I was at the post office yesterday when Mom phoned, wanting me to get on the internet and make Social Security get her address change to go through. Can't help right now, can I? She decided to write a letter.
At the post office there was a long line and I had stood in it until I was only four people away from the counter, and Mike said he had to go pee NOW. And Dave did too, for that matter. They just couldn't wait another second. I had to get out of line and march three blocks to the bank (nearest bathroom that I have a "right" to use rather than asking permission or sneaking into like a criminal) and as Mom was still on the phone and could hear one side of the conversation, I explained this briefly to her. She said, "I don't know what to tell you!" and I said testily, "I was NOT asking for a solution! I was only letting you know what was going on."

Today I called her to apologize for snapping at her yesterday, then got snappy again as she still seemed to think the topic was kids and their potty habits. She told me that her mother told her (and that makes the information more legitimate?) to always take kids to the bathroom before leaving the house. Well, guess what, I am STILL!!!!!!! not seeking any answers to the potty at the post office thing!

Bottom line, I am an argumentative brat.

Posted by jesdiary at 10:25 AM EDT

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Mom phoned. "Are you praying that my house will sell?" I said, "I'm praying that you'll do something that will eventually make you happy." I said, "I can see the future as if I was there, it'll be, 'I moved away from my beautiful house that I love for THIS?'" She said, "I cannot live here any more," and started crying. She said she can't work like this any more. She's hauled and shoveled and moved things and worked and worked, and she can't do it any more. I said, "Yes, there comes a point..."
But you know, if she would really accept that that point has come, it might work. But inside, she hasn't. She wants out of her workload for the day, but isn't ready to put it down for good. I've said before that I think the day she isn't creating work for herself, she'll just lie down and die.
She said, "When things start blooming and budding it's like paradise here, but you just need to remind me of this!"
I had actually returned her call, so she called me back so she could yap at leisure. I just made some grunts in response, but once I forgot to make any, so she accused me of not listening and asked what was the last thing she'd said. Luckily I could come up with it! "Something about the transparent stuff over your skylight?" Yep. Whew.
I told her I was playing Zuma, and had to explain what that was. She scoffed and said, "Imagine having nothing to do but play marble games!" I said angrily, "I'm talking on the phone, which is the world's most useless occupation!"
She was on the phone my entire childhood, and couldn't come watch my cartoons with me.

Posted by jesdiary at 7:04 PM EST

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I phoned Mom to talk about the slab, and she's worried. She doesn't want to spend a penny more than she has to. I sneer at the idea of doing it on the cheap. She's going to have plenty of money when she sells her house. And since she's predisposed to unhappiness in this rainy environment, she should spend as many pennies as it takes to make a luxuriously large expanse of concrete to live on. She should not even consider not having guest parking. She says, "I won't be having guests at your house!" I said, "This is your house we're talking about here, and it's inevitable someone will come over sooner or later, and you can't make them waddle through the mud to get to your house." She says, "Ed wrote down a 20x20 shed here, but I don't need one that large!" I said, "You don't? You sure? How about a table for doing gardening? How about washer and dryer and laundry table? How about shelving?" If she doesn't have a really big shed, she'll end up with junk and clutter stacked on the outside, and that's what'll cause problems with Ed.

Posted by jesdiary at 6:49 PM EST

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Mom just called and wanted me to look up the weather for her area. She's sick of snow and said if it doesn't stop snowing she's going to board the windows up and leave. I said, "You'd like it up here today. It's raining." She said, "Anything's better than this snow." I said, "But the snow is so pretty! It's so white and fluffy!" She said, "Tell me about it." I said, "Snow is pretty! It's so white and fluffy!" She said, "Thank you." I said, "Want me to tell you about it some more?" She said, "No thanks, that will do."
Her best buddy S. had told her she'd never have to pack in wood... but he's gone to a job that pays more than her $10 an hour, and she doesn't have wood and she's cold. She got some guy on the phone, and he asked if she didn't have any bark. Good grief, picture the old lady down there having to gather bark in the snow to keep her fires going so she doesn't freeze!
She says she is really, really moving up here. She said this hasn't been a good year, and she's been leaning towards coming up here.
I produced my diary entry and read it to her. December 3rd, 2006: "Mom is really not moving in here. She just can't stand it. The weather's too crappy. She says the people up here are so unfriendly! She said everybody walks around with tunnel vision, not looking at those around them. She says down there everybody smiles at everybody else, and holds the door open and says, "Nice day, isn't it?" And the days are all nice. She says if she lives one more year or twenty, she should do it in a place where she's happy. Okay, fine."
She said, "Write this down! February 27th, 2007. Mom is tired of packing wood, tired of living in the snow, this is the last winter she's going to do it, and it's woman's privilege to change her mind, so there you have it!"
I told her we were going for pizza. She said, "Pizza is what puts stuff on the hips!"
Oh, really? I didn't know that. Maybe next she'll be able to tell me where these babies are coming from!
I told Victoria the whole phone call. She said, "She has a right to change her mind, what, every two weeks?" then she quoted Shrek, "You have the right to remain silent, what you lack is the capacity." That wasn't exactly on target, was it? But still darn funny.

Posted by jesdiary at 6:46 PM EST

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I phoned Mom and found her crying. She'd had a letter from Dad's late sister's daughter, a gal who lives in the deep South California, who has an extra room, and would love for Mom to come live with them. She tells her how beautiful and sunny it is there. Well, I had just called to let her know that it was a dark grey, drippy day, and that she would hate a day like this! On this day, Mom would be unhappy! She would be complaining!

