Deb's Travel Chronicles
Upgrade to first class. It's a puddle jumper so don't get excited. It's just enough room to slide my bag under the seat without being a contortionist. My travel partner (TP henceforth) and I experience this trip together. We bonded, really.
In line to board:
TP: go right ahead, it's not leaving until we are all on anyway (chivalry)
Me: thanks so much, you're right (dazzling smile - me not him)
We get on the plane to realize we are seated next to one another.
Me: looks like your stuck with me. Be careful who you're nice to.
TP: chuckling - no problem. Do you mind if I slide my bag under the seat too. Some people get territorial and don't want their bag next to someone else's under the seat.
Me: um, I'm not some people. Of course! I won't badger you or call you names, I won't even give you dirty looks.
TP: terrific (dazzling smile - him not me)
Enter stage left entitled traveler 1 & 2. ET1 and ET2 - you know how this works.
ET2 getting on the plane. Doesn't travel often CLEARLY. Can't fathom no space over head in 1st class.
ET1: here we will put your stuff over here. They've taken all our space.
TP and I exchange glances
TP: entitled
Me: it's sad they have to put up with the little people this trip
Fast forward to getting ready to close the door to the plane
ET1: are you nervous ET2?
ET2: yes
ET1: want a Xanax. No I'm serious I have some (loudly-not her inside or in public voice)
ET2: ok
ET1: I probably should have given it to you 20 minutes ago.
TP and I exchange glances.
Me to TP: Xanax is a whisper word, seriously
TP: (laughing) not for her it isn't!
ET1: do you need a snack? A snack will help
ET2: ok what do you have
ET1: cheese-it's and jelly beans
Me to TP: and Xanax
TP: cheese-it's, jelly beans and Xanax. Trail mix
Me: clearly.
Now we've landed and are about to deplane. Everyone standing, shuffling, getting bags...
ET1: but seriously have you ever had Ambien? It's a miracle!
Me from my seat, TP standing already -
Me: what is going on right now?!
TP: Jesus mother of god
Me: maybe it's us, maybe we shouldn't travel together any more.
TP: oh, yeah. That's probably it
Me and TP, we get each other. I'll never see him again and don't know his name but I'm glad someone else heard it. Just so I know I heard it.
Monday, February 26, 2018
Marriage Chronicles - February 2016
Has anyone else ever had the convo with the man of the house that went something like this...
BIG: I'm gonna throw in a wash, do you have anything you need washed?
ME: (looking into my laundry basket as I am packing my suitcase for my business trip) just one or two things, don't worry about it.
BIG: you sure? You don't have anything to wash, not one thing?
ME: I said very little and no don't worry about it. No big deal.
BIG: you have stuff in there just give it to me.
ME: JFC stop asking me! I'm trying to get stuff together. Walk. Away!
BIG: you know you don't have to be shitty
ME: Again, you ask if you can do something for me, I say no thanks in a decidedly NOT shitty way. Then you proceed to ask me the same question 3 more times and when I finally blow my stack it's me being shitting. Don't ask me that f'ing question again. Go. Do. Your. Wash.
BIG: ok, ok. Fine I won't try to be nice anymore. Do your own laundry.
Ok, so now we are back to where I wanted to be when we started 5 minutes ago. I finish packing, he starts his wash. Why did I have to go through Scotland to get there. Omg, I'm so the guy. I need a nap.
BIG: I'm gonna throw in a wash, do you have anything you need washed?
ME: (looking into my laundry basket as I am packing my suitcase for my business trip) just one or two things, don't worry about it.
BIG: you sure? You don't have anything to wash, not one thing?
ME: I said very little and no don't worry about it. No big deal.
BIG: you have stuff in there just give it to me.
ME: JFC stop asking me! I'm trying to get stuff together. Walk. Away!
BIG: you know you don't have to be shitty
ME: Again, you ask if you can do something for me, I say no thanks in a decidedly NOT shitty way. Then you proceed to ask me the same question 3 more times and when I finally blow my stack it's me being shitting. Don't ask me that f'ing question again. Go. Do. Your. Wash.
BIG: ok, ok. Fine I won't try to be nice anymore. Do your own laundry.
Ok, so now we are back to where I wanted to be when we started 5 minutes ago. I finish packing, he starts his wash. Why did I have to go through Scotland to get there. Omg, I'm so the guy. I need a nap.
MIL Chronicles - November 2017
Vacation Sable Style
1. Plan vacation in April to happen at thanksgiving.
2. Spend all of summer and fall with at least 2 Sables ill (one self-induced, one because of the self induced and one from yelling at self-induced)
3. Finally convince self-induced that she needs someone in daily to help take care of her (one of my family members who is skilled, kind, classically and emotionally intelligent)
4. Wednesday night before thanksgiving day departure take self-induced to the hospital with CHF exacerbation
**at this point self-induced (MIL if you hadn’t figured it out) is safer in the hospital, in CCU and taking lots of fluid off**
5. Decision made to GO ANYWAY (MIL spends Thursday, Friday and Saturday in the hospital - which was perfect. I plan to ask the hospital if we can just check her in every time we need a break)
6. Watch The Boys get their asses handed to them
7. Chill and have fun anyway
8. Come home and pick up self-induced who is now on O2 likely permanently but pretending it’s until she gets better
9. Big going from relaxed to controlled rage in 30 minutes flat
Moral to the story - go anyway. Second lesson never forget how hard it is to take care of someone and when this is over listen carefully to people who are doing the same. Figure out a way to help, if only for 5 minutes. 5 minutes of no one needing you can be enough to get you through the next thing.
Now the fun highlight. I got upgraded to a Dodge Charger and spent 3 day’s with my foot in the carburetor. There is precious little as sexy as the growl of a an American muscle car.
1. Plan vacation in April to happen at thanksgiving.
2. Spend all of summer and fall with at least 2 Sables ill (one self-induced, one because of the self induced and one from yelling at self-induced)
3. Finally convince self-induced that she needs someone in daily to help take care of her (one of my family members who is skilled, kind, classically and emotionally intelligent)
4. Wednesday night before thanksgiving day departure take self-induced to the hospital with CHF exacerbation
**at this point self-induced (MIL if you hadn’t figured it out) is safer in the hospital, in CCU and taking lots of fluid off**
5. Decision made to GO ANYWAY (MIL spends Thursday, Friday and Saturday in the hospital - which was perfect. I plan to ask the hospital if we can just check her in every time we need a break)
6. Watch The Boys get their asses handed to them
7. Chill and have fun anyway
8. Come home and pick up self-induced who is now on O2 likely permanently but pretending it’s until she gets better
9. Big going from relaxed to controlled rage in 30 minutes flat
Moral to the story - go anyway. Second lesson never forget how hard it is to take care of someone and when this is over listen carefully to people who are doing the same. Figure out a way to help, if only for 5 minutes. 5 minutes of no one needing you can be enough to get you through the next thing.
Now the fun highlight. I got upgraded to a Dodge Charger and spent 3 day’s with my foot in the carburetor. There is precious little as sexy as the growl of a an American muscle car.
MIL Chronicles - December 2015
MIL Chronicles
Big: my mother is driving me nuts, btw
Me: I know
Big: I went over there when I got home and she said (conversation to follow)
MIL: what time are we eating tomorrow?
Big: Deb said around 5 or so
MIL: oh ok, I'll ask Debbie
To me Big: why does she talk to me. Why the F did she ask me the question if you're the only one who can answer the question. She's crazy as shit.
I waited until I hung up to laugh.
Big: my mother is driving me nuts, btw
Me: I know
Big: I went over there when I got home and she said (conversation to follow)
MIL: what time are we eating tomorrow?
Big: Deb said around 5 or so
MIL: oh ok, I'll ask Debbie
To me Big: why does she talk to me. Why the F did she ask me the question if you're the only one who can answer the question. She's crazy as shit.
I waited until I hung up to laugh.
MIL Chronicles - September 2015
MIL Chronicles
Did you do my laundry?
No, I've been doing mine and your Mom's laundry. Why didn't you do her laundry while I was gone? She was almost out of undies.
Ah Jeeezus! I can't touch that shit!
So that's a no. Bahahahahaha!!!
Did you do my laundry?
No, I've been doing mine and your Mom's laundry. Why didn't you do her laundry while I was gone? She was almost out of undies.
Ah Jeeezus! I can't touch that shit!
So that's a no. Bahahahahaha!!!
MIL Chronicles- December 2015
MIL Chronicles
Never mind the part about a-fib, the semi-emergent cardiology appointment with one day turn around (tomorrow) and the purple legs. The following are facts in evidence:
1. The doctor was so nice, you know she's tall and thin and very friendly.
2. Her heart is just in a little funny rhythm and the doctor called and got her an appointment for tomorrow. (This is because MIL is likable and so sweet that the doctor made the appointment for her. The bounds of self-importance know no limits)
3. The high dose metoprolol has her in a CONTROLLED a-fib about 120bpm
Other then that, Mrs. Lincoln...how was the play?
Icing moment:
Doc: how many children do you have?
MIL: 2
Doc: how many grandchildren?
MIL: after some thinking - ONE
Doc: how old?
MIL: Deb will he be 8?
ME: no, Emmitt will be 7 in March. It's her grand-dog. Emmitt is the dog.
Doc: mouth agape, 2 second pause, hysterics.
PS-Bring a book tomorrow, they said. They worked her in so it'll be a long wait. Bring. A. Book. They. Said.
Never mind the part about a-fib, the semi-emergent cardiology appointment with one day turn around (tomorrow) and the purple legs. The following are facts in evidence:
1. The doctor was so nice, you know she's tall and thin and very friendly.
2. Her heart is just in a little funny rhythm and the doctor called and got her an appointment for tomorrow. (This is because MIL is likable and so sweet that the doctor made the appointment for her. The bounds of self-importance know no limits)
3. The high dose metoprolol has her in a CONTROLLED a-fib about 120bpm
Other then that, Mrs. Lincoln...how was the play?
Icing moment:
Doc: how many children do you have?
MIL: 2
Doc: how many grandchildren?
MIL: after some thinking - ONE
Doc: how old?
MIL: Deb will he be 8?
ME: no, Emmitt will be 7 in March. It's her grand-dog. Emmitt is the dog.
Doc: mouth agape, 2 second pause, hysterics.
PS-Bring a book tomorrow, they said. They worked her in so it'll be a long wait. Bring. A. Book. They. Said.
MIL Chronicles - October 2015
MIL Chronicles. 25 days to go
MIL: hey Deb, can you get me some of that spray stuff for stains. I have some panties I need to treat (no doubt from Jared)
Me: no I only have the stick kind. Tell you what. I'll put it under the sink in your bathroom and you can use it whenever you need to. That way his majesty won't know. (And I can shitcan it when she goes across the way)
MIL: oh thank you. That's good.
I come up and do the thing I promised.
Big: what are you doing?
Me: don't ask
Big: oh god, what?
Me: DONT ask
Big: tell me
Me: you can't not ask can you?
Big: no
I tell him.
Big: oh Jesus that's disgusting. (Upturned lip, lurching stomach)
Me: I'm not getting any tonight am I?
