This weekend LK had a couple of her dance friends over to play after dancing at the Main Street Festival. As they were playing together, GranGran made an inappropriate comment about one of LK’s friends. LK then said, “That is racist, please don’t say that about my friends.” One of the other little girls then says, “What is a racist?” It almost took my breath away. In a world where we are currently focused on the “black lives matter” movement, I had started to feel like we were going backwards in the race relations movement.

You see, I grew up in a very segregated area/time. Nobody really “claimed it”, but let me tell you, nothing stirred up a round of gossip like a white girl being seen around town with a black boy. Other races weren’t even part of the conversation because there weren’t any of those kind of folks in our parts. Hispanic workers hadn’t yet infiltrated the Western KY workforce when I was growing up. I don’t know that I saw an Indian (country, not reserve) until I was in college, and the only Asians I knew were 2 little girls adopted from China. We were very, very, White. And, ask anybody around you, they were proud of it. I still vividly remember after I had moved to Nashville, the first time an African American male asked me out on a date, I honestly didn’t know what to say. It was the first time I had to make a decision for myself what I felt about it. And, unfortunately, the thought went through my head of having to call my mom and tell her I went out on a date with someone that wasn’t white. And, I knew her response would be, “Honey, be careful, you know you’re setting yourself up to be unequally yoked.” You see, we like to twist the Bible around to justify our ignorance. My momma was one of the kindest, most gentle hearted women you would ever meet. She truly believed what had been taught her. I can assuredly tell you, that the Bible wasn’t talking about people with different skin color being unequally yoked…

One of the most beautiful things that happened in our family was my sister adopting a child from Guatemala. She for sure wasn’t white. And, we love her so very deeply. Because of her dark skin, and us being around her, I chose to educate my kids early on racism and ignorance they may encounter. I still remember the look on LK’s face as I was explaining, there was a difference in their skin color as they were differently nationalities. She kept comparing the skin on their arms and said, “What do you mean she isn’t white like me?” It was beautiful and scary all at the same time. All that is a long story to say even in my own personal family, things have come a long way. And, I felt it was necessary for my kids to know what racism was because they do have friends and family of many races. And, our livelihood depends on Hispanic labor. You want to talk about racism that is alive and well, start talking about all the Hispanics in our area. And, everyone automatically assumes they are illegal monsters here for the sole purpose of taking our jobs. I’ll stay off that soapbox for another day.

But, it isn’t uncommon for the kids in our area to not know what a racist is…. One thing about the area we live in is that we love well. We still live in a predominantly white area, but our kids look into the soul of another person instead of looking at their skin. Both of my kids “inner circle” of close friends include kids of multiple nationalities. So, yes, Black Lives Matter, but so do purple, green, yellow, white and brown. Contrary to what the news media is promoting, most of us aren’t raising little racist bigots. If my kid doesn’t like your kid, it is probably because your kid isn’t a very nice person. I would bet a limb on the fact it has absolutely nothing to do with the color of their skin. It’s a beautiful thing in the world we’re living in to have to explain to a child “What is a racist?” Not because you want them to be one, but because it isn’t even an issue in our daily lives.

Today is day 365 of Grandma living with us. Saying one year seems small for some reason. This adventure isn’t taken in giant lumps of time like years, it’s taken by day by day, and often minute by minute. There are days I feel like I deserve some sort of “You Did It” trophy, but I’m not one that’s big on participation trophies, and I am certainly not winning 1st place in any care giving contest, so forget the trophy and just give me a drink. Trust me, participation in this journey alone deserves a drink….

Here’s the highlight reel of our first year on this journey:

~Poop in the floor, lots and lots of poop in the floor, as it at least once a week. I have no idea why I didn’t think to plan for this. Oh yeah, because if I had thought about poop in my floor, THIS would not be happening.

~My routine, and my “me” time went to hell in a hand basket. I didn’t realize how good I had manipulated my routine and my stellar ability to carve out time for massages and me time until this past year. This is probably goal number 1 for the next year, get those back.

~Four stays in the hospital. I don’t know if she should have been in the hospital more before, or if she is truly getting physically worse. 3 heart attacks, broken ribs and vertebrae, and and internal GI bleed. And, I say once again, this woman has more lives than a cat.

~Misbehaving at restaurants. We’re pretty much to the point if we are eating out, Grandma just can’t go. She fusses and cusses, she throws food, she eats off other people’s plates, it’s just not pretty.

~Dementia has progressed, getting a little worse each day.

All in all, we have good days and bad days. Hard days and easy days. Right now if you asked me if I would do it all again knowing what I know now, I’d probably hesitate a little before answering. But honestly, I would have to. There are certain things in life we just do because we don’t have another choice. You own up to the responsibility before you and you just do the next right thing. Yes, it is hard as hell. Yes, I am absolutely going to loose my mind soon. But, it is just what we have to do. And, that I do not regret one bit.

