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11:35 a.m. - 2011-07-14
Like mother like daughter....God help us.

Ick. There's a conspiracy of grime. Everything in my house, including the walls, floors and windows has ganged together for an orgy of filth.

Okay, maybe not an orgy, but it's definitely a group endeavor. It seems like all of a sudden everything is spotty, greasy, dusty, and nasty to the touch. I've already started in the kitchen. Gave Black Beauty a good scrub. The Fly Lady starts with the kitchen sink, I start with my stove. It's ground zero for any and all cleaning.


GAHHH!!!!!!!! Just got off the phone with MIL. The woman makes me crazy. She's all like, "Blah, blah, blah, how's Wolf's work-study? Blah, blah, Liz's baby shower. Blah, blah. Oh, by the way I broke my foot."

On…TUESDAY.

And today is?

Right? She breaks her goddamn foot in a gopher hole in the yard, uses a lawn chair as a walker to gimp back inside, waits a couple hours, THEN calls an ambulance. Not us. No, not us. Goes to the hospital on her own with Dementia Boy (FIL) in tow. Gets x-rayed, gets the bone set, gets a temporary cast, goes home by taxi. Then yesterday she calls another taxi to take her to the orthopedist to have the real cast put on. Stops by the home health aid store, chooses some crutches and a walker, brings them home, and assembles them herself. Uses the walker to go out on the back deck, DOWN THE STAIRS, and goes gimping around the backyard to chlorine the pool and feed her pet bunny. While she's out there she also fills the bird bath, waters the garden, and tidies the storage shed. You know, because she was out there already so it wasn't really a problem. Uh huh.

Today she finally calls me and it's not even the first thing on the agenda. Oh yeah, MIL, no biggie. You have a BROKEN FOOT. Ho hum. Did you catch 'Idol' last night?

What on earth is this woman thinking?

To make it all the more outrageous her biggest beef with her own mother was Gram's 'stubbornness'. Always tried to do things on her own, sometimes with disastrous results. Basically Gram is dead because she insisted on doing everything herself. Refused to let us help, refused to let us clean or shop or make the apartment safer. So. There was 94 year old Gram- deaf, mostly blind, could hardly walk and BAM! Tripped over something and down she went. A greenstick fracture of the femur. Gram fought off every single bit of help she could. Refused to have it fixed properly. Refused to work with the PT therapist. Refused to use a wheelchair. Refused, refused, refused. Then when it became obvious to even Gram that she was going to have to live with MIL or move to a nursing home, Gram refused to accept her diminished physical capacity, preferring instead to actually DIE rather than let the people who loved her take care of her. Willed herself to death. Just gave it up and DIED because she'd rather be dead than accept some help.

When I pointed out to MIL that she was being JUST LIKE Grammy, MIL went foamy at the mouth and furiously denied she was anything like her mom. Nope, MIL wasn't being 'stubborn' like Gram used to be. Oh no, no, no! She was being considerate. Didn't want to be a bother. Huge, huge difference! Didn't I understand that?

Nope.

Lovingly, but thoroughly I read my darling MIL the riot act. This was complete bullshit and absolutely unacceptable behavior. If she loves us at all she'll stop being 'considerate' and pull her head out of her ass.

She won't. Right through the phone I heard the thrust out lower lip, I saw her "la la la I can't hear you" expression. She blew right past the fear and anger and obvious love I have for her and insisted she was fine. Didn't want or need any help. Just like her mother.

GAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!


If you need me I'll be here for another hour or so beating my head against a wall. Practice for when I go over MIL's this afternoon. ~LA

4 Wanna talk about it!

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