Big: OMG I can't. I'm gonna be sick.
😂😂😂😂 (I was never gonna get any anyway).
MIL: hey Deb, can you get me some of that spray stuff for stains. I have some panties I need to treat (no doubt from Jared)
Me: no I only have the stick kind. Tell you what. I'll put it under the sink in your bathroom and you can use it whenever you need to. That way his majesty won't know. (And I can shitcan it when she goes across the way)
MIL: oh thank you. That's good.
I come up and do the thing I promised.
Big: what are you doing?
Me: don't ask
Big: oh god, what?
Me: DONT ask
Big: tell me
Me: you can't not ask can you?
Big: no
I tell him.
Big: oh Jesus that's disgusting. (Upturned lip, lurching stomach)
Me: I'm not getting any tonight am I?
Big: OMG I can't. I'm gonna be sick.
😂😂😂😂 (I was never gonna get any anyway).
MIL Chronicles - February 2016
MIL Chronicles: Last nights conversation at home.
BIG: so my mother tells me that she wiped Emmitt's nose today because it was wet.
ME: staring, waiting...
BIG: she says that he sees that her nose runs all the time and so his runs too
ME: wait, his runs because hers runs? Like sympathy nose running? From the dog?
BIG: oh yeah. I guess she never heard about a dog having a dry warm nose not being a good thing. I tried to explain that his nose is supposed to be wet. She says he's so good about her wiping his nose because he sees how she does it.
ME: sometimes I think you just make shit up.
BIG: oh no. I don't. She's a LUNA-TICK
(Spacing there represents the division and emphasis on the now two parts of that word)
So the world should know Emmitt has had his nose wiped. Likely multiple times. You won't get a cold from his paws because he didn't wash after wiping his nose. MIL did it for him, see? So carry on with the petting of the dog. It's all taken care of.
BIG: so my mother tells me that she wiped Emmitt's nose today because it was wet.
ME: staring, waiting...
BIG: she says that he sees that her nose runs all the time and so his runs too
ME: wait, his runs because hers runs? Like sympathy nose running? From the dog?
BIG: oh yeah. I guess she never heard about a dog having a dry warm nose not being a good thing. I tried to explain that his nose is supposed to be wet. She says he's so good about her wiping his nose because he sees how she does it.
ME: sometimes I think you just make shit up.
BIG: oh no. I don't. She's a LUNA-TICK
(Spacing there represents the division and emphasis on the now two parts of that word)
So the world should know Emmitt has had his nose wiped. Likely multiple times. You won't get a cold from his paws because he didn't wash after wiping his nose. MIL did it for him, see? So carry on with the petting of the dog. It's all taken care of.
MIL Chronicles - July 2016
MIL Chronicles:
I'm off this week so my good deed for the week was taking her to BJs to shop. She gets out of the house rarely and it will shock you to know I am more patient than her son. So, she leans on a cart and off she goes. She needs:
Fish oil - for her heart
CoQ-10 - for her heart
Joint fuel (glucosamine/chondroitin) for her bone on bone knees that don't hurt
Additionally she gets:
Chocolate berry clusters (dark chocolate only because that's good for your heart)
Chocolate covered cranberries
Madeleine cookies
5lb container of strawberry twizlers (because the one she got a month ago has been long since gone)
BBQ pulled pork and hamburger buns (I think the real food was just for show)
Various and sundry paper products
Her son comes home and I tell him we went to BJs.
Big: why didn't you or she tell me you were going?
Me: because you would have said no, don't go, I'll do it this weekend, do the things you said you would while you're off (I am doing those btw) and don't worry about mother. Then you would have bitched about having to go this weekend.
Big: don't pretend you know me
Me: right
Big: what did she get?
Me: what do you think?
Big: candy and chocolate - but only dark because it's good for her heart - and the paper products she needed
Me: correct
We get in the car and he calls her says I heard you went to BJs and didn't tell me and you got all kinds of candy and chocolate. Yeah, she says. We get to her house because he has to check out how I put everything away (it's a thing he has to do). We walk in and (laughingly)...
MIL: (to me) you squealer!
Me: what?
MIL: you told him what I got
Me: no he told ME what you got! You think you're not predictable!
MIL: Steven have one of those chocolate covered cranberries. Their delicious. Debbie had some too
Me: hey! Now whose the squealer!
Big: Debbie had a few to a hand full. You're going to power down the whole bag.
MIL: it's dark chocolate, it's...
Big: I know, I know good for your heart. Know what else is good for your heart. Pulling your ass off the couch and walking around! That's what you really needed at BJs!
MIL: I did walk! Debbie didn't bring the wheelchair. I leaned on the cart.
Big: good. Oh and by the way, my favorite thing is how you don't think Debbie and I talk. She's my wife! Did you and Dad talk about everything? Of course you did. Squealer. Shit. AND what are you wearing. Jesus Christ mother you have clothes!
MIL: it's a sports dress!
Big: your sport is eating! You should wear pants!
Then he'd had enough and we left. I've talked to her about wearing a bra. I swear I have. He asks me everytime. I swear I have.
It's Abbott and Costello over here. Seriously, I need a go pro.
I'm off this week so my good deed for the week was taking her to BJs to shop. She gets out of the house rarely and it will shock you to know I am more patient than her son. So, she leans on a cart and off she goes. She needs:
Fish oil - for her heart
CoQ-10 - for her heart
Joint fuel (glucosamine/chondroitin) for her bone on bone knees that don't hurt
Additionally she gets:
Chocolate berry clusters (dark chocolate only because that's good for your heart)
Chocolate covered cranberries
Madeleine cookies
5lb container of strawberry twizlers (because the one she got a month ago has been long since gone)
BBQ pulled pork and hamburger buns (I think the real food was just for show)
Various and sundry paper products
Her son comes home and I tell him we went to BJs.
Big: why didn't you or she tell me you were going?
Me: because you would have said no, don't go, I'll do it this weekend, do the things you said you would while you're off (I am doing those btw) and don't worry about mother. Then you would have bitched about having to go this weekend.
Big: don't pretend you know me
Me: right
Big: what did she get?
Me: what do you think?
Big: candy and chocolate - but only dark because it's good for her heart - and the paper products she needed
Me: correct
We get in the car and he calls her says I heard you went to BJs and didn't tell me and you got all kinds of candy and chocolate. Yeah, she says. We get to her house because he has to check out how I put everything away (it's a thing he has to do). We walk in and (laughingly)...
MIL: (to me) you squealer!
Me: what?
MIL: you told him what I got
Me: no he told ME what you got! You think you're not predictable!
MIL: Steven have one of those chocolate covered cranberries. Their delicious. Debbie had some too
Me: hey! Now whose the squealer!
Big: Debbie had a few to a hand full. You're going to power down the whole bag.
MIL: it's dark chocolate, it's...
Big: I know, I know good for your heart. Know what else is good for your heart. Pulling your ass off the couch and walking around! That's what you really needed at BJs!
MIL: I did walk! Debbie didn't bring the wheelchair. I leaned on the cart.
Big: good. Oh and by the way, my favorite thing is how you don't think Debbie and I talk. She's my wife! Did you and Dad talk about everything? Of course you did. Squealer. Shit. AND what are you wearing. Jesus Christ mother you have clothes!
MIL: it's a sports dress!
Big: your sport is eating! You should wear pants!
Then he'd had enough and we left. I've talked to her about wearing a bra. I swear I have. He asks me everytime. I swear I have.
It's Abbott and Costello over here. Seriously, I need a go pro.
MIL Chronicles - August 2017
MIL Chronicles
Prelude: our story begins with a belly flop fall onto the floor whilst trying to carry a bowl of cherries, cup of stems and pits and MIL trying to maneuver her walker at the same time. This was the second of 2 falls in as many weeks. The first I changed the garage code, put a lock box in the garage with a key and registered all of it with the county lest they would have to break down the door if we had to call 911 remotely. Remember: I changed the code....
MIL comes home from rehab on Sunday afternoon. She's scared and tired and knows that Monday will bring the first of 3 visits to begin her home health rehab. Monday I am home for the intake appt. Tuesday I'm on the road while PT and OT come out for their first visits. In an effort not to have to open the door (unless you're the neighbor kid for her to threaten) she hatches a plan to have the therapy company come in through the garage using the garage codes. Tuesday afternoon brings...
*Deb's phone rings*. I can't answer because the branch I am in has zero cell reception. I call her back from the land line. Now she sees a Massachusetts number and answers and promptly hangs up on me. She figures it's no one she knows! I call back. She answers. Big calls me a few minutes later with his side of the story. You have to know his part before her part is funny.
Big: did my mother call you?
Me: yes. She did about the garage door code
Big: yeah she wants to give the code to all of America and I told her no! Well first she calls me and asks what the code is. I tell her 1234. She says no it's not. So I say, mother if you knew the code why would you call me and ask what it was? She tells me it used to be something with 3's and 1's. I said yes, it used to be 3131 (not really, this is for the story. Stick with me, it gets better...). And after your first fall Debbie changed it (I may or may not have mentioned that I HATE being called Debbie ... there are about 4 people on the planet who can do it and it doesn't bug me. None of them has the same last name as me) and the lock box to register with the county just in case. Furthermore you are not giving the code to everyone in America! Then she tells me she'll just call you and I say oh no you won't, she's working you leave her alone. **irony, he called me to tell me this ridiculous story**
MIL: Oh hi Deb. I just talked to Steven. I was going to give the garage code to the girls from the company. You know the company thats coming to help me exercise? Anyway I told Steven I was going to and he got all upset and told me no so I just hung up and called you. I don't need his shit, you know what I mean?
Me: yes, yes I do
MIL: what is the garage code?
Me: 1234 (clearly not that, code changed to protect the crazy)
MIL: what is it?
Me: 1234
MIL: ok thank you. Steven didn't know it.
In case you missed it. 1234 is exactly what he told her. He's told me before she calls me and doesn't listen to him and that it's my fault because I talk back to him in front of her. That brought the death stare and he wisely changed the subject. Now the transformation is complete. She'll hang up on him right quick if he doesn't give her the right answer and call me. Because I talk back to him and don't take shit.
So I think all 3 of us have the whole round robin thing down to a science.
I need a GoPro. I'd be wealthy beyond my wildest dreams.
Prelude: our story begins with a belly flop fall onto the floor whilst trying to carry a bowl of cherries, cup of stems and pits and MIL trying to maneuver her walker at the same time. This was the second of 2 falls in as many weeks. The first I changed the garage code, put a lock box in the garage with a key and registered all of it with the county lest they would have to break down the door if we had to call 911 remotely. Remember: I changed the code....
MIL comes home from rehab on Sunday afternoon. She's scared and tired and knows that Monday will bring the first of 3 visits to begin her home health rehab. Monday I am home for the intake appt. Tuesday I'm on the road while PT and OT come out for their first visits. In an effort not to have to open the door (unless you're the neighbor kid for her to threaten) she hatches a plan to have the therapy company come in through the garage using the garage codes. Tuesday afternoon brings...
