Where to start?
I don't know what's wrong with me at the moment, I seem to have lost my mojo slightly. I'm a bit off kilter.
Expecting the worst on Saturday night with the extra tiddlypops he proved me wrong and was absolutely delightful. The girls were super behaved aswell, which really did help. Biggey was at a sleepover, so I decided to let Middley have a night of watching films with me whilst the other three were in littlie's bedroom. At 12.20pm whilst Middley and I were watching "ParaNorman" (can I just say, it was absolutely brilliant and would cheerfully watch it again) the phone rang. Oh, my, God. Who rings at that time of night? Middley answered the phone before I could get to it, and didn't know who it was - slightly sick feeling in my tummy raising... I said hello only for it to be hubby on the other end of the line. "Could you go and turn the telly down in Littlie's room, because if I have to do it, it means getting up, getting dressed and going into a room with other girls and I can't be arsed". I had thought somebody had died. Phew. It did make me smile though, so I traipsed up the stairs to oblige.
Sunday morning I was awoken with a prod to my ribs... I didn't have a clue what time it was, but then neither did he. The reason for this is because there was no electric. "I suggest you get up, get dressed and go down to the shops to buy some credit for the electric. You never have any electric on the meter (which is not true, otherwise nothing in the house would work), I don't know where you waste your money, you never organise yourself properly, you are useless, blah, blah, blah". I came downstairs at it was just after 7am. The reason there was no electric was not my fault. There was a powercut, but I didn't know this, nor did the energy people who were sending an engineer to the house because he is "vulnerable" with being registered disabled. I was out fiddling about with my Honeysuckle plant when I asked our neighbour if they had electric, and no they didn't. Bugger. Back onto the phone to cancel the engineer. Bang goes the making pancakes for the tiddlypops breakfast, and toast for that matter, but they did have bread and chocolate spread (no @WanderingKirsty, there was no cheese - that, I'm leaving for another day lol). I did a silent "nah, nah, nah, nah, nah - you weeerrrre wroooonnngggg" song in my head. No electic meant that when he did get up there would be no way of boiling water for his coffee... huge sigh. Coffee and his meds is what makes him almost liveable with. God bless next door for providing him with this. (Note to self - a gas cooker will be the purchase of choice next time round).
He had told me the night before that we would go and see my dad on Sunday. WOW - you could have knocked me down with a feather. We never do anything that revolves around me or my family. I nearly had a heart attack when he said he'd buy a Chinese for dad's tea - again... is there something wrong with him? Why is he being nice?... This is where it goes a bit belly up... "We'll get to your dad's at 2pm" said he the night before. At 1.30pm he decided to ring his friend to say he wouldn't be going to his house that afternoon. Then he rang his dad (fair does, it's Father's day), then it was a case of taking some lunch out of the freezer to take with us because I couldn't cook it at our house due to a lack of electricity. At 2pmish he decides he should get ready for the drive. The drive that takes over an hour. This lack of being bothered about the time just continues. Now I haven't been in the car with him for a while, and the last time I was I wasn't concerned. I'm normally asleep ten mins into a long journey when I'm a passenger. Not this day... If we're going to hit something I want to see it coming (maybe that's the wrong attitude - maybe sleep would be the better option, I'll think on that one). I don't know if he was doing it on purpose or if it's genuine, but dear God. We went round corners screetching. There was a time I thought he was going to cowp the car. He seemed to be speeding up when he should have been thinking of slowing down and vice versa - like I said the other day, he's in a cantankerous fettle with me at the moment, so I'm not sure if this was deliberate but I'm going to have to keep a close eye on him because if it's genuine then I'm concerned - and if that's the case, I'm snookered because he had to fight to get his licence and before he got it back there was talk about ending it all because of not having it. No stress there then...
Down at my dad's he was lovely, which is usual because there are other people to put on a show for. Now then. My mother and sister came over. I love my mother dearly, but bugger me she can rankle me. She can ruffle my feathers without even trying. "Constantly Trying - I like your eyeshadow today, but oh you look tired and pale, why's that?". Why can't she just say something nice and not finish it off with removing the compliment? Better still, not mention anything at all infront of husband, children, brother and girlfriend, my dad and my sister. I am knackered. I do put makeup on to try and conceal it but why start a conversation where hubby can turn around and say "I don't know why she looks tired - it's not like she does anything to warrant it". GRRRR.
