentadent container give up the toothpaste. She's been using the claw side of a hammer to pry it open and get at the toothpaste. She sees nothing strange in this however. A mental image of Yogi Bear trying to pry open a bee hive immediately pops into my head. I suggest we get a utilitarian brand that she can ause without a hammer. "Oh, all right" she says sighing heavily. She puts the Mentadent container back on the shelf with great reluctance and moves slowly, slowly, slowly toward the check-out line. We have just spent 15 minutes choosing toothpaste and my head is about to pop off.
I know that many other people my age are dealing with this same situation. We all seem to say the same things "she/he complains constantly", "she/he says I try to run his life", "nothing I do or say is right". It's like having a wrinkled teen. And it's only going to get worse. That's the main thing--she's only going to get worse.
An example. I took her to Target because she needed toothpaste. Not just any toothpaste--her "special" toothpaste called Mentadent. While she was looking for it she mumbled something using a hammer to get the toothpaste out of the container. I said "oh, you mean when it's almost out?" Nope. Turns out she doesn't have the mechanical dexterity to make the fancy Mentadent container give up the toothpaste. She's been using the claw side of a hammer to pry it open and get at the toothpaste. She sees nothing strange in this however. A mental image of Yogi Bear trying to pry open a bee hive immediately pops into my head. I suggest we get a utilitarian brand that she can ause without a hammer. "Oh, all right" she says sighing heavily. She puts the Mentadent container back on the shelf with great reluctance and moves slowly, slowly, slowly toward the check-out line. We have just spent 15 minutes choosing toothpaste and my head is about to pop off.
I know that many other people my age are dealing with this same situation. We all seem to say the same things "she/he complains constantly", "she/he says I try to run his life", "nothing I do or say is right". It's like having a wrinkled teen. And it's only going to get worse. That's the main thing--she's only going to get worse.
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