*Deb's phone rings*. I can't answer because the branch I am in has zero cell reception. I call her back from the land line. Now she sees a Massachusetts number and answers and promptly hangs up on me. She figures it's no one she knows! I call back. She answers. Big calls me a few minutes later with his side of the story. You have to know his part before her part is funny.
Big: did my mother call you?
Me: yes. She did about the garage door code
Big: yeah she wants to give the code to all of America and I told her no! Well first she calls me and asks what the code is. I tell her 1234. She says no it's not. So I say, mother if you knew the code why would you call me and ask what it was? She tells me it used to be something with 3's and 1's. I said yes, it used to be 3131 (not really, this is for the story. Stick with me, it gets better...). And after your first fall Debbie changed it (I may or may not have mentioned that I HATE being called Debbie ... there are about 4 people on the planet who can do it and it doesn't bug me. None of them has the same last name as me) and the lock box to register with the county just in case. Furthermore you are not giving the code to everyone in America! Then she tells me she'll just call you and I say oh no you won't, she's working you leave her alone. **irony, he called me to tell me this ridiculous story**
MIL: Oh hi Deb. I just talked to Steven. I was going to give the garage code to the girls from the company. You know the company thats coming to help me exercise? Anyway I told Steven I was going to and he got all upset and told me no so I just hung up and called you. I don't need his shit, you know what I mean?
Me: yes, yes I do
MIL: what is the garage code?
Me: 1234 (clearly not that, code changed to protect the crazy)
MIL: what is it?
Me: 1234
MIL: ok thank you. Steven didn't know it.
In case you missed it. 1234 is exactly what he told her. He's told me before she calls me and doesn't listen to him and that it's my fault because I talk back to him in front of her. That brought the death stare and he wisely changed the subject. Now the transformation is complete. She'll hang up on him right quick if he doesn't give her the right answer and call me. Because I talk back to him and don't take shit.
So I think all 3 of us have the whole round robin thing down to a science.
I need a GoPro. I'd be wealthy beyond my wildest dreams.
MIL Chronicles - October 2015
MIL Chronicles
This happened a couple weeks ago when I was tired. This isn't funny. It speaks to the crazy that is in every corner of my home right now, my corner included. Ok from where you are reading it might be funny. Only because you will see the controlled burn behind my eyes and picture the expression on my face that has never been something someone would refer to as a poker face.
I came home on a night when every day was long, work was crazy, I had a beautiful wedding to plan that weekend and every day in traffic was minimum of 2 hours each direction. If you are gonna to talk to me before my tea in the morning or after a long day before I've had the first drop of water I was able to find in the last 8 hours, make it pleasant. This isn't a request, it's a directive and it is for your safety. Truly. And so the story begins. We find our heroine (that's me) entering the kitchen after a long day.
MIL: oh Deb, you forgot to turn off the light to the basement this morning. (She says from her perch on the couch that she doesn't leave unless to eat).
Big: yeah, I guess you forgot.
Me: yeah I guess with walking the dog, carrying my bag, my tea, my breakfast and my shoes I just didn't have enough hands.
MIL: I turned it off. Otherwise it would have burned all day long. What a waste.
Big: yeah, Deb doesn't sweat that shit. Fuck it, let it burn she says (this said half jokingly, half sarcastically)
Me: know what? Neither of you pay the electric bill. Not either one. I do. Know what else, that was by design, it's called 'shut up money'. This is the part where both of you shut up. The $0.27 extra I have to pay this month for electricity will come out of my pay, no one else's.
Fast forward to this morning while I'm juggling all the above in the basement. Comes from above...don't forget the light...
Me: through gritted teeth, my checks flushed with immediate irritation.... I won't.
Talked to Big on the way in. He gets home at 6 tonight. I don't know when I'll be home for a couple of large things that are due. I told him. I left the kitchen light on. You make sure that isn't the first thing said to me tonight, if at all. No bullshit. It's a safety issue, I'm not playing. Her safety, yours too. I know where you both sleep.
This happened a couple weeks ago when I was tired. This isn't funny. It speaks to the crazy that is in every corner of my home right now, my corner included. Ok from where you are reading it might be funny. Only because you will see the controlled burn behind my eyes and picture the expression on my face that has never been something someone would refer to as a poker face.
I came home on a night when every day was long, work was crazy, I had a beautiful wedding to plan that weekend and every day in traffic was minimum of 2 hours each direction. If you are gonna to talk to me before my tea in the morning or after a long day before I've had the first drop of water I was able to find in the last 8 hours, make it pleasant. This isn't a request, it's a directive and it is for your safety. Truly. And so the story begins. We find our heroine (that's me) entering the kitchen after a long day.
MIL: oh Deb, you forgot to turn off the light to the basement this morning. (She says from her perch on the couch that she doesn't leave unless to eat).
Big: yeah, I guess you forgot.
Me: yeah I guess with walking the dog, carrying my bag, my tea, my breakfast and my shoes I just didn't have enough hands.
MIL: I turned it off. Otherwise it would have burned all day long. What a waste.
Big: yeah, Deb doesn't sweat that shit. Fuck it, let it burn she says (this said half jokingly, half sarcastically)
Me: know what? Neither of you pay the electric bill. Not either one. I do. Know what else, that was by design, it's called 'shut up money'. This is the part where both of you shut up. The $0.27 extra I have to pay this month for electricity will come out of my pay, no one else's.
Fast forward to this morning while I'm juggling all the above in the basement. Comes from above...don't forget the light...
Me: through gritted teeth, my checks flushed with immediate irritation.... I won't.
Talked to Big on the way in. He gets home at 6 tonight. I don't know when I'll be home for a couple of large things that are due. I told him. I left the kitchen light on. You make sure that isn't the first thing said to me tonight, if at all. No bullshit. It's a safety issue, I'm not playing. Her safety, yours too. I know where you both sleep.
MIL Chronicles - December 2017
MIL Chronicles
Ok. Here it is. Big and I go over to get her grocery list. Before this, at about 8:30am while I am still in my pjs, MIL calls me to tell me her grocery list is downstairs. She wants to tell me a couple other things to get. She wants me to remember them. I can’t remember my own name half the time. She has no intention of going downstairs. So I go over, get the grocery list and take it up to her. Remember this. It is important to reference later.
Big and I go over. She’s perched in her rollator. We begin to speak to her about her care and how things are going. I know her care is awesome. I also know her caretaker hasn’t drown her in the glass of milk she rudely asks for and that her caretaker is in Saint status already.
Big: mother we need to talk to you about your care.
MIL: uh huh
Big: what are you wanting to do? Do you like Olivia?
MIL: yeah! I like her a lot
Big: and you’re starting to feel better with the hospice taking care of you, right?
MIL: oh yeah, I feel good. I can do stuff on my own again (remember the grocery list)
Big: well I can tell you’re feeling better because you get nastier and nastier every day.
MIL: I do not
Me: you have gotten shitty lately. Why? What’s the matter?
More back and forth that doesn’t matter and is all bullshit out of her mouth, flying back and forth.
MIL: I never thought I’d have two people who just fight against me all the time.
Me: I’m sorry, are you speaking about us?
MIL: yeah
Me: oh, we who run over here in a snap? We who make sure you are safe all the time?
MIL: (temper tantrum, scooting toward the chairlift) I don’t need this shit. You know what, don’t even go grocery shopping for me. I’ll find something in the refrigerator.
Big: oh for sure. You don’t even rinse dishes anymore and you’re gonna find something to eat. Stop it.
Me: know what you need is to act like someone is doing things for you for the right reasons. We have never done anything but take care of you, make sure you get what you need, work to make sure you are safe.
I’ve gotten louder at this point. This is where she goes to open her mouth to shush me because the neighbors might hear go off the rails.
Me: and do not even say be quiet because the neighbors will hear. I don’t give a fuck what they hear! You need to figure some shit out and quick.
Then I left. Because it was the best for her safety. I. Left. I told Big I’m sorry I lost my cool but I just hit my limit. He’s says he’s speechless and can’t even make sense of how she can be that nasty to people. I said yes please remember that when you want to have a reasonable conversation with her again. He says you’re right. It’s a waste of time.
Correct. And blood pressure. And self restraint for me not to start swinging.
We come back from grocery shopping and put everything away. I empty the dishwasher while Big goes upstairs. I can hear him whisper yelling at her. We leave.
Me: what did you tell her? I know you were whisper yelling at her.
Big: I told her she needs to do a little soul searching because you aren’t her daughter and you treat her better every day than she deserves or her own daughter would do.
Me: thank you. That’s a true story.
By 5:30 she called me to ask me to come over so she could apologize for being nasty. Ok. So we are fine. Until tomorrow.
Ok. Here it is. Big and I go over to get her grocery list. Before this, at about 8:30am while I am still in my pjs, MIL calls me to tell me her grocery list is downstairs. She wants to tell me a couple other things to get. She wants me to remember them. I can’t remember my own name half the time. She has no intention of going downstairs. So I go over, get the grocery list and take it up to her. Remember this. It is important to reference later.
Big and I go over. She’s perched in her rollator. We begin to speak to her about her care and how things are going. I know her care is awesome. I also know her caretaker hasn’t drown her in the glass of milk she rudely asks for and that her caretaker is in Saint status already.
Big: mother we need to talk to you about your care.
MIL: uh huh
Big: what are you wanting to do? Do you like Olivia?
MIL: yeah! I like her a lot
Big: and you’re starting to feel better with the hospice taking care of you, right?
MIL: oh yeah, I feel good. I can do stuff on my own again (remember the grocery list)
Big: well I can tell you’re feeling better because you get nastier and nastier every day.
MIL: I do not
Me: you have gotten shitty lately. Why? What’s the matter?
More back and forth that doesn’t matter and is all bullshit out of her mouth, flying back and forth.
MIL: I never thought I’d have two people who just fight against me all the time.
Me: I’m sorry, are you speaking about us?
MIL: yeah
Me: oh, we who run over here in a snap? We who make sure you are safe all the time?
MIL: (temper tantrum, scooting toward the chairlift) I don’t need this shit. You know what, don’t even go grocery shopping for me. I’ll find something in the refrigerator.
Big: oh for sure. You don’t even rinse dishes anymore and you’re gonna find something to eat. Stop it.
Me: know what you need is to act like someone is doing things for you for the right reasons. We have never done anything but take care of you, make sure you get what you need, work to make sure you are safe.
I’ve gotten louder at this point. This is where she goes to open her mouth to shush me because the neighbors might hear go off the rails.
Me: and do not even say be quiet because the neighbors will hear. I don’t give a fuck what they hear! You need to figure some shit out and quick.
Then I left. Because it was the best for her safety. I. Left. I told Big I’m sorry I lost my cool but I just hit my limit. He’s says he’s speechless and can’t even make sense of how she can be that nasty to people. I said yes please remember that when you want to have a reasonable conversation with her again. He says you’re right. It’s a waste of time.
Correct. And blood pressure. And self restraint for me not to start swinging.
We come back from grocery shopping and put everything away. I empty the dishwasher while Big goes upstairs. I can hear him whisper yelling at her. We leave.