As we enter the next year of this journey, I just ask that you pray for us. Pray for strength and endurance. Especially pray for my kids. I wish I could take that hardship off of them. I know it eats away at them on certain days. But, I also know the lessons they are learning along this journey are some of the most valuable lessons they will ever learn in life. Pray that I will keep my complaints and eye rolling to my self. My attitude isn’t exactly amazing. I know that is surprising to many of you, but the further down this road I walk, the worse my attitude gets. I have lots of “life isn’t fair moments”. I often feel trapped in my circumstances. But, I know God has me walking this road for a reason and only for a season. And, for now we carry on.

When my kids were “itty bittys”, I would always ask, “How in the world can the days be soooooo long and yet the years so short? I’m kinda reliving those moments right now. Several people have asked when I was going to post another blog, and I just didn’t know. Honestly, I have about 15 half written blog posts going. There have been so many things going on that I wanted to share, but for whatever reason time has escaped me, or I have simply felt like God was saying, “not that, not now”.  The days have been so long lately and I can’t seem to find my bed soon enough, yet the weeks have flown by in a blink.

I don’t even really know how to explain my days of late. I will say, I have constantly asked myself why am I so freaking tired, all the freaking time!?!?! It doesn’t matter how much I sleep, I can’t get enough “rest.” Unfortunately, there is a medical element in that for me. Long story, but hopefully test results on Monday will show that is heading in the right direction. But, a big part of that is just that I am always “on” always gauging. Gauging my kids academic progress, gauging their social development, gauging their behavior, gauging their Spiritual situation… I am always gauging Grandmother, are her feet swollen, is her memory worse, where did those bruises come from, is she having mini stokes, is she sleeping too much, is she sleeping too little, is her glucose level too high? Gauging my work- what do I need to do for my current clients, what do I need to do to generate new clients, what do I need to do to make myself better. You get the point, even at rest I am not resting…. And, it has worn me slap out. There is not a day on my calendar in the foreseeable future that I don’t have a “dot”, which means I have something going on every day….

I was talking with a friend not long ago about studying in Ruth. I could totally relate to what she was saying. We both felt like Ruth 1:20-21 applied directly to us: “Don’t call me Naomi (or Misty). Call me Bitter. The Strong One has dealt me a bitter blow.” And then in Ruth 2:6, “She went into the field and worked steadily from morning ’til now… Right now I feel I am stuck in Ruth Chapters 1 &2. Bitter at times, working the field, experiencing favor in many ways, but waiting for chapter 3 to come. Here is what I do know, my God is faithful. I have to share these’s words from my friend’s blog (www.beyondyogatn.com) ….

True to form, I used my mess to be the message for the November Fall Retreat. I opened with “The Valley of Dry Bones” from Ezekiel 37:11: “Our bones are dried up, our hope is gone, there is nothing left for us.” The gift of pruning was in the 13th verse, “When {not if} I open your graves and bring you up from them, I will put my Spirit in you and you will live…” But {be} encouraged. The valley was not the end of the message, because He is a grave-opening, bone-digging-up kind of Jesus.”

‘Did I even believe my own teaching?’

I closed the retreat with 1 Kings 17:1-7 “The Brook Dried Up”. “Sometime later, the brook dried up…” Below is the closing reading from the entire weekend:

“If you are here and you have been resting by a dried up brook or walking through the valley of dried up bones, God says to you He is not punishing you, but rather He is preparing you for greater things (Jeremiah 29:11). God was teaching Elijah, and perhaps, teaching us. I brought you by the brook to teach you to depend on Me and Me alone. Settle down! (Isaiah 30:15 MSG) And even though the brook is dry, I am never dry! I am a grave-robbing, water-walking God who reigns over every situation you will ever find yourself in. In fact, do not give up by the brook. Hold your head up, because God may {be} about to blow your mind. Just one chapter later, Elijah was not dry anymore (1 Kings 18). He was calling down fire, wiping out 900 prophets of Baal and Asherah, and out-running chariots (1 Kings 18). So rest in that! What can God do in your next chapter?”

Don’t get me wrong, I know how very blessed I am. But, there are days this life is just hard. And unfortunately, I often waller in my hard  and my bitter. Forgetting what God has promised. He is enough. He wants us to so richly abide in Him that we rest our dried up bones in Him…..

We went to KY over Spring Break because our dishwasher leaked Super Bowl Sunday and ruined my hardwood floors. Which meant, all the furniture in the downstairs of my house had to be moved out, old floors ripped up, and new floors put down. In typical fashion, I decided if we were going that far, we might as well do a total refresh on our 10 year old house. I love God’s sense of humor. I prayed for my refrigerator or dishwasher to leak for 3 years. Our carpet downstairs was nasty and needed to be replaced. We had several neighbors have issues and get new floors compliments of their home owner’s insurance. As would be par for our course, ours didn’t leak, so I replaced our carpet last April. Go figure, shortly after we do that, we can get new floors. So, yes, I ripped up carpet that was less than a year old to install hardwood…..

