Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Good Mood, Bad Cop, Bad Mood
Mom was feeling great when I awoke her. She was a little slow because I didn't wait for her to wake up on her own. Last night I said, "I've got an idea. I'm concerned about how much you're sleeping. I'm not freaking out about it but I think it might help our efforts to get you moving if you slept a bit less at night. You can still nap in the afternoon if you want. But I think when you go to bed I'll awaken you exactly 12 hours after your light goes out if you're not already up. How does that sound to you?"
"Good. Good. I think I can handle that."
So at 1030 this morning I was running my finger teasingly down her arm and whispering, "Mrs. Hudson, Mrs. Hudson, you're ride's here." I love to wake her up with a variety of calls.
It took her some minutes to get her hand over the bed for blood glucose testing but once that was done she was up 'n at'em. Bathing was a breeze. We joked a bit, as usual, about my "obsession" with looking at her pee when she rises for me to wash her torso and back.
As I was finishing off the bacon, cutting into the perfectly baked loaf of bread machine bread and slipping it in the toaster I mentioned that I thought today would be a good day for a short walkering jaunt. "I've got to go to New Frontiers, Mom. You need some more aloe vera gel, we could use some more Peach Detox tea, it's probably the store where I'll find vital gluten for the wheat bread and we could pick up a potato for the potato bread you want to try. It'll be a short trip, it's a small store. I think it might be a good trip for a little walkering, today. How does that sound?"
Ooooh...should'a', could'a', would'a'...she gave me that "Watch you're mouth, girl" look and said, curtly, "We'll see..."
I let my voice vanish into dead air. Give her some time to ponder it, I thought.
Maybe 10 minutes later she said, "You know that TV show you've been watching lately at night?" Her voice was gruff. Her chin jutted toward the side window. She was avoiding eye contact with me.
I know this woman through and through, so I knew which one she meant, especially since she referred to it as the show I'd been insisting on "watching lately". I could see the storm gathering so I decided to play it light and innocent, even though I knew what was coming. "Deadwood, right?"
"Yes. I don't like that show. I don't want to watch it anymore."
I was partly amused and partly irritated. I decided to play irritated for her. "Really! Well, that's news, seeing as how a week ago you couldn't get enough of it, had me running all over town trying to find someplace where I could rent the first season, asked me to order it, which I did, and made me write down when the last episode was going to show so we wouldn't miss it."
"I guess I didn't know what I was doing."
Bad Mood City appeared to be approaching. I let it go, sort of. I couldn't resist, "Well, it's on it's way. It should be delivered tomorrow. So, I guess I'll see if I can return it or sell it to [the video store here that buys videos from customers]."
"Good."
We settled back into silence. I served breakfast. While we were eating I mentioned, "Damn, there's nothing that tastes quite like fresh bread. I wonder what it is...the yeast, maybe, or the lack of chemicals..."
"I don't care for it," she said, chewing on a hunk.
"Hmmm...that's interesting. Yesterday you tried to get me to make the wheat bread recipe without the gluten because you didn't think you could wait until today for it."
"I was probably talking off the top of my head."
"So, you're saying, you prefer store bought bread?"
"That's right."
We'd hit Second Street in Bad Mood City.
"Okay. No more fresh bread. No problem."
Mom fished for the bread recipe booklet and hid between the pages. After a few minutes she looked back out the dinette window and said (not asked, mind you), in a sour voice, "Can you tell me why I bought this house?"
At that point I had to laugh. So, I did. "Mom," I said, "you're in a bad mood. Yes, I can tell you why you bought this house, but the only time you ask that question is when you're in a bad mood and you don't like anything, including the house, and you're trying to manufacture an opening so you can tell me how much you hate the house and whatever else has gotten your goat!"
She looked down at the table and turned another page in the booklet. "Well," she said, implying the opposite, "maybe you're right."
"Okay," I said, "I know what the problem is. You don't want to do any walkering today."
Her head swiveled toward me in surprise. "No, I don't. But that doesn't have anything to do..."
"Yeah, Mom, it does. Don't worry. I've got the message. And I've read it. You don't have to go to the store with me today. We'll do your hair and I'll go to the store while it's drying."
She relaxed and took another bite of toast. "Good. Today just isn't the day for it."
I chuckled. "No, I can see that."
She took another bite of toast. "Good bread," she said. "Didn't you say you're making another loaf this afternoon?"
So, my guess is, if I tread lightly, we won't be selling the first season of Deadwood, either. Nor the house. And, we won't be doing any walkering soon.