Me: what did you tell her? I know you were whisper yelling at her.
Big: I told her she needs to do a little soul searching because you aren’t her daughter and you treat her better every day than she deserves or her own daughter would do.
Me: thank you. That’s a true story.
By 5:30 she called me to ask me to come over so she could apologize for being nasty. Ok. So we are fine. Until tomorrow.
MIL Chronicles - November 2017
MIL Chronicles
So now I have a spy and what I have long suspected is confirmed!
1. I shouldn’t travel for work - not because she cares about me as she states - because I’m not home to cook for Big and do his laundry.
*** I’ve never done Big’s laundry. He’s persnickety and only wants himself to do it***
***with regard to cooking, even when I wasn’t traveling I didn’t cook during the week, as I had a job then too***
2. I can go shopping for her groceries this evening because I’ve been home all day.
*** I work from home on Fridays. A lot with no fluff time***
So if she could pay me my hourly rate AND help me with daughter’s college tuition I would stay home. I’ve mentioned to her and she hasn’t volunteered. And so it’s off to work I go, and happily!
That tarot reader better have been right about how much longer this will go on. For real.
So now I have a spy and what I have long suspected is confirmed!
1. I shouldn’t travel for work - not because she cares about me as she states - because I’m not home to cook for Big and do his laundry.
*** I’ve never done Big’s laundry. He’s persnickety and only wants himself to do it***
***with regard to cooking, even when I wasn’t traveling I didn’t cook during the week, as I had a job then too***
2. I can go shopping for her groceries this evening because I’ve been home all day.
*** I work from home on Fridays. A lot with no fluff time***
So if she could pay me my hourly rate AND help me with daughter’s college tuition I would stay home. I’ve mentioned to her and she hasn’t volunteered. And so it’s off to work I go, and happily!
That tarot reader better have been right about how much longer this will go on. For real.
MIL Chronicles- January 2018
MIL Chronicles.
Before we start I think it’s important for you to know that MIL has ZERO dementia. Mentally ill, likely but no dementia, no Alzheimer’s, no alcoholic brain (tea teetotaler) and has had not strokes, TIAs ... nothing. This is her character. So all you bleeding hearts out there know what time it is.
When last we checked in with our villain, you’ll remember that it was a meeting to have her stop shenanigans of being nasty. I mean, temporarily. She can’t stop because it courses through her veins. Anyway last week her caregiver Olivia texted me on Tuesday or Wednesday and said I’m sorry for the short notice but I’m done Friday. I can’t take her anymore. I get that. Totally. Thank goodness she was able to hold on that long.
Another anti-nasty meeting was had Friday night. The kind where Big is speaking quietly and I am seething quietly. She paints a broad brush of people not doing for her, not taking care of her, blah blah blah.
We didn’t tell her that Olivia quit because MIL is a monster to have to be around for that long. It was tempered with other truths. The conversation went all over and off the rails only mildly. Also, note to all the ships at sea, if I am silent, you should run.
Net effect is MIL is cheap. Sees no value in having someone there. She can do it herself. Oh. Really? Ok so the new deal is she will get a shower by the aide from hospice 3x a week. Other than that she will take care of things herself. Yesterday was day one.
As I am getting off the plane, our day begins.
Ringtone for MIL sounds. It’s from my favorite movie. I’m gonna have to change it because it’s making me angry when I hear it. The movie doesn’t deserve that.
MIL: hey Deb. The green light and the yellow light are on.
I’m gonna make her work for EVERY. DAMNED. THING. from here on out. I know what she means.
Me: what lights?
MIL: in the machine
Me: what machine?
MIL: (becoming irritated) the oxygen
Me: ok well I looked at it yesterday and the number for the company isn’t on it. You’ll need to call your nurse.
Her nurse is a lovely young woman and kick ass hospice nurse whom MIL thinks hung the moon but who I suspect is starting to get the real flavor for MIL
MIL: oh. Ok.
Me: do you have Carrie’s number?
MIL: no
Me: got a pen?
MIL: *silence for a couple seconds. This is the part where I am supposed to do all the leg work*
Me: you there?
MIL: oh yeah let me get a pen
Cue sounds of rummaging, groaning and general sounds of displeasure at having to move and potentially GET THE FUCK OUT OF THAT CHAIR.
MIL: ok
Me: 123456789
MIL: let me say it back. 123456789
Me: right. Call Carrie and let her know what’s going on. She will call the company and they will come and look at it. They will fix it if possible or just replace it. Now, the likelihood that they will get there while Carrie is there is slim so you are going to have to go down and let them in.
MIL: oh, ok
I fill Big in and forbid him to do anything about it, guide her, call a damned soul. No worries there. He’s right on the same page. Further I tell him since she’s gonna have to go to the door I hope she puts in pants. That won’t happen. Hope in one hand...
Big: oh no, I’m not gonna do shit. She’s got her ass on her shoulders about being able to do everything. Let her.
Later Big checks on her by way of camera. She is legit at the dining table ranting and yelling and slamming shit in a tirade. Wisely, she calls no one in this tirade. She must have an ounce of self preservation.
I talk to Big before he goes to bed.
Me: so I know your mother had some sidewise comment tonight. Go ahead. Hit me.
Big: well, she’s beefed with you because you didn’t call her and tell her when the company was going to come look at the oxygen and she had to go down and let them in. She didn’t know what time so she had to rush.
Me: you know damned good and well I told her she would have to go let them in.
Big: oh I sure do. Absolutely. But you were supposed to call her and tell her what time.
Me: I had NOTHING to do with the process except to give her Carrie’s number.
Big: I know. But like you always tell me, you can’t apply logic to the illogical.
Me: no, but you can fantasize about violence.
That was just MONDAY. What does Tuesday hold...
Before we start I think it’s important for you to know that MIL has ZERO dementia. Mentally ill, likely but no dementia, no Alzheimer’s, no alcoholic brain (tea teetotaler) and has had not strokes, TIAs ... nothing. This is her character. So all you bleeding hearts out there know what time it is.
When last we checked in with our villain, you’ll remember that it was a meeting to have her stop shenanigans of being nasty. I mean, temporarily. She can’t stop because it courses through her veins. Anyway last week her caregiver Olivia texted me on Tuesday or Wednesday and said I’m sorry for the short notice but I’m done Friday. I can’t take her anymore. I get that. Totally. Thank goodness she was able to hold on that long.
Another anti-nasty meeting was had Friday night. The kind where Big is speaking quietly and I am seething quietly. She paints a broad brush of people not doing for her, not taking care of her, blah blah blah.
We didn’t tell her that Olivia quit because MIL is a monster to have to be around for that long. It was tempered with other truths. The conversation went all over and off the rails only mildly. Also, note to all the ships at sea, if I am silent, you should run.
Net effect is MIL is cheap. Sees no value in having someone there. She can do it herself. Oh. Really? Ok so the new deal is she will get a shower by the aide from hospice 3x a week. Other than that she will take care of things herself. Yesterday was day one.
As I am getting off the plane, our day begins.
Ringtone for MIL sounds. It’s from my favorite movie. I’m gonna have to change it because it’s making me angry when I hear it. The movie doesn’t deserve that.
MIL: hey Deb. The green light and the yellow light are on.
I’m gonna make her work for EVERY. DAMNED. THING. from here on out. I know what she means.
Me: what lights?
MIL: in the machine
Me: what machine?
MIL: (becoming irritated) the oxygen
Me: ok well I looked at it yesterday and the number for the company isn’t on it. You’ll need to call your nurse.
Her nurse is a lovely young woman and kick ass hospice nurse whom MIL thinks hung the moon but who I suspect is starting to get the real flavor for MIL
MIL: oh. Ok.
Me: do you have Carrie’s number?
MIL: no
Me: got a pen?
MIL: *silence for a couple seconds. This is the part where I am supposed to do all the leg work*
Me: you there?
MIL: oh yeah let me get a pen
Cue sounds of rummaging, groaning and general sounds of displeasure at having to move and potentially GET THE FUCK OUT OF THAT CHAIR.
MIL: ok
Me: 123456789
MIL: let me say it back. 123456789
Me: right. Call Carrie and let her know what’s going on. She will call the company and they will come and look at it. They will fix it if possible or just replace it. Now, the likelihood that they will get there while Carrie is there is slim so you are going to have to go down and let them in.
MIL: oh, ok
I fill Big in and forbid him to do anything about it, guide her, call a damned soul. No worries there. He’s right on the same page. Further I tell him since she’s gonna have to go to the door I hope she puts in pants. That won’t happen. Hope in one hand...
Big: oh no, I’m not gonna do shit. She’s got her ass on her shoulders about being able to do everything. Let her.
Later Big checks on her by way of camera. She is legit at the dining table ranting and yelling and slamming shit in a tirade. Wisely, she calls no one in this tirade. She must have an ounce of self preservation.
I talk to Big before he goes to bed.
Me: so I know your mother had some sidewise comment tonight. Go ahead. Hit me.
Big: well, she’s beefed with you because you didn’t call her and tell her when the company was going to come look at the oxygen and she had to go down and let them in. She didn’t know what time so she had to rush.
Me: you know damned good and well I told her she would have to go let them in.
Big: oh I sure do. Absolutely. But you were supposed to call her and tell her what time.
Me: I had NOTHING to do with the process except to give her Carrie’s number.
Big: I know. But like you always tell me, you can’t apply logic to the illogical.
Me: no, but you can fantasize about violence.
That was just MONDAY. What does Tuesday hold...
MIL Chronicles- October 2015
MIL Chronicles
Big Man: picks up her stuff before she can even sit it down.
MIL: Steven would you sit down! You've got ants in your pants!
Big Man: someone has to clean up after you mother.
MIL: (turning her attention to me) he's a pain in the ass!
Me: you raised him. It's your fault.
Big Man: picks up her stuff before she can even sit it down.
MIL: Steven would you sit down! You've got ants in your pants!
Big Man: someone has to clean up after you mother.
MIL: (turning her attention to me) he's a pain in the ass!
Me: you raised him. It's your fault.
MIL Chronicles- October 2015
So many MIL Chronicles to catch up on, so little time. Here is a short one.
Me: I'm gonna go up, change the bed, take a long scalding shower and then come back down
MIL: you're gonna change the bed now?! Why would you change it this late.
Me: it's only 8:30pm. I'll be done by 8:45pm.
MIL: yeah but it's almost time for bed. Get in it dirty and just change it tomorrow.
Ok, first. Who knows me? Do I EVER get in the bed dirty? NEGATIVE. Second, it's quiet in my bedroom and she can't come up the steps without me. The end.
Me: I'm gonna go up, change the bed, take a long scalding shower and then come back down
MIL: you're gonna change the bed now?! Why would you change it this late.
Me: it's only 8:30pm. I'll be done by 8:45pm.
MIL: yeah but it's almost time for bed. Get in it dirty and just change it tomorrow.
Ok, first. Who knows me? Do I EVER get in the bed dirty? NEGATIVE. Second, it's quiet in my bedroom and she can't come up the steps without me. The end.