As the remodel is going down, me, Two Kids, A Dog, and Grandma went to KY. Jeff stayed home to work on the house. Still not sure who got the best deal. Grandma stayed with her sisters while the kids and I stayed with my dad and step mom. I quit calling to check in on Grandma, because I kept getting bad reports. And, her stay got cut short, because her sister just couldn’t handle her anymore. She had some pretty bad shenanigans that I won’t share here. But, let’s just say it’s a miracle she survived the week without being dropped off at the nursing home. And, of course on the way home Grandma asked if we could make some time soon to go to KY to visit her family. Two hours from leaving, she didn’t have a clue that she had been.

What are Grandma’s shenanigans these days? Well, it seems her bowel movements are her source of physical aggression these days. Dementia patients often act out physically when they get frustrated. Grandma isn’t strong enough for that, so she poops. No joke. If she is upset, she’ll use her poop to convey a message. One instance was her pooping in my bedroom floor because I let the toilet paper run out in her bedroom. Not even kidding. It was everywhere. I’ll spare you the details, but it was seven kinds of awful. I almost lost my marbles that day…. Jeff came home that night and put a keyed lock on our bedroom door. No more busting up in my bedroom in the middle of the night or pooping in my floor during the day. I am just going to share TMI, if this wasn’t already. Do you know how much I wish I could poop on command. It would simplify my days greatly, because those movements NEVER come at the most convenient time.

I will say that I have a super awesome story of God’s faithfulness coming. The story is a work in progress and one of the active participants is working on a guest blog post to share. But, if you don’t believe God is in the miracle and blessing business, you’ll just have to check this post out soon.

I’ll be the first to admit, when it comes to being a parent, I really hit the jackpot. Jeff and I had great jobs, we’d been married just over a year and a half, we decided it was time to start planning to have a baby, the next month I was pregnant. Nine months later we had a perfectly healthy beautiful baby girl. I decided I wanted to stay at home with her, we made that work. She was about 18 months old, we decided maybe it was time for another, a month into trying and bam, we’re pregnant. Nine months later we have a perfectly healthy baby boy. One of each, party over. Healthy pregnancies, healthy babies… Now I have 2 beautiful children (that’s personal opinion, but a vast majority confirm this on a regular basis), they’re both very smart (that’s confirmed thanks to standardized testing), they’re well behaved (at least their teachers tell me so, they tend to test that at home), they’re kind and compassionate (they’ve won awards proving this), and they love the Lord. I really couldn’t ask for any more….

There are days I look at these 2 wonders God gave me, and think, I am the most perfect parent in the world. I’ve done an awesome job. I keep them healthy, I’ve raised them right… And, then I realize I really had very, very little to do with any of that perfection. It was only by the grace of God that I hit this kiddo jackpot. He knew he had to give me perfect kids or I would totally screw them up and they’d be terrible members of society.

I’m not trying to brag on my parenting here, I’m just making the point, that I am richly blessed and would have to totally wreck the train to get to a “bad” point with my kids. But, even with these “picture perfect” kids, I still have tons of mom guilt. I don’t read with them 20 minutes a day, we don’t do family devotionals every night, I loose my temper and scream (I know you’re all very surprised by that), my house is a disaster 90% of the time, I don’t fix 3 well balanced meals a day, I don’t ______. Fill in the blank, whatever it is, I am constantly second guessing myself and holding myself to a crazy ridiculous standard. Why do we do this to ourselves as parents? Can we just let ourselves off the hook and agree that by the grace of God we are doing the very best we can?

My most recent mom guilt struggle is playing favorites with my kids. I love both my kids with every ounce of my heart. I’d kill myself before choosing a favorite between the two. Granted there are days….. but, that’s a whole other story. But, I’ll admit, to the rest of the world, it would easy to assume that Lexi Kate was my favorite. She commands triple the amount of my time that Sam does. I spend thousands on her dance each year, we have weekends away, we do lots of mother/daughter stuff. Honestly, I just get LK. She truly is my clone. We look the same, but more than that our personalities are the same. She is more outspoken, and commands more of my attention. Not to mention, the pure logistics of the amount of time she requires getting her where she needs to go and supervising her activities. She always has the next bright idea, something to do, somewhere to go. She’s almost a full time job. This weekend we were away at a dance competition staying at a very nice hotel and I just felt terrible laying in bed thinking about what Sam wasn’t getting from me.

But, I wonder is this something I really need to feel guilty about? I am 99.975% sure that Sam doesn’t feel slighted. Sam doesn’t command my attention that often. He has no desire to go and do all the special things LK wants to do. I guarantee I could ask him to have a special day with me and he’d want to go to Target, buy a toy, get an iTunes card, come home and play with said toy all of 15 minutes, then he’d want to go to his room by himself and play Legos, watch videos and chill. Going and doing something all day long, much less all weekend where he had to focus on “us” would be torture for him. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a lover and engaged in our family. He loves him some mommy snuggle time each morning. And, you just better be ready to be kissed on the lips, and tell him you love him 1000 times a day. But, he just doesn’t want much from you. He doesn’t need me to spend thousands on activities, because he’s happy just chilling at home. I’m constantly asking myself how can I parent Sam better, how can I love on him more. And, I come up empty. I don’t know what I’d do different. Maybe learn to play Minecraft with him…. But, I’m just not there. Otherwise, he just doesn’t need much.