I always weigh the pros and cons for her, and I weigh whether it's possible for her to live with Ed. I should really look at it in terms of myself. Do I want her here or not? That's not all that clear, still weighing pros and cons. But I think I can't have her move anywhere else. Dad did make me promise to love her. I think destiny's pointing her this direction, and I should just steel myself and start actively encouraging her to move in here. Perhaps she's waiting for such a thing?

Posted by jesdiary at 4:46 AM EST

Updated: Monday, 12 March 2007 11:48 AM EDT

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On the way home I drove another way just to see if there was any property for sale, and there was a sign on the ground, for some property down a clearing which I happened to admire from long ago! I walked into that clearing once. So, it's far enough away to be Mom's own place, yet close enough to walk!
Unfortunately it turns out to be 20 acres there. It's the whole mountain, and they want $279 for it. A bit much for raw land.
Told Mom that, and she phoned right back wanting me to have Ed make a definite list of what area she gets, what she can and can't do on it, and how much she has to pay per month, if she moves in here. I said, "You just can't make a mess." Well, that's another thing! She wants me to NEVER say again that she can't make a mess! Because she's not the one who came from a messy family, she was drawn into it, and went along to keep the peace.
Oh yeah, Dad made her stuff her kitchen drawers with crap, and collect bed sheets and towels. Dad made her collect Avon just in case. Yeah, right! Dad made her keep all those hats from the 50's because they'd be worth a fortune some day.
I said, "I don't think Ed can cut that out of his vocabulary. It's pretty much something that he says." She said, "Well, he'd better not say it to me! If he EVER says it again, I'm NOT moving there!"
Well, gee, that would make Ed... cry.

Posted by jesdiary at 4:27 AM EST

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Mom called me at nine last night. She had been to the new Home Depot in Medford. She noticed the thing on the receipt about entering a survey for a chance to win $5000, and wanted me to do that. Why doesn't she go to the computer at the library and do it herself instead of wasting both our time? I didn't say that last part. She says she can't understand any of that stuff. What 'stuff'? The librarian can show her how to go to the URL, and after that it's radio check boxes and a 'continue' button. She asked if those are on every receipt, and I said yes, and she asked if I had entered any of them. I said there was a microscopic chance of winning five grand, but an absolute certainty of wasting twenty minutes, and asked what her time was worth. That was a bit snippier than usual. It was quite late.
Hey, not that I've never wasted twenty minutes, but it has to be on something fun, so at least I get enjoyment for my twenty minutes. They're not exactly paying me, otherwise.
She phoned today and asked through Victoria if I wanted some like-new Dr. Scholl's t-strap closed toe sandals. Well, sure, they might be too big for me, but I'll try them rather than her give them away. THEN after hanging up, Victoria reveals that Mom was in the thrift shop, and said she would buy them. What? She doesn't have enough junk, or has too much money, or I don't have enough shoes? Argh. I realize she's trying to do something nice for me. Is it to make up for last night?
I am such a snot to my mother. I always have been. Oops, guilt!
Guilt has always been my biggest emotion towards her and my biggest motivator.

Posted by jesdiary at 3:52 AM EST

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Phone call from Mom. She's still wavering between staying and moving. Poor woman! That is quite a choice to be up against. And the truth of the matter is, I'd far rather live there, too. In my dreams, I'm always living there, or moving back there. It's 100% superior in every way to this present location. Down there it's clean air, clean landscape and plenty of dramatic things to experience outside. Here it's just rainy, damp, grey, misty, boring woods, and bugs in the summer. Rattlesnakes... yes, there's that. I wouldn't be comfortable if my kids were running around there.
She says she's just about gotten the place clean enough that she isn't embarrassed about it any more. I said it looked like had reduced most of the junk by now. She said, "Oh, you have no idea. You just don't know! When you were here, you only sat in the house and looked at the computer! You don't know what's up in the back!" I said, "You've got to be kidding! I'm the one who always ran around the hills!" She said, "Maybe you did when you were young, but that was a long time ago!" I said, "No, it was the last time I was there. Don't you remember? You told me I should go ahead and go for my walk because I was never coming there again. So yeah, I did go have a good look around!"
She was startled and after a pause, talked in a more mild way, minus the condescension.

Posted by jesdiary at 3:41 AM EST

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I need a blog to talk about my mother. It's actually a GOOD motivation. I have incredible frustration in that direction, which is about to get worse as she moves into a trailer in my back yard.
I can't HELP arguing with her! It's not like she was a terrible mother or anything. Maybe I was a bad kid. I can't put my finger on the problem. I know it's bad to keep feelings bottled up. But it would be worse to blow off steam in her direction, because she does NOT understand when I talk, and she's very old and getting tired... and I promised my dad on his deathbed I would love her. Not just 'take care of'... because he loved her, and he wanted me to, also. Well, I kind of do love her, you know? She's my MOTHER after all.
But I don't always like her... I've got tons of frustration because of stupid things she did, I mean lots of stupid things. It may be STUPID on my part to blame her for the way I turned out. She blames ME for the way I turned out.
I'm getting completely weirded out about the idea of her moving here. She needs help as she gets old, and she wants to be around her grandchildren. Okay, that's valid and legitimate. The only problem is ME.
I'm signing up for a blog because I need a non-destructive place to talk about it. I need somebody to tell... somebody who isn't my sister (we do enough badmouthing of Mom already, I'm really quite ashamed of how we both talk about her) and isn't my husband, because she and he are already like cats and dogs. I can't tell him all my frustration, or it makes him want to 'defend' me and then he'll be even less respectful of her.
Um, yeah. That's the sitch. Welcome to my blog.

Posted by jesdiary at 3:38 AM EST

Updated: Sunday, 4 March 2007 8:18 PM EST

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