MIL Chronicles- December 2015
So some of you have watched the MIL Chronicles with amusement. As well you should.
An odd phenomenon is taking place. Any information related to MIL is like the circle story told in grade school. The resemblance to what was really said by the time it reaches the next person is almost non-existence.
Big's new super cool to immediately RED HOT button is the phrase .... "Debbie said..." (Those of you who know Big know that super cool for him is really only 2 degrees from RED HOT, it's the spirit of the thing that's important)
Yep. That's what she said. Only I (who am NOT named "Debbie") said nothing of the kind. We have developed a new style of communication. Big is learning. He'll call me and say, here is what Mother said, what is the real story. That's progress. Real progress.
PS there are approximately 3 people in my life that have called me Debbie. 2 high school friends (Sarah Claassen who isn't on any social media, and still does. Sheryl Seligson who still does) and Big who used to. He refrains now. Those are the only 3 grandfathered in and from whom I don't hear the word with a lighted match on my soul!
That's all. Just that.
An odd phenomenon is taking place. Any information related to MIL is like the circle story told in grade school. The resemblance to what was really said by the time it reaches the next person is almost non-existence.
Big's new super cool to immediately RED HOT button is the phrase .... "Debbie said..." (Those of you who know Big know that super cool for him is really only 2 degrees from RED HOT, it's the spirit of the thing that's important)
Yep. That's what she said. Only I (who am NOT named "Debbie") said nothing of the kind. We have developed a new style of communication. Big is learning. He'll call me and say, here is what Mother said, what is the real story. That's progress. Real progress.
PS there are approximately 3 people in my life that have called me Debbie. 2 high school friends (Sarah Claassen who isn't on any social media, and still does. Sheryl Seligson who still does) and Big who used to. He refrains now. Those are the only 3 grandfathered in and from whom I don't hear the word with a lighted match on my soul!
That's all. Just that.
MIL Chronicles - December 2016
MIL Chronicles
Me: I'm here to get your grocery list. Is it done?
MIL: uh huh (she's eating)
I review the list item by item (it's a Sable thing) and check the cupboards to make sure these items don't already exist
MIL: where did you get that coat!?
Me: it's a sweatshirt type thing that is made by a tree company. It's for being out in the woods for hours and hours. It lets nothing through.
MIL: was it Steven's
Me: (this thing goes nearly to my knees and the sleeves nearly to my ankles) yes this is the one he ordered first that is too small for him. He can't get in and out of it alone. He has a bigger one.
MIL: well the next time you have something like that give it to me.
Me: you couldn't get in and out of it. It's too heavy and your "rotor" cuff wouldn't allow you to throw your arms up
**speaking her language is easier than speaking English and having her not get it**
Me: plus we just got you that pretty purple cape.
MIL: what am I gonna do it there is snow up to here (gesturing to her chest) with that cape?!
**you must know that at this point she is completely offended that I have suggested she be out in 5 feet of snow in a CAPE! The nerve!**
Me: like you are ever going to be out in that much snow! You won't leave the house when it rains!
MIL: (*sputtering*) you don't know I could surprise you!
Me: you haven't yet
MIL: DEBRA!
Me: you only call me that when your upset that I'm right! (Now she's laughing)
MIL: I do not!
Me: oh yes you do! You and your son only call me by my whole name when I'm right because it causes you both physical pain!
At that point the 18 degree weather sounds awesome so it's off to the grocery store I go.
The end.
The perfectly lovely cape:
Me: I'm here to get your grocery list. Is it done?
MIL: uh huh (she's eating)
I review the list item by item (it's a Sable thing) and check the cupboards to make sure these items don't already exist
MIL: where did you get that coat!?
Me: it's a sweatshirt type thing that is made by a tree company. It's for being out in the woods for hours and hours. It lets nothing through.
MIL: was it Steven's
Me: (this thing goes nearly to my knees and the sleeves nearly to my ankles) yes this is the one he ordered first that is too small for him. He can't get in and out of it alone. He has a bigger one.
MIL: well the next time you have something like that give it to me.
Me: you couldn't get in and out of it. It's too heavy and your "rotor" cuff wouldn't allow you to throw your arms up
**speaking her language is easier than speaking English and having her not get it**
Me: plus we just got you that pretty purple cape.
MIL: what am I gonna do it there is snow up to here (gesturing to her chest) with that cape?!
**you must know that at this point she is completely offended that I have suggested she be out in 5 feet of snow in a CAPE! The nerve!**
Me: like you are ever going to be out in that much snow! You won't leave the house when it rains!
MIL: (*sputtering*) you don't know I could surprise you!
Me: you haven't yet
MIL: DEBRA!
Me: you only call me that when your upset that I'm right! (Now she's laughing)
MIL: I do not!
Me: oh yes you do! You and your son only call me by my whole name when I'm right because it causes you both physical pain!
At that point the 18 degree weather sounds awesome so it's off to the grocery store I go.
The end.
The perfectly lovely cape:
MIL Chronicles - October 2015
MIL Chronicles.
Background: many errands to complete things for MILs house. Last stop Jared jewelry because a lovely little bird told me they could work on my watch and MIL needed a new battery for hers. Big and I went into Jared alone. ALONE. On purpose. He told her he would lock the car, she said ok I'll stay here. She'd had enough walking, you see. It comes to pass that my watch can't be fixed and my husband is tired of me being cheap and buys me a new watch. It's gonna take a minute so he says he will go out and tell his mother what's up. While I was obliviously handling the watch purchase and fitting, here is what happened.
Big headed for the car. Before he could get to the door the alarm in the car started going off. He goes to the car to see what's going on. His mother is struggling to get out of the car. He hits the button and unlocks everything and opens her door. He is nearly knocked dead by the fumes!
MIL: I made a stinker and I need to go to the bathroom.
Big through watering eyes: what were you doing and why did the alarm go off.
MIL: I couldn't figure out how to unlock the door to get out.
Big takes her inside, deposits her at the bathroom, goes back outside and rolls every window down.
She's owned this car for 14 years. She doesn't know about the "lock/unlock" button.
💩😂💩😂💩😂
It's funnier because I had no part in it. I was busy getting a lovely watch.
Background: many errands to complete things for MILs house. Last stop Jared jewelry because a lovely little bird told me they could work on my watch and MIL needed a new battery for hers. Big and I went into Jared alone. ALONE. On purpose. He told her he would lock the car, she said ok I'll stay here. She'd had enough walking, you see. It comes to pass that my watch can't be fixed and my husband is tired of me being cheap and buys me a new watch. It's gonna take a minute so he says he will go out and tell his mother what's up. While I was obliviously handling the watch purchase and fitting, here is what happened.
Big headed for the car. Before he could get to the door the alarm in the car started going off. He goes to the car to see what's going on. His mother is struggling to get out of the car. He hits the button and unlocks everything and opens her door. He is nearly knocked dead by the fumes!
MIL: I made a stinker and I need to go to the bathroom.
Big through watering eyes: what were you doing and why did the alarm go off.
MIL: I couldn't figure out how to unlock the door to get out.
Big takes her inside, deposits her at the bathroom, goes back outside and rolls every window down.
She's owned this car for 14 years. She doesn't know about the "lock/unlock" button.
💩😂💩😂💩😂
It's funnier because I had no part in it. I was busy getting a lovely watch.
MIL Chronicles - October 2016
MIL Chronicles from last night.
MIL: oh Deb I think the steps for the doggie next to my chair have stained my chair.
ME: oh really? I'll check tomorrow in the sunlight.
Yes the dog has steps. Yes he has two sets so different rooms are covered. He's little. Stop. Then Big comes home. MIL repeats her stain lament.
BIG: where? Let me look. (He looks. No stains, anyway). Uh, Mother there is nothin on this chair except fuzz from the steps.
MIL: no it's a stain
BIG: you need new glasses. You can't hear for shit or you're ignoring me and now you are seeing things.
MIL: we will look tomorrow in the sun. It's there.
BIG: Mother, I'm never wrong.
Today, in the sun, no stain. She's in shock. Shocked I tell you.
MIL: oh Deb I think the steps for the doggie next to my chair have stained my chair.
ME: oh really? I'll check tomorrow in the sunlight.
Yes the dog has steps. Yes he has two sets so different rooms are covered. He's little. Stop. Then Big comes home. MIL repeats her stain lament.
BIG: where? Let me look. (He looks. No stains, anyway). Uh, Mother there is nothin on this chair except fuzz from the steps.
MIL: no it's a stain
BIG: you need new glasses. You can't hear for shit or you're ignoring me and now you are seeing things.
MIL: we will look tomorrow in the sun. It's there.
BIG: Mother, I'm never wrong.
Today, in the sun, no stain. She's in shock. Shocked I tell you.
MIL Chronicles - September 2016
MIL Chronicles - I've just gotten home off the plane.
MIL: did you hear about the train crash?
Me: yeah isn't that terrible!
MIL: ever since that Obama got in office it's been one thing after another
Me: Jesus Christ, this is going to be deeper than I expect you to understand but for one thing he isn't the devil. For another thing Ronald Reagan deregulated every damned thing in the 80's and nothing been kept up because there is no regulation. Do you blame Obama for your gallbladder needing to come out in the mid 90's too? He probably had something to do with that.
More idol conversation of no substance because I made sense and she can't get it.
MIL: how much longer are you going to have to travel?
Me: you mean?
MIL: like when do you stop traveling and stay home to work?
Me: the 12th of never
Exit, stage left
MIL: did you hear about the train crash?
Me: yeah isn't that terrible!
MIL: ever since that Obama got in office it's been one thing after another
Me: Jesus Christ, this is going to be deeper than I expect you to understand but for one thing he isn't the devil. For another thing Ronald Reagan deregulated every damned thing in the 80's and nothing been kept up because there is no regulation. Do you blame Obama for your gallbladder needing to come out in the mid 90's too? He probably had something to do with that.
More idol conversation of no substance because I made sense and she can't get it.
MIL: how much longer are you going to have to travel?
Me: you mean?
MIL: like when do you stop traveling and stay home to work?
Me: the 12th of never
Exit, stage left
MIL Chronicles - December 2017
MIL Chronicles. You knew it would happen, it’s Christmas.
Side note before story. We had friends over for Christmas dinner. She can’t get up our stairs so she can’t come over (see how I did that..) we tell her we are eating around 3:30-4 and that when we are finished we will bring her a couple plates of food.
5:01 - Big’s phone rings.
Big: hello, mother
MIL: I thought you were eating at 4?
Big: we did
MIL: well are you going to bring me my food or do I need to heat up some soup!
Big: where are you mother (his tone is not good, his eyebrows are super angry and he’s getting louder)
MIL: upstairs
Big: well why don’t you crow bar your ass out of that chair and get downstairs and I’ll bring your food over right away.
Another side note. I made the usual trimmings. Gravy and mashed potatoes were set aside for her before salt and pepper. Because she was, is and will always be a horrid cook and says she can’t have salt BUT wants me to find out the salt content of fried chicken at the grocery store. Stop. Also, I started making a Barefoot Contessa recipe a few years ago. Lots of fresh herbs, white wine, blah blah.