This is a long rambling post, but the point is all mom’s feel guilty, no matter how good you seem to be doing. I constantly feel like a jack of all trades and master of none. I wish I could erase mom guilt from the world. No matter what a family looks like from the outside looking in, I guarantee they all have crap. You may not be able to see my crap, but trust me it piles up just like yours. You may sit at home and wish you could be like me, wish you had done it like I had, and had your kids turn out like mine. Don’t. Run your race. Pray for God to give  you grace for your journey. Your kids aren’t like mine, I’m not like you. We all just have to do the best we can and love on each other. Support each other, and realize we all feel like we are totally screwing up this momma gig.

In memory of the day my world turned totally upside down, I thought I’d write a post of how to love someone dealing with a grief they don’t understand. First of all, we all experience grief very differently, and there is no one way to expect people to go through the stages of grief.

In case you don’t know me, here’s a little background of my story. At 7:00am on February 11, 2014 I called my grandmother to wish her a Happy 80th Birthday. During the call she told me that mom hadn’t called or stopped by that morning to wish her a happy birthday. Knowing my mom, I knew something really wasn’t right, but I tried to brush it off. At 7:30am my mom called to tell me she had gone to the ER because the cold she’d had for 3 weeks was keeping her from breathing. She of course tried to convince me that she was really fine, but they were going to admit her to drain some fluid off and get her back in no time. Of course she insisted I didn’t come home. Of course, I didn’t listen to her. My gut told me there was much more to this. I threw some clothes in a bag and headed out the door, and made it to Mayfield in record time. One thing led to another and mom was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and viral cardiomyopathy. I took one look at the scans they were doing, and I knew she was in big trouble. I should have insisted at that moment she be transferred to a heart intensive hospital. I didn’t, and they assured me with a lasix drip she’d be fine. Fast forward to 2:00am the morning of February 12, 2014. I was “resting” in mom’s room when I noticed she was seizing and coding. I pushed the nurse button and went into the hallway screaming for help. Nothing like hearing a code blue over the hospital speakers, and knowing it is for your mom and there is nothing you can do to save her. As they were shocking her back to life and doing CPR, I just stood at the end of the bed begging God to save her. Within 30 minutes, she was back, wide awake, alert and talking. She even got up and went to the bathroom. A miracle. I thought we were in the clear….. for 2 hours until it happened again. And, once again, they were able to bring her back to life. At this point, I was pretty sure I would lose my mom. It’s just a gut feeling you have. But, I couldn’t focus on that. I just focused on those moments I had with my mom. Around 7:00 in the morning, she coded for the 3rd time. Paddles, injections and 45 minutes of CPR couldn’t bring her heart back. The electrical signals from the brain were full force telling her heart to work, she was fighting to survive, but she just couldn’t. It was the very worst thing I have ever witnessed in my life.

I went months without sleeping. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see in vivid detail what happened in the hospital that night. To this day I can still tell you exactly what every nurse and doctor that came into the room the entire night was wearing. I can see blood shooting all over the place and hear the sounds of her ribs breaking as they did CPR. Months of therapy got me to a place of accepting I had PTSD- post traumatic stress disorder. I wasn’t really eating, but I gained over 60 pounds, and my body wasn’t functioning. I mentally couldn’t process relationships. I had several friendships fall apart and my marriage struggled. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t get my shit together. And, if you know me, I’m a “I’ve got my shit very together kind of girl.” I was always the type of person who felt like you couldn’t control what happened to you, but you could control how you reacted to it. I’ve had several “crazy” life events, but I refused to let them make me crazy. And, honestly, I thought I could do that with my mom’s death. I wouldn’t be that crazy girl who lost her mom and fell apart. Except, I was. People asked me what they could do for me, how they could help, how they could love me, and I didn’t have a clue what to tell them. Now, that the fog is starting to settle, here’s a list of how I think you can love someone dealing with a grief they don’t understand.

1) Understand that it isn’t about YOU. This is especially hard for us “Southern Ladies” who like to “DO”. YOU need to bring the casserole, visit, send flowers, hug them and hold them. YOU want them to eat and be happy. They may need to lay in bed with a bowl of ice cream and wine. Don’t write them off if they just don’t feel like seeing anyone, hanging out, hugging, or being social. For me, all those things were things my mom taught me to love. And, doing them, even with people who loved me deeply, just hurt. So, I stayed home.

2) Accept the fact that they’re going to have some very unlovable moments. I did things and said things to the people that I love very most in this world that were very hurtful and painful. Not intentionally of course, but it was almost like the “misery loves company philosophy”…. Hurt people, hurt people. No way in my right mind would I have done and said some of the things I did, but I know they happened. I forgot special events of very special people. I could not spend Mother’s Day with my kids or my mother in law. I broke trust in some very important relationships. I had many, many very unlovable moments. I am thankful for some pretty strong family and friends who weathered the storm and loved me when I was unlovable.