Later today I mentioned that I thought we should at least do another round of exercises.
She made a face but agreed.
"Maybe you need to work up to walkering again, you think?"
She nodded.
"Not a problem." And, it isn't. Better, at this point, to let her decide what she wants to negotiate.
Later.
"Good. Good. I think I can handle that."
So at 1030 this morning I was running my finger teasingly down her arm and whispering, "Mrs. Hudson, Mrs. Hudson, you're ride's here." I love to wake her up with a variety of calls.
It took her some minutes to get her hand over the bed for blood glucose testing but once that was done she was up 'n at'em. Bathing was a breeze. We joked a bit, as usual, about my "obsession" with looking at her pee when she rises for me to wash her torso and back.
As I was finishing off the bacon, cutting into the perfectly baked loaf of bread machine bread and slipping it in the toaster I mentioned that I thought today would be a good day for a short walkering jaunt. "I've got to go to New Frontiers, Mom. You need some more aloe vera gel, we could use some more Peach Detox tea, it's probably the store where I'll find vital gluten for the wheat bread and we could pick up a potato for the potato bread you want to try. It'll be a short trip, it's a small store. I think it might be a good trip for a little walkering, today. How does that sound?"
Ooooh...should'a', could'a', would'a'...she gave me that "Watch you're mouth, girl" look and said, curtly, "We'll see..."
I let my voice vanish into dead air. Give her some time to ponder it, I thought.
Maybe 10 minutes later she said, "You know that TV show you've been watching lately at night?" Her voice was gruff. Her chin jutted toward the side window. She was avoiding eye contact with me.
I know this woman through and through, so I knew which one she meant, especially since she referred to it as the show I'd been insisting on "watching lately". I could see the storm gathering so I decided to play it light and innocent, even though I knew what was coming. "Deadwood, right?"
"Yes. I don't like that show. I don't want to watch it anymore."
I was partly amused and partly irritated. I decided to play irritated for her. "Really! Well, that's news, seeing as how a week ago you couldn't get enough of it, had me running all over town trying to find someplace where I could rent the first season, asked me to order it, which I did, and made me write down when the last episode was going to show so we wouldn't miss it."
"I guess I didn't know what I was doing."
Bad Mood City appeared to be approaching. I let it go, sort of. I couldn't resist, "Well, it's on it's way. It should be delivered tomorrow. So, I guess I'll see if I can return it or sell it to [the video store here that buys videos from customers]."
"Good."
We settled back into silence. I served breakfast. While we were eating I mentioned, "Damn, there's nothing that tastes quite like fresh bread. I wonder what it is...the yeast, maybe, or the lack of chemicals..."
"I don't care for it," she said, chewing on a hunk.
"Hmmm...that's interesting. Yesterday you tried to get me to make the wheat bread recipe without the gluten because you didn't think you could wait until today for it."
"I was probably talking off the top of my head."
"So, you're saying, you prefer store bought bread?"
"That's right."
We'd hit Second Street in Bad Mood City.
"Okay. No more fresh bread. No problem."
Mom fished for the bread recipe booklet and hid between the pages. After a few minutes she looked back out the dinette window and said (not asked, mind you), in a sour voice, "Can you tell me why I bought this house?"
At that point I had to laugh. So, I did. "Mom," I said, "you're in a bad mood. Yes, I can tell you why you bought this house, but the only time you ask that question is when you're in a bad mood and you don't like anything, including the house, and you're trying to manufacture an opening so you can tell me how much you hate the house and whatever else has gotten your goat!"
She looked down at the table and turned another page in the booklet. "Well," she said, implying the opposite, "maybe you're right."
"Okay," I said, "I know what the problem is. You don't want to do any walkering today."
Her head swiveled toward me in surprise. "No, I don't. But that doesn't have anything to do..."
"Yeah, Mom, it does. Don't worry. I've got the message. And I've read it. You don't have to go to the store with me today. We'll do your hair and I'll go to the store while it's drying."
She relaxed and took another bite of toast. "Good. Today just isn't the day for it."
I chuckled. "No, I can see that."
She took another bite of toast. "Good bread," she said. "Didn't you say you're making another loaf this afternoon?"
So, my guess is, if I tread lightly, we won't be selling the first season of Deadwood, either. Nor the house. And, we won't be doing any walkering soon.
Later today I mentioned that I thought we should at least do another round of exercises.
She made a face but agreed.
"Maybe you need to work up to walkering again, you think?"
She nodded.
"Not a problem." And, it isn't. Better, at this point, to let her decide what she wants to negotiate.
Later.