Big takes over 2 plates full of food, a bowl of gravy and two rolls. He’s gone for about 20 minutes. He’s recounted the story for our friends who heard his store of the conversation. Folks have a hard time conceiving of such nastiness. About 20 minutes later Big returns.
Big: well her majesty wants more of everything. Except the gravy. She said it’s shit water and not sure what you did to it.
Me: shit water. Shit. Water. Ok
Big: yeah, shit water. How’s that one?
Me: it’s gonna be shit water for the rest of my days. Every holiday. No gravy ever again. Shit water only.
As we make plates for friends to take home, our friend Virginia says yes a little of everything would be awesome, thank you!
Me: do you want shit water on it, or no?
Virginia: I loved the shit water, yes please!
Later that evening Big asks me to call her and tell her we are going to bed. I do so. Here is how that goes.
MIL: ok, your going to bed? Alright. Debbie thank you for the food! Except for your gravy, it wasn’t very good I’m sorry to say.
***please note what she called me***
Me: you mean the shit water?
MIL: ——-crickets——-
Me: ok well goodnight.
MIL: what did you have for dessert?
Me: ice cream cake.
MIL: ice cream cake?! It wasn’t anyone’s birthday!
Me: it was your son’s birthday. 15 days ago
MIL: ——-crickets———
Me: ok good night.
Fast forward to Tuesday afternoon. Big goes to her house for something.
MIL: Steven why didn’t you bring me a piece of ice cream cake
Big: I don’t know mother. Would you like a piece of ice cream cake
MIL: well yes! Also, Steven you didn’t get me any ice cream at the grocery store.
Big: it wasn’t on the list. Put it on the list and I’ll get it Saturday.
MIL: SATURDAY! You’d make me wait until Saturday?!
He went to get it later. When he returns she tells him she’s sorry she missed his birthday. He tells her why would this year be different from any other?
Shit water. Henceforth and forever more. I’ll invite you one day. You’ll love it. I’m quite sure.
Side note before story. We had friends over for Christmas dinner. She can’t get up our stairs so she can’t come over (see how I did that..) we tell her we are eating around 3:30-4 and that when we are finished we will bring her a couple plates of food.
5:01 - Big’s phone rings.
Big: hello, mother
MIL: I thought you were eating at 4?
Big: we did
MIL: well are you going to bring me my food or do I need to heat up some soup!
Big: where are you mother (his tone is not good, his eyebrows are super angry and he’s getting louder)
MIL: upstairs
Big: well why don’t you crow bar your ass out of that chair and get downstairs and I’ll bring your food over right away.
Another side note. I made the usual trimmings. Gravy and mashed potatoes were set aside for her before salt and pepper. Because she was, is and will always be a horrid cook and says she can’t have salt BUT wants me to find out the salt content of fried chicken at the grocery store. Stop. Also, I started making a Barefoot Contessa recipe a few years ago. Lots of fresh herbs, white wine, blah blah.
Big takes over 2 plates full of food, a bowl of gravy and two rolls. He’s gone for about 20 minutes. He’s recounted the story for our friends who heard his store of the conversation. Folks have a hard time conceiving of such nastiness. About 20 minutes later Big returns.
Big: well her majesty wants more of everything. Except the gravy. She said it’s shit water and not sure what you did to it.
Me: shit water. Shit. Water. Ok
Big: yeah, shit water. How’s that one?
Me: it’s gonna be shit water for the rest of my days. Every holiday. No gravy ever again. Shit water only.
As we make plates for friends to take home, our friend Virginia says yes a little of everything would be awesome, thank you!
Me: do you want shit water on it, or no?
Virginia: I loved the shit water, yes please!
Later that evening Big asks me to call her and tell her we are going to bed. I do so. Here is how that goes.
MIL: ok, your going to bed? Alright. Debbie thank you for the food! Except for your gravy, it wasn’t very good I’m sorry to say.
***please note what she called me***
Me: you mean the shit water?
MIL: ——-crickets——-
Me: ok well goodnight.
MIL: what did you have for dessert?
Me: ice cream cake.
MIL: ice cream cake?! It wasn’t anyone’s birthday!
Me: it was your son’s birthday. 15 days ago
MIL: ——-crickets———
Me: ok good night.
Fast forward to Tuesday afternoon. Big goes to her house for something.
MIL: Steven why didn’t you bring me a piece of ice cream cake
Big: I don’t know mother. Would you like a piece of ice cream cake
MIL: well yes! Also, Steven you didn’t get me any ice cream at the grocery store.
Big: it wasn’t on the list. Put it on the list and I’ll get it Saturday.
MIL: SATURDAY! You’d make me wait until Saturday?!
He went to get it later. When he returns she tells him she’s sorry she missed his birthday. He tells her why would this year be different from any other?
Shit water. Henceforth and forever more. I’ll invite you one day. You’ll love it. I’m quite sure.
MIL Chronicles - October 2015
MIL Chronicles
Prelude: I do mine and MIL's laundry together. Then I sort them and put hers on her bed to fold and then I take care of my stuff.
MIL: oh Deb can you come here
Me: yes, ma'am (arriving in her room with her holding one of my undergarments aloft)
MIL: I don't know what this is, I don't think it's mine. (Considering there are 3 less yards of fabric than her undergarments possess)
Me: nope, those are mine sorry
MIL: what are they?
Me: underwear if you're under 80
MIL: ***big eyes***
The end.
Prelude: I do mine and MIL's laundry together. Then I sort them and put hers on her bed to fold and then I take care of my stuff.
MIL: oh Deb can you come here
Me: yes, ma'am (arriving in her room with her holding one of my undergarments aloft)
MIL: I don't know what this is, I don't think it's mine. (Considering there are 3 less yards of fabric than her undergarments possess)
Me: nope, those are mine sorry
MIL: what are they?
Me: underwear if you're under 80
MIL: ***big eyes***
The end.
MIL Chronicles - April 2016
Part 1 - The Weekend could provide multiple parts - MIL Chronicle
Big: So I called my mother and asked her if she had opened the door today
Me: ok
Big: she says it looked windy so she didn't. So I asked her if she knew how warm it was outside. She said it was 69 degrees.
Me: but she didn't open the door?
Big: I asked her how she got it was 69 degrees. She said it says it on the thermostat. So I said did you look at the one on the counter (it's an indoor and outdoor one) and she said no. It must be 69 outside because it's still 69 inside.
Me: speechless.
Big: I have to get off the phone. I'm in shock. This is a new level.
Big: So I called my mother and asked her if she had opened the door today
Me: ok
Big: she says it looked windy so she didn't. So I asked her if she knew how warm it was outside. She said it was 69 degrees.
Me: but she didn't open the door?
Big: I asked her how she got it was 69 degrees. She said it says it on the thermostat. So I said did you look at the one on the counter (it's an indoor and outdoor one) and she said no. It must be 69 outside because it's still 69 inside.
Me: speechless.
Big: I have to get off the phone. I'm in shock. This is a new level.
MIL Chronicles - December 2015
MIL Chronicle
Post Christmas dinner with my family at a restaurant in Leesburg. The restaurant was a classic upscale American cuisine.
MIL: Steven said the restaurant was alright.
Me: it was. He's not a big fan of she-she fancy food
MIL: it was Chinese?!
Me: no. I wasn't speaking Chinese.
I easily could have been...maybe I am speaking Chinese to her.
Post Christmas dinner with my family at a restaurant in Leesburg. The restaurant was a classic upscale American cuisine.
MIL: Steven said the restaurant was alright.
Me: it was. He's not a big fan of she-she fancy food
MIL: it was Chinese?!
Me: no. I wasn't speaking Chinese.
I easily could have been...maybe I am speaking Chinese to her.
MIL Chronicles - April 2017
MIL Chronicles (part deux) *language and adult content-which is real life for me*
MIL: could you imagine being that rich?
She's speaking of the orange guy fucking shit up.
Me: nope
MIL: don't you wish you could marry him, because he wouldn't want to just date he is honorable and wants to be married
Me: you mean the guy that has cheated on every wife, 2 of the 3 immigrants and then marries the mistress? That guy? No. Not just no...
MIL: oh come on you'd be living in all that gold!
Me: I like my house that I work for, thank you.
MIL: but if you could get a million dollars you'd sleep with him wouldn't you?
Me: NOT JUST NO, hell no
MIL: why not!
Me: first, he's disgusting. Second he hates women, old people, poor people and anyone who isn't orange like him. Third he's a douche. Forth I've seen his little tiny thumbs and THAT would be a waste of my time. SIZE MATTERS
MIL: laughing so hard she is crying .... Debra get out of here!
Me: 🎤 drop. Close the door. Lock her in. Go scrub my mind with Clorox at the very idea.
MIL: could you imagine being that rich?
She's speaking of the orange guy fucking shit up.
Me: nope
MIL: don't you wish you could marry him, because he wouldn't want to just date he is honorable and wants to be married
Me: you mean the guy that has cheated on every wife, 2 of the 3 immigrants and then marries the mistress? That guy? No. Not just no...
MIL: oh come on you'd be living in all that gold!
Me: I like my house that I work for, thank you.
MIL: but if you could get a million dollars you'd sleep with him wouldn't you?
Me: NOT JUST NO, hell no
MIL: why not!
Me: first, he's disgusting. Second he hates women, old people, poor people and anyone who isn't orange like him. Third he's a douche. Forth I've seen his little tiny thumbs and THAT would be a waste of my time. SIZE MATTERS
MIL: laughing so hard she is crying .... Debra get out of here!
Me: 🎤 drop. Close the door. Lock her in. Go scrub my mind with Clorox at the very idea.
MIL Chronicles - March 2015
MIL Chronicles: T minus 8 days
Big: (to me) Linda brought me baked ziti today
Me: oh that's nice. Has Gail brought cookies again?
These are clients of his.
MIL: oh STEVEN you eat the stuff they bring you?!
Me: oh yeah. He has quite a little network going. He's only wearing the cologne I hate at work and his harem is bringing food.
Big: *head thrown back laughing* shut up
Me: yeah I shouldn't even cook for him, I should let them
MIL: I can't believe you eat that shit they bring you! You don't know what their kitchen looks like. It's probably dirty as shit!
(She is the only good cook on the planet and the only one who has a clean kitchen. That's the story. Here comes the hook.)
Big: mother these women are my friends. I've been to Gail's house! Deb and I helped her when she had her hip replacement. I'm not worried about those kitchens
MIL: you don't know they could have cats that jump all over the counters and there could be feathers in the food. Ack! No.
Big: (to me, laughing) this one over here had cats with feathers! Mother, cats have fur not feathers.
MIL: you know what I mean
Big: no, most of the time I really don't.
Big: (to me) Linda brought me baked ziti today
Me: oh that's nice. Has Gail brought cookies again?
These are clients of his.
MIL: oh STEVEN you eat the stuff they bring you?!
Me: oh yeah. He has quite a little network going. He's only wearing the cologne I hate at work and his harem is bringing food.