3)Understand they can’t tell you what they need from you, because they don’t know. People kept asking me what I needed. I would say nothing because, honestly, I didn’t have a clue. If they had come in my house, they could have figured out some things pretty quickly, but I was in a daze. I didn’t know what I needed or wanted. Except, I both needed and wanted my momma back and I knew no one could do that for me.

4)Be there, even when they don’t seem to want you around. I told people not to come, and if they came, I am certain I acted like I didn’t want them there. But, I do know that as the numbness started to wear off, I was very lonely. I found myself wishing friends would come by or call, but I would never ask them to.

5)Let them check out for a minute- or a month- but always check in with them and be there when they’re ready to come back. This is very similar to some of the facts above. I know this is hard. But, again, it isn’t about you in this season of friendship. Your friend is grieving, let them write the play book. And, they’ll eventually need (and want) you again. Despite them being unlovable, and acting like they don’t want you to be around.

6)PTSD is very real, and very common for people who are grieving. I really didn’t understand this. I thought PTSD was something military people had, and I didn’t really understand what it was. But, I spent thousands of dollars at therapists and doctors, on running many different tests, and many different medications to realize that losing someone close to us, especially if we witness their death, triggers PTSD for many people experiencing grief.

7)If they’re on your mind, let them know. It’s probably because God knows they need to hear from a friend. Just shooting them a quick text, phone call, email, or dropping a card in the mail. Just, hey, you’re on my mind, you’re important to me, I’m thinking about you.

8)Let them know it’s okay for them not to have their crap together. Heck, maybe even scoop it up for them- but don’t tell them you did. This may not be as big a deal for some as it is for others. But, for us type A, OCD, control freak personalities— having our crap together is very important. And, when you’re in crisis you’re crap comes out your pants and goes all over the place. I had some friends that were fabulous at picking up the loose ends I left straggling all over the place. I had another friend that loved to remind me of all the things she fixed that I’d left hanging. Of course, in the nicest most southern girl way you’d expect to hear. “Hey, sweet girl, just wanted to let you know that you forgot to fix your kids lunch for the 7th day in a row. But, it’s no big deal. I’ve taken them a 5 course all organic meal to school each day and sat with them during their lunch period.” For the record, that isn’t a real scenario, but was about that petty. If something they would have normally taken care of, needs taken care of, just do it for them. And, no need to even mention it. There’ll come a point they realize someone else covered their ass, and they will be all the more grateful.

9)Understand that the death of a loved one probably isn’t the only relationship loss they’re grieving. Loved ones dying often changes multiple relationships. For example, in my situation, I was suddenly faced with a changing dynamic with my step-dad. He practically raised me, he and my mom were married when I was 2. Now, all of the sudden we had no “legal” bond. At first I told myself it was no big deal, things would be the same between us. He loved me, I loved him, all was good. But, things did change. He got all new friends, he even got a girlfriend. He totally changed as a person, starting a new life that he could feel comfortable in after losing his wife. So, I was grieving the loss of the identity of a person that was still living. It was weird, and it was hard. And, we don’t really know how to communicate those things. We realize this type of grieving and hurt sounds selfish and totally irrational, but we can’t really get over it either.

10)Accept the fact that we probably won’t ever be our normal old self again, and learn to love us as we are now. For me, it was a total culture change. What I had always thought was important became pretty irrelevant. We were finally “living the life”. After surviving the housing market crash with 2 incomes based on the housing industry, Jeff and I were finally “making it big time”. We had just come out of a year making the most money we’d ever made. And, pacing to make even more the year mom died. I had a plan in my head of what that was going to look like for a family. And, suddenly, I would have given every penny of it away. Actually, I did give a lot of it away, and completely wasted a good chunk. I forced myself to do “normal old self” things, and it made me miserable. What I expected out of life, out of people, and out of friendships really changed. I went from the 30 good friends model of life, to the 5 great friends. I just couldn’t emotionally keep up with tons of people anymore. There are lots of things I used to love to do, that I just can’t do anymore. I was always the “doer”/“giver” in the friendship, and I learned to be more of “taker” in a friendship. I don’t lean as heavily on people now, as I did last year. But, I still actually let people help me. And, I am less likely to volunteer to carry all of your load too. It’s okay. I’m not exactly the same person I was 2 years ago. I’m older, wiser, more grounded, and I certainly know what is important in life.

Losing people we love is hard. We know God is real, He is for us, He will walk along side us. But, it still sucks. Dreams and visions come crashing down in an instant. What we need most is those who are left around us to carry us through until we learn to walk again. And, if you happen to be a person in this stage of grief, please do a couple things for me: 1)Seek professional help. Trust me, you need it. 2)Surround yourself with a community that understands what you’re going through. I was blessed to have a support group of young women at church who recently lost a parent. And, had a couple really good girlfriends walking this road at the same time. I don’t wish this on anyone, but I know I wouldn’t have survived without those girls that knew what I was feeling. 3)Don’t turn away from everyone that loves you. It is so hard to let yourself be loved, but find a way to let at least a couple people in. We need it, and they want to give it.

How may I serve you today? First of all, let’s back up and tell you a little about me. I get up early, but I’m not particularly a jump out of bed and go morning person. Here’s how I need things to roll….. Alarm goes off at 5:00, I get up and stumble to Keurig, I start coffee, I let the dog out of her cage and take her outside, cold air jolts me awake, I come back in and doctor my coffee, I set down and drink my coffee, read my Bible Study, and start to become a human being. Interrupting this routine doesn’t usually go well for the perpetrator. If the routine is completed, I’m pretty good to go by 5:30-6:00. Whatever you need, I’m on it. Unless, I of course hit snooze 3 times and my routine has to be sped up.

Anyway, 3 mornings this week, as I am standing at the cabinet fixing coffee Grandma has rolled up in the kitchen wanting to know what we were fixing her for breakfast. I do not respond nicely. First morning’s response, “This ain’t the Ritz Carlton. If you want breakfast get to fixing it.” Which was met with, you’re standing right here, why can’t you just fix me breakfast while you’re fixing yours. Well, you see. I am not fixing me breakfast. I am fixing coffee. I will not be eating breakfast for another hour or so. I cannot dilute my coffee. It needs my body to be empty so it goes in full throttle.

The second morning, Jeff was in the kitchen. I didn’t even see her coming. And, out of no where I hear, “Are you fixing my breakfast.” Jeff responds, “Nope, but there’s your half loaf of bread to make toast.” Read the previous post about how much she eats to understand why he said there’s your half loaf. She looks at me, and I gave her, the don’t dare speak before I’ve had at least 10 sips…..

Today, we were asking for it. She ate all the bread yesterday, and I didn’t really have anything for her to fix for breakfast. Sure enough. We roll into the kitchen. Doing the coffee thing, she comes around the corner. “Jeff, what can I have for breakfast.” Daddy boy was on his game this morning. He was already making homemade biscuits. Only because we were out of bread, frozen biscuits, and canned biscuits.

After I come out of the shower, she says, “You’re so mean and hateful.” I hadn’t even said a word at this point. Granted, I probably didn’t speak to her while she was talking to me during coffee hour. I know I hollered at her when she walked in my bedroom this morning  as Jeff and Sam were getting dressed and I was getting ready to get in the shower. I conveniently forget those moments…. “What? Why am I mean?” You talk to me like I am a dog and tell me to fix my own food. You only let me have 2 pieces of bacon, and 2 biscuits. Well, technically based on your diet restrictions, I should let you have none. So, I’m 200% nicer than the doctor already…

In the afternoon, I come home before I pick the kids up from school. Partially, I need to unload my stuff. Mainly, because I want to make sure Gran hasn’t kicked the bucket and the kids walk in and find her. I have all kinds of messed up nightmares about that one. But, I digress…… I mean as soon as I walk in, she starts barking orders at me. Clean the kitchen, why is all that stuff on the kitchen table, what are you fixing for dinner, why did no one come to visit today, nobody even called me on the phone, hand me the phone and call Peggy’s number, something’s wrong with the dog, she’s been sad all day, I need more depends, I’ve been a mess today, get me some prunes, I haven’t been able to poop today. I straight up lie to her and tell her I have the runs too just so I can go to the bathroom and sit in peace and quiet until I run out and get the kids. The funny thing about her demanding I do laundry and clean the house, is that she leaves her lunch mess all over the freaking kitchen. It is baffling. If I sit a glass down for two seconds she is pouring it out and wiping the table it was sitting on. She leaves bowls of soup, plates, pots, whatever sitting out all over the place.

This afternoon, we came home from school, LK got dressed for dance, and I took Sam and his friend with us to dance. Quick side not funny story about that….. I don’t usually take Sam with me on Friday’s. But, since he had a friend, I didn’t want them staying home with Gran, and I hadn’t talked to Jeff to see when he’d be home. So, they went. At dance, there’s this little corner under the cafe bar where all the little boys always sit and play video games. I don’t know why they get under there, but they do. Dance was over, LK came out, I talked to a couple moms, and we walked out….. I totally forgot I had taken Sam and his friend to dance. They never go on Friday’s, so it didn’t even cross my mind again about him being there. Truly, out of sight, out of mind. Thankfully, it hit me before we got out of the parking lot. Whew! Can you imagine the other mom calling me later this evening asking when I was going to bring her son home. Because, for real, those boys would have sat in that corner until their iPads died. Which would have been after the studio closed. Hot mess….

Anyway, we all come home, and I delivered Sam’s friend to his mom before I forgot I had him again. LK runs up stairs to get ready for her friends’ talent show. I was wrapping flowers for her to take. No joke 17 times in 12 minutes she asked me when and what I was fixing her for dinner. Each time, I replied, I am going to fix something very soon, as soon as I get these flowers cleaned up out of the kitchen. As I am getting leftovers out of the fridge to fix us plates, I asked LK what she wanted first so she could be eating and finish getting ready. And, her comes Gran. “I told you, I’m hungry! Get in here and fix my dinner.” Yes ma’am. It’s your world, we’re just living in it. Happy to serve you. What is so freaking frustrating is you ask what she wants, and she always says, “I don’t know, just fix me something.” Or, “I’lll just have what you’re eating.” Nope, it’s leftover night. We all get something different. Pick your poison. Because, as soon as I fix my plate, you’re going to want that and I am going to be ticked.