Big: *head thrown back laughing* shut up
Me: yeah I shouldn't even cook for him, I should let them
MIL: I can't believe you eat that shit they bring you! You don't know what their kitchen looks like. It's probably dirty as shit!
(She is the only good cook on the planet and the only one who has a clean kitchen. That's the story. Here comes the hook.)
Big: mother these women are my friends. I've been to Gail's house! Deb and I helped her when she had her hip replacement. I'm not worried about those kitchens
MIL: you don't know they could have cats that jump all over the counters and there could be feathers in the food. Ack! No.
Big: (to me, laughing) this one over here had cats with feathers! Mother, cats have fur not feathers.
MIL: you know what I mean
Big: no, most of the time I really don't.
MIL Chronicles - April 2017
MIL Chronicles
Me: the amount of dark chocolate you eat is equivalent to about 3 cokes a day. That's why you can't sleep
MIL: they say that but I don't believe that.
Me: denying the thing you don't like doesn't mean it's not true.
MIL: I'm just always tired because I don't sleep at night. I think I'm emick
Me: do you mean ANemic?
MIL: yes, I was told I was when I was pregnant with Steven.
Me: so that's almost a HALF CENTURY ago. I've seen all your labs and you are not Anemic
MIL: I don't know why I can't sleep.
Me: we just went in a circle. Did you feel that?
Me: the amount of dark chocolate you eat is equivalent to about 3 cokes a day. That's why you can't sleep
MIL: they say that but I don't believe that.
Me: denying the thing you don't like doesn't mean it's not true.
MIL: I'm just always tired because I don't sleep at night. I think I'm emick
Me: do you mean ANemic?
MIL: yes, I was told I was when I was pregnant with Steven.
Me: so that's almost a HALF CENTURY ago. I've seen all your labs and you are not Anemic
MIL: I don't know why I can't sleep.
Me: we just went in a circle. Did you feel that?
Sunday, February 25, 2018
MIL Chronicles - Feb 25, 2018 - and a helpful hint...
I'll begin my story as if you already know the MIL Chronicles. You likely do. Soon enough they will all be here and you can catch up.
So MIL is on hospice. The hospice I used to work for. Her nurse is a lovely young woman and a terrific hospice nurse. She knows her stuff and makes MIL feel special every time she is in the house. That makes me happy and Big crazy. He likes to be the authority, you see and it aggravates that MIL can hear the same words from myself or Big and pay no attention nor retain the information but when the hospice nurse says it, it is GOSPEL. It is and that's fine. Even someone as nutty fruit cake as MIL deserves some happiness and light at the end. She has been on for 3 months. I didn't think she would be recertified but she did it! I'm grateful. MIL loves her nurse and the home hospice aide who comes to see her 3X a week and make sure she showers safely and gets dressed, fluffed and puffed has also won MIL's heart. I am grateful for this, too. I have seen what it looks like when MIL is not over the top crazy about someone. It's painful and makes me have violent thoughts. So we have 3 more months of this great care for her.
Big and I have taken much abuse lately about the fact that we don't do anything for her. That's her view, you see. Well we have had a few go rounds. I try to do what I can, but frankly with my travel schedule Big is reluctant to let me out of his site when I am home and he is home. I'm good with that, but every now and then I need to do more for MIL. More for me than for her. Even though she is a total PIA and not a nice person and would drive Christ himself insane, she's the only mother either of us have left so I do what family does and take care of family. My friend who does my nails says I am actually Asian based on the way I take care of my family. A compliment to be sure.
This weekend was one where I felt like I needed to help MIL a little. She has arthritis (she says artharitis) in her shoulders. She from way back thinks however, that pain means stop moving rather than move more to keep mobile. Hence being 5'5" and 250lbs. I do know that when she really hurts she doesn't make food for herself other than toast or applesauce or candy or chips or pretzels (all low sodium, dontcha know) and has nothing to eat all week in the way of left overs.
Friday - me working from home:
On Friday's I work from home. When I say I work from home I don't mean I am on the couch chilling and watching TV. I mean I work for a nationwide company and Friday is marathon call day and finish up reports day and any manner of things. It is not uncommon for me to be on the phone for a solid 7 hours on a Friday with various calls. I'm not exaggerating. Whilst on one of my many calls on Friday, MIL calls me. I send her to voicemail because...working.... I text Big and ask him to call her and see what she needs.
This does 2 things. #1 it pisses Big off because he tells her every week to leave me alone because I am working. #2 it pisses her off because she calls me to try to get me to do things that she can hide from Big. She isn't accustomed to he and I being married and actually speaking to each other.
This issue was, she was eating her 2nd ice cream bar with dark chocolate coating, she dropped chocolate on the dining room throw rug. (you should know at this point that she only eats dark chocolate because it's good for you..."they" say it's good for you) This was an emergency and she wanted me to come over right away to get it out. Um, no. Because...working. Big's text message back to me went something like don't you dare go over there.
He did tell her earlier in the day to make her grocery list so I could go shopping for her when I finished working. She was put out by this request as she didn't feel like it. Isn't that sad? So anyway, Big told her I would be there between 5p and 6p depending on when I finished working. Between. He said Between. Remember that, it'll have meaning in a couple of sentences.
My marathon call day continues until around 5:45p. As I get off the last call Big texts me and says call me before you go to mother's. So I do.
Big: Do you know what that lunatic is doing?
Me: Nope...because...working.
Big: I told her between 5 and 6, right?
Me: Yes
Big: Well she called me at 10 minutes after 5 wanting to know when you were coming over because she is waiting for you downstairs.
Me: So that's unfortunate.
Big: I just checked on her on the camera. She is sitting in her chairlift with her hands flying and losing her f'ing mind bitching at something real or imagined. She's pissed you aren't there.
Me: Know what's interesting? She never says anything to me when I go over there. She only bitches about me to you.
I go over and she's a little on edge, but fine. I go grocery shopping and come back. I am weighed down like a pack mule because I don't want to have to take the cart back to the store. We live right behind the store and I walk to get groceries. Every time - I'm saying EVERY TIME she says, "Deb why didn't you bring the cart and just come in through the garage? You shouldn't be carrying all that stuff! You'll get artharitis in your shoulders like me and not be able to move them." Every time - I'm saying EVERY TIME I say, "No the way to not get stiff and cease up is to KEEP moving and KEEP lifting." And I am too lazy to take the cart back. There is that.
After the groceries are put away and she bitches about how much of this I got or how much of that I got (potato chips that are low sodium are this week's burr under her saddle. She asked for two bags. I got three because the last time I got her these chips she had blown through a bag by Sunday night) she has me come over to see the chocolate on the rug. She proceeds to tell me that it must have happened the day before. Yet, she needed me to come over at 11:30am immediately to get it off the rug. Uh huh. I tell her I will be back on Saturday to get it out with my little steam cleaner. I also offer to cook for her for the week. She graciously accepts my offer.
Saturday I go over around 1pm and cook for a solid 3 hours. 2 pasta dishes (she's diabetic but doesn't know what carbs are and their effect is, despite my telling her so I make pasta. My blood sugar is fine) 20 cookies, 3 hard boiled eggs and clean the kitchen. THEN I rev up the steam cleaner to clean the rug. She tells me why don't you just come back tomorrow and do the rug. This is code for I am tired of sitting down here and want to go up to my recliner that I live in. I tell her to go on up, I won't be insulted but that I want to get it done. As soon as she is upstairs I open the back door to the garage, prop it open and allow some cool air to come in. It's hotter than hell in the joint. Old people hot coupled with cooking hot and I'm melting. I make her the cup of juice she has in the afternoon. It's diluted with water so it's not so sweet, says she. It's really so it will last longer because she is as tight as the bark on a tree! It's grape juice. Remember that. It'll be important later. I finish and go home.
It's nail night. Every two weeks Big and I go and get pedicures, he gets a manicure and I have my nails done. It's relaxing. Don't tell anyone, Big doesn't want his friends to know. Anyway, we finish some things at home and go out to run a couple of errands and head to the nail shop. At this point I am thinking MIL is all set. She has plenty of food, plenty of milk, plenty of snacks. Now we can decompress!
I sit in my pedicure chair. My friend puts the little tin foilies on my nails to take off the polish and commence relaxing. My phone rings. The ring tone is the Scarecrow...you know the one, from that famous film about the chick from Kansas who wants to get back home and wears all the sparkles on her shoes? That's MIL's ringtone. So anyway, picking up the phone in the little foilies is hard. Answering it is harder. As soon as it starts to ring, Big looks over and says Oh COME ON, seriously?? Yes. I finally manage to pick it up:
MIL: Deb?
Me: (thinking that is who you were calling) Hi Dena
MIL: (whimpering) Oh Deb, I spilled my juice (now full blown crying) I'm so sorry!
Me: the grape juice? On the carpet? (the carpet is WHITE)
MIL: yes!
Me: Ok, well I am out running some errands right now but I will be over when I get home to clean it up.
MIL: ok, thank you. I'm so sorry. You just worked all day for me and now you need to come back.
Me: it's ok
Now I tell Big this issue:
Me: Grape juice. Spilled. On the carpet in her sitting room
Big: She has to eat and drink up stairs...has to. Can't leave it downstairs.
Me: No she can't. She doesn't want to. She is 82 and will be dead soon and wherever she wants to eat she should eat. That said...M..F! I just cleaned and dried the steam cleaner! Fuck. Now I have to get it allllllll out again.
Big: will it come out?
Me: Grape juice? Hell no it won't.
I am finishing up my nails and tell him to google how to get it out. 2 cups water to 1 tbsp of ammonia, says Dr. Google. Ok...I'll try it. First we go back to Walgreens that we have already been to TWICE today to buy her 2 cups to put juice in. Ones that actually shut. Ones that aren't going to have a stupid straw. Because she will still drink upstairs.
The stain was a big area. White carpet. I said that, right? White. Because she likes things bright. And never opens the blinds. I digress, yes white carpet. I start with the steam cleaner. Zero results. So I mix up the ammonia concoction and commence to soak it down as Dr. Google suggests. The chemical reaction turns the purple juice to blue and THEN it actually starts to come out of the carpet!!! Miracle. That's what that is. I clean it and ammonia it and clean it and ammonia it a few times. I got damned near all of it up. Seriously, call me Heloise because this tip is the shit!
I then make the decision that the steam cleaner should probably just stay at her house. I feel like it gets most of it's use there. Big, of course, never missing an opportunity, tells her on the phone later this is the reason the dog can't come over anymore. She drops things that are not good for him and can't pick them up. She just thinks Big is being an ass. Matters not, the dog isn't going over there.
Now we are alllll finished with the second stained carpet. She gets choked up...but don't worry because she has an internal switch where she can turn tears off and on like a LIGHT SWITCH and asks me how can she ever repay me. The answer on the tip of my tongue is held back and I just say oh stop it you don't owe me anything.
And then I went home. Luckily home is across the sidewalk. As I told Big when we decided to move her here...it's gonna be a PIA, I don't want it to be a PIA with a 45 minute commute in each direction.
Another relaxing weekend in the books. The End.