I really wish I wasn’t getting so annoyed with her demands for service. But, I think it is the demands that are making me so angry. If you know me, you know, if you ask me nicely for something, chances are I am going to die trying to make it happen. But, the moment you tell me I have to do something, I lock up like a bird dog mid hunt. I will not move. I really wish I wasn’t like this, but just count it as one of my many faults, I don’t enjoy being Cinderella before she became Queen. And, there’s only room for one queen in this castle, and at the moment it doesn’t seem to be me.

I’ve found that I have started getting annoyed when Grandma asks me to do stuff for her. Maybe it’s because I’ve had a little more on my plate lately. In case you haven’t heard, I merged my real estate company with Benchmark Realty, LLC. In the long run, this will give me some more peace of mind. But, in the short term, there is a lot of stuff that just has to be taken care of. And, I’ve just been mentally over processing and making tons of checklists….

Anyway, yesterday was Grandma’s day. I didn’t go in to work. I just planned my day around taking care of some things for Grandma. Our first stop was a 9:00am cardiology appointment. For the most part, everything was perfect. It was her first, “improving” visit in months. They’re still curious as to why she can consume over 4000 calories in a day and not gain weight. She has been diagnosed as diabetic, but honestly with a few diet moderations, we’ve got those numbers more in line. She isn’t on insulin at this point. But, she eats a TON of food. For example, an average breakfast is 4 pieces of toast with butter and jelly, a bowl of cereal, and bacon/sausage/eggs. But, good news is her ticker is improving and we don’t have to go back to see her heart failure specialist or electrophysiologist for 6 months.

After those appointments it was lunch time. Remember I said Grandma likes to eat. Well, we’ve been avoiding processed foods, and especially fast food. When I told her I’d take her to Hardee’s to get a hamburger you would have thought I told her Ed McMahon and the Publisher’s Clearing house crew stopped by. She was ecstatic. This one stop alone probably bought me more “screw up” forgiveness points than anything I’ve done in the last 9 months.

After tickling her tummy, I took her to get her hair did. Let’s just say her hair is a hot mess! Since her last heart attack, something has gone bad wrong on her head. Between the hair cut and style, lip, brow, and chin wax, she was ready for the Mrs. America pageant. She kept telling everyone how pretty she looked. She thought she needed to go out dancing.

Well, instead of dancing let’s go to the podiatrist. It’s about foot work, but maybe not as much fun. This woman has some nasty feet. For the love, if Lexi Kate doesn’t take me for weekly pedicures when my feet start getting old and nasty, I will haunt her butt. Never mind a pedicure, just chop my feet off. I know I am going to have her feet, because my feet already aren’t awesome. But, I work hard to keep them from not scaring away the world, because I will be wearing flip flops at least 8 months out of the year.

By the time we finished this it was time to go home and get the kids. Grandma was pooped. I wasn’t in great shape myself. She really was much better behaved than normal.  think a lot of that was just needing to get out of the house. It has been so nasty lately, she hasn’t been able to get out. And, like my other 2 kids, she really prefers to be the only child. So, when she has me all to herself, she is much happier.

Grandma ate her dinner and went to bed. I went to work for the first time of the day. The one thing I am most grateful for about my career is the flexibility to work around my family’s needs.

I’m racking my brain for a funny story to share, but I don’t think we’ve had a good one lately. So sad, because I know that is the only reason the 3 of you read this blog. Lexi Kate starts her competition dance season next week. That adds a whole new level of excitement to our lives. Don’t expect a ton of blogging about Grandma the next few weeks, we’re just trying to keep the wheels on the ground around here.

Not much is new around here in terms of Grandma or the kids. But, what is new for me, is opening myself up to time with people who care about me and invest in me. I’ve got more than a little bit going on. Not to mention a full time job, a couple kids, a husband, and a dog to take care of. But, one thing I’ve been learning in this season of life is that I need people, and sometimes people need me. And, people are better than work every day.

My birthday was this past weekend. It was cold and snowy, and my kids were out of school 3 days the week before. And, I got nothing checked off my list I needed to check off, my house was a mess, and I was falling farther behind at work. Did I mention that I hate cold weather. I’m seriously not even a real big fan of pretty snow. Don’t hate me, but I don’t care if I never have another sledding day with my family. I’ll make memories at the beach every day of the year. Cold/snow… just not my thing. My kids now sound like barking seals, and in the back of my head I am sure they are dying of pneumonia. And, it ruined my birthday. Everyone asked how my birthday was, I said fine or good. That was a lie. It truly sucked. I didn’t get to go out with friends Friday night. I laid in bed and cried and felt sorry for myself all day Saturday. We didn’t go to Adelle’s as planned for dinner. People I thought would call or text to say happy birthday didn’t. I just wasn’t a happy camper. I threw myself a big ole pity party, and if you know me, you know I throw a mean party. I better get a redo on my birthday. Not sure when that will be, but it needs to happen.

So anyway, that was a tangent. Back to the point of needing people. It’s only Wednesday, but already this week, I’ve spent hours with 2 different friends just catching up and chatting. And, you know what, it was the best! Normally, there is no way in the world I would just “waste” a couple hours in the middle of a very busy week to talk life with my friends. But, my soul needed it. And, the crazy thing is, I am no further behind now than I was when I got started Monday morning. Sometimes, we just have to let ourselves stop and invest in people. Invest in friendships, invest in love. I know I am so very thankful these friends stopped part of their day to invest in me.

Will you do me a favor? The next time someone comes to mind, take an unexpected break. Take 5 minutes to call them on the phone. If you only have 30 seconds shoot them a text. If you feel like God is telling you to do more, just do it. Maybe they need flowers. Maybe they’re struggling and need a Kroger gift card. Maybe you need to deliver a devotional, or a bottle of wine. Maybe you need to take them out to lunch. But, don’t ignore those moments that God is trying to work through you to encourage one of His precious children.

We’re back from vacation, Jeff and I are trying to get caught up at work, the kids are back in school, and our normal reality is sinking back in. As we face a new year and new resolutions, we’ve been fervently praying about the best way to “do this life”. There are several options, none necessarily right or wrong, just a matter of good, great, best. With that, we’ll be making some significant changes over the next few weeks and months, and we’d greatly appreciate you praying us through.

As I mentioned in my last post, GranGrand did great at her 12 days of Assisted Living. She wasn’t too happy about going. But, she didn’t get kicked out. And, she even talked fondly about it when we got home. That was such a huge answer to prayer! One of the things we’re praying we can make happen is taking advantage of the adult day care program they have there. In the next month or so, we’ll be doing one day a week, working up to 2 days a week. And, as we pray, that God will financially provide that may she can do a respite care stay one week of every month. I honestly have no idea how we can afford to make that happen. But, I know it is something we have to work out. The adult day care is $75 a day; overnight care is $185 a day. Do the math….

A huge item of prayer for us is Gran’s progression over the last couple months. Her dementia has gotten much worse. She is starting to lose her long term memory. We went to a funeral just after Christmas, and she didn’t recognize some of her family members. We’ve also started to notice in conversations, she doesn’t tell the stories she used to tell about the past. She can’t remember my mom’s name often. She doesn’t remember that Jeff knew my mom. She knows she hasn’t always lived here, but can’t seem to remember where she grew up. We knew the memories would all go. What has us greatly concerned is she is getting more violent. Again, a very natural symptom of dementia. But, I have 2 small kids so it concerns me. Grandmother really just doesn’t like Lexi Kate. The feeling is mutual, which doesn’t help matters. But, Gran acts out towards Lexi. We’re still at a manageable point. But, we are certainly monitoring it heavily. On Saturday, Lexi Kate answered a question, and Gran raised her hand and said “I’m going to smack the shit out of you.” Totally unprovoked. And, LK didn’t offer a hateful response. That turned into a battle and a half as Gran didn’t understand why she was being punished. She kept saying, but I was kidding, I’d never hit the kids. Well, you can’t say it either. And, you can’t raise your hand like you’re going to…. Sunday, Gran randomly started yelling at LK for not answering her questions. Problem is, Gran never said anything out loud. Again this morning, Gran raised her hand and threatened to slap Lexi, because Lexi told her she couldn’t eat Cocoa Puffs because she was diabetic. LK wasn’t being hateful. Gran just asked her to fix a bowl, and she told her she couldn’t have them. So, obviously, that weighs on us. Even if Gran managed to slap one of the kids, she has so little balance and strength I don’t think she could hurt them physically. But, the emotional impact of that is something I’m not even willing to endure. Needless to say, anything that can be used as weapon is out of reach for GranGran. And, we just pray daily for God’s protection on everyone in the situation.

I still don’t doubt for one second that this is God’s plan for our lives. Even knowing how hard it has been, I’d do it again. But, we are reaching those days where I step out of my Pollyanna mentality and start thinking, “Holy, Crap! We just can’t do this anymore!” I hate being a quitter. But, I also realize all things in life are for a season. And, as much as I want to be Super Woman, God hasn’t gifted me with all talents. And, caring for someone with severe dementia isn’t a gift I have. We are doing what we’re doing because we have to. But, I’ll be honest, it’s a game day decision at this point. Pray for me. Pray that my stubborn, won’t quit attitude will step out of the way. Pray that we’ll know when this party is over. Pray that we’ll party with grace until that point. Pray that we will remain faithful to our call. Pray that we love well until the very last day and not allow bitterness and anger to set in. And, honestly, pray for my Grandmother. She is suffering inside a broken body. She isn’t well physically or mentality and she is just trapped. Pray she’ll have some sense of peace. Not trying to sound harsh, but we’re at a point where death most certainly isn’t the worst thing that could happen to her.

Again, many changes are coming in Woodford land over the next several weeks and months. Pray with us that we are clear on God’s calling and follow it faithfully. We’ll reveal what’s going on as they come about.