So MIL is on hospice. The hospice I used to work for. Her nurse is a lovely young woman and a terrific hospice nurse. She knows her stuff and makes MIL feel special every time she is in the house. That makes me happy and Big crazy. He likes to be the authority, you see and it aggravates that MIL can hear the same words from myself or Big and pay no attention nor retain the information but when the hospice nurse says it, it is GOSPEL. It is and that's fine. Even someone as nutty fruit cake as MIL deserves some happiness and light at the end. She has been on for 3 months. I didn't think she would be recertified but she did it! I'm grateful. MIL loves her nurse and the home hospice aide who comes to see her 3X a week and make sure she showers safely and gets dressed, fluffed and puffed has also won MIL's heart. I am grateful for this, too. I have seen what it looks like when MIL is not over the top crazy about someone. It's painful and makes me have violent thoughts. So we have 3 more months of this great care for her.
Big and I have taken much abuse lately about the fact that we don't do anything for her. That's her view, you see. Well we have had a few go rounds. I try to do what I can, but frankly with my travel schedule Big is reluctant to let me out of his site when I am home and he is home. I'm good with that, but every now and then I need to do more for MIL. More for me than for her. Even though she is a total PIA and not a nice person and would drive Christ himself insane, she's the only mother either of us have left so I do what family does and take care of family. My friend who does my nails says I am actually Asian based on the way I take care of my family. A compliment to be sure.
This weekend was one where I felt like I needed to help MIL a little. She has arthritis (she says artharitis) in her shoulders. She from way back thinks however, that pain means stop moving rather than move more to keep mobile. Hence being 5'5" and 250lbs. I do know that when she really hurts she doesn't make food for herself other than toast or applesauce or candy or chips or pretzels (all low sodium, dontcha know) and has nothing to eat all week in the way of left overs.
Friday - me working from home:
On Friday's I work from home. When I say I work from home I don't mean I am on the couch chilling and watching TV. I mean I work for a nationwide company and Friday is marathon call day and finish up reports day and any manner of things. It is not uncommon for me to be on the phone for a solid 7 hours on a Friday with various calls. I'm not exaggerating. Whilst on one of my many calls on Friday, MIL calls me. I send her to voicemail because...working.... I text Big and ask him to call her and see what she needs.
This does 2 things. #1 it pisses Big off because he tells her every week to leave me alone because I am working. #2 it pisses her off because she calls me to try to get me to do things that she can hide from Big. She isn't accustomed to he and I being married and actually speaking to each other.
This issue was, she was eating her 2nd ice cream bar with dark chocolate coating, she dropped chocolate on the dining room throw rug. (you should know at this point that she only eats dark chocolate because it's good for you..."they" say it's good for you) This was an emergency and she wanted me to come over right away to get it out. Um, no. Because...working. Big's text message back to me went something like don't you dare go over there.
He did tell her earlier in the day to make her grocery list so I could go shopping for her when I finished working. She was put out by this request as she didn't feel like it. Isn't that sad? So anyway, Big told her I would be there between 5p and 6p depending on when I finished working. Between. He said Between. Remember that, it'll have meaning in a couple of sentences.
My marathon call day continues until around 5:45p. As I get off the last call Big texts me and says call me before you go to mother's. So I do.
Big: Do you know what that lunatic is doing?
Me: Nope...because...working.
Big: I told her between 5 and 6, right?
Me: Yes
Big: Well she called me at 10 minutes after 5 wanting to know when you were coming over because she is waiting for you downstairs.
Me: So that's unfortunate.
Big: I just checked on her on the camera. She is sitting in her chairlift with her hands flying and losing her f'ing mind bitching at something real or imagined. She's pissed you aren't there.
Me: Know what's interesting? She never says anything to me when I go over there. She only bitches about me to you.
I go over and she's a little on edge, but fine. I go grocery shopping and come back. I am weighed down like a pack mule because I don't want to have to take the cart back to the store. We live right behind the store and I walk to get groceries. Every time - I'm saying EVERY TIME she says, "Deb why didn't you bring the cart and just come in through the garage? You shouldn't be carrying all that stuff! You'll get artharitis in your shoulders like me and not be able to move them." Every time - I'm saying EVERY TIME I say, "No the way to not get stiff and cease up is to KEEP moving and KEEP lifting." And I am too lazy to take the cart back. There is that.
After the groceries are put away and she bitches about how much of this I got or how much of that I got (potato chips that are low sodium are this week's burr under her saddle. She asked for two bags. I got three because the last time I got her these chips she had blown through a bag by Sunday night) she has me come over to see the chocolate on the rug. She proceeds to tell me that it must have happened the day before. Yet, she needed me to come over at 11:30am immediately to get it off the rug. Uh huh. I tell her I will be back on Saturday to get it out with my little steam cleaner. I also offer to cook for her for the week. She graciously accepts my offer.
Saturday I go over around 1pm and cook for a solid 3 hours. 2 pasta dishes (she's diabetic but doesn't know what carbs are and their effect is, despite my telling her so I make pasta. My blood sugar is fine) 20 cookies, 3 hard boiled eggs and clean the kitchen. THEN I rev up the steam cleaner to clean the rug. She tells me why don't you just come back tomorrow and do the rug. This is code for I am tired of sitting down here and want to go up to my recliner that I live in. I tell her to go on up, I won't be insulted but that I want to get it done. As soon as she is upstairs I open the back door to the garage, prop it open and allow some cool air to come in. It's hotter than hell in the joint. Old people hot coupled with cooking hot and I'm melting. I make her the cup of juice she has in the afternoon. It's diluted with water so it's not so sweet, says she. It's really so it will last longer because she is as tight as the bark on a tree! It's grape juice. Remember that. It'll be important later. I finish and go home.
It's nail night. Every two weeks Big and I go and get pedicures, he gets a manicure and I have my nails done. It's relaxing. Don't tell anyone, Big doesn't want his friends to know. Anyway, we finish some things at home and go out to run a couple of errands and head to the nail shop. At this point I am thinking MIL is all set. She has plenty of food, plenty of milk, plenty of snacks. Now we can decompress!
I sit in my pedicure chair. My friend puts the little tin foilies on my nails to take off the polish and commence relaxing. My phone rings. The ring tone is the Scarecrow...you know the one, from that famous film about the chick from Kansas who wants to get back home and wears all the sparkles on her shoes? That's MIL's ringtone. So anyway, picking up the phone in the little foilies is hard. Answering it is harder. As soon as it starts to ring, Big looks over and says Oh COME ON, seriously?? Yes. I finally manage to pick it up:
MIL: Deb?
Me: (thinking that is who you were calling) Hi Dena
MIL: (whimpering) Oh Deb, I spilled my juice (now full blown crying) I'm so sorry!
Me: the grape juice? On the carpet? (the carpet is WHITE)
MIL: yes!
Me: Ok, well I am out running some errands right now but I will be over when I get home to clean it up.
MIL: ok, thank you. I'm so sorry. You just worked all day for me and now you need to come back.
Me: it's ok
Now I tell Big this issue:
Me: Grape juice. Spilled. On the carpet in her sitting room
Big: She has to eat and drink up stairs...has to. Can't leave it downstairs.
Me: No she can't. She doesn't want to. She is 82 and will be dead soon and wherever she wants to eat she should eat. That said...M..F! I just cleaned and dried the steam cleaner! Fuck. Now I have to get it allllllll out again.
Big: will it come out?
Me: Grape juice? Hell no it won't.
I am finishing up my nails and tell him to google how to get it out. 2 cups water to 1 tbsp of ammonia, says Dr. Google. Ok...I'll try it. First we go back to Walgreens that we have already been to TWICE today to buy her 2 cups to put juice in. Ones that actually shut. Ones that aren't going to have a stupid straw. Because she will still drink upstairs.
The stain was a big area. White carpet. I said that, right? White. Because she likes things bright. And never opens the blinds. I digress, yes white carpet. I start with the steam cleaner. Zero results. So I mix up the ammonia concoction and commence to soak it down as Dr. Google suggests. The chemical reaction turns the purple juice to blue and THEN it actually starts to come out of the carpet!!! Miracle. That's what that is. I clean it and ammonia it and clean it and ammonia it a few times. I got damned near all of it up. Seriously, call me Heloise because this tip is the shit!
I then make the decision that the steam cleaner should probably just stay at her house. I feel like it gets most of it's use there. Big, of course, never missing an opportunity, tells her on the phone later this is the reason the dog can't come over anymore. She drops things that are not good for him and can't pick them up. She just thinks Big is being an ass. Matters not, the dog isn't going over there.
Now we are alllll finished with the second stained carpet. She gets choked up...but don't worry because she has an internal switch where she can turn tears off and on like a LIGHT SWITCH and asks me how can she ever repay me. The answer on the tip of my tongue is held back and I just say oh stop it you don't owe me anything.
And then I went home. Luckily home is across the sidewalk. As I told Big when we decided to move her here...it's gonna be a PIA, I don't want it to be a PIA with a 45 minute commute in each direction.
Another relaxing weekend in the books. The End.
I'm Back...
So in reading through my old blog's, I recognize a couple of things. First, a couple are hidden. Someone who read my blog gave me some good advice and said that there are somethings my children shouldn't have to know about me or the people I love. That was good advice.
2011 was probably the hardest year of my life. There was so much turmoil. Professional changes, starting my BSN, my marriage imploding...to be recovered, but I didn't know that when it all started. It's really no wonder that I didn't continue. Once I had my voice again I stopped for a long time. Mostly because I could hear my own voice again.
Now I'm back. I've exercised my voice for the better part of 7 years. Much of it on FaceBook and even more of it nowhere else. This spot is mine. You will never see commentary from my work life unless there is something so fantastic that it bears telling, but for the most part nothing. I learned that lesson. Most especially if it's a job I still have!
The biggest change in life (for the purpose of good story telling) has been the MIL Chronicles. The MIL (Mother-In-Law) Chronicles have been a good way to get the ridiculous off my chest and to provide laughter to others at my obvious expense! Seriously, it helps me to laugh, too.
The next entry after this one will be about this weekend's MIL events. Soon, I will figure how to pull all the old ones off of FaceBook and get them here so they are easily perused.
And we're off....
2011 was probably the hardest year of my life. There was so much turmoil. Professional changes, starting my BSN, my marriage imploding...to be recovered, but I didn't know that when it all started. It's really no wonder that I didn't continue. Once I had my voice again I stopped for a long time. Mostly because I could hear my own voice again.
Now I'm back. I've exercised my voice for the better part of 7 years. Much of it on FaceBook and even more of it nowhere else. This spot is mine. You will never see commentary from my work life unless there is something so fantastic that it bears telling, but for the most part nothing. I learned that lesson. Most especially if it's a job I still have!
The biggest change in life (for the purpose of good story telling) has been the MIL Chronicles. The MIL (Mother-In-Law) Chronicles have been a good way to get the ridiculous off my chest and to provide laughter to others at my obvious expense! Seriously, it helps me to laugh, too.
The next entry after this one will be about this weekend's MIL events. Soon, I will figure how to pull all the old ones off of FaceBook and get them here so they are easily perused.
And we're off....
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