Mum, me, the girls and my sister went to pick up the Chinese take-away. This was lovely. Until I got back into the car with the food and she tried insisting that you ate the Prawn Crackers on the way home with the tea. NO - you don't. Yes you do. "What do you think Middley, you think we should have some don't you?" "No mum. You can wait until we get home before you have some". Huff ensued. "What Constantly Trying wants, Constantly Trying gets - I don't want any now." No mum. What Constantly Trying wants, Constantly Trying doesn't get. Of all the people that I would have thought would know that, I had thought it would be her. Hubby doesn't like things like double dipping (y'know, when you use a crisp twice in a dip - think of the germs etc, etc). He doesn't like people helping themselves to food off other people's plates. "If you want some, put it on a plate and have some, just don't pick at other people's meals". I agree with this. The fact that hubby had bought this food for all of us and was a treat for my dad really, really rankled me. Dear God, it was less than a ten minute drive till we got home to have some. Out of the whole weekend, this is what has niggled me the most. I do not get what I want, and for her to think this in such a churlish manner just pissed me off big style (sorry).
The prawn crackers were not eaten and I brought them home because dad doesn't like them. We had them with tea tonight and they were lovely (said in a slightly churlish manner...).
The other thing (yes, I know, I'm boring you - sorry) was a white envelope with my name on for my dad to give to me when hubby wasn't about. I waited until I got home only to find the contents of which were a learning report on how to treat people with dementia. FFS. He's not in a home. I actually stopped reading it because it was making me more and more angry. I am his wife. Yes I am his carer, but I am his wife. I felt offended by some of what was staring at me in black and white. I felt patronised (so I don't know how the carers who are being trained with this report feel like). The patient (of course they are a patient to carers, that wasn't what irritated me) blah, blah, blah. They might this, they might that. I just felt like "they" were cattle. "Remember to be cheerful. Remember not to patronise, remember that even if you've heard this story before to the patient it's the first time they've told you...". Why did my mother give me this? I haven't even asked. I mean, it might get more interesting when I've calmed down enough to read the rest of it. It might be all singing amd all dancing, but hubby sat at the kitchen table looking over my shoulder whilst I was looking at it, because you can't hide anything from him and why should I, asking which level I thought he was at going by the stages that are described in this sodding pamphlet - just had me seeing red. Also "Why would your mother give you this? You must have asked for it for her to give you it" really did not make for a calm evening. Seriously - for someone who works within this illness writing guidelines etc (fortunately this was not one of hers because I would have offended her if I told her what I think of it, and still will when I do) you'd think that she'd think about the outcomes of scenarios and the ensuing aggrevation that can come from it, hubby's and mine.
Anyhoo - that brings us up to today. Today he was going to his friend's house. They were going out. He couldn't remember where they were going when they went out, and I still don't know now, because he doesn't need to tell me "You're not my mother". So he came home in time for tea. Went outside to speak to our neighbour (God bless him because he's a star) and the next thing I know they're away to look at a sit on lawn mower for his sister. "It's only £400". His sister knows nothing about him going to look at this lawnmower, and whether or not she wants it is another thing. "She might not have £400 to spend on a lawnmower hubby". "It's a good price, she can borrow the money of mum and dad" was his response and off he goes. Monday night is Theater Group night and I go along just to get out of the house. He natters to our neighbour whilst I'm away with Littlie, so the other two girlies are fine as there's always someone else here. So when he wasn't back I sent Biggey down with Littley because I don't like leaving any of them at home on their own. Middley then went out to play for hubby to come back and ask "why do you have your face on" (my makeup makeup - to conceal the fact I look knackered all the time). I explained why only for him to say "why didn't you remind me?". I just smiled. It wouldn't have made a difference anyway - he'd have still gone. Now hubby thinks rather than having a new sit on lawnmower (I forgot to mention that the one he was going to look at had already been sold, probably to a huge sigh of relief from his sister that doesn't know he was away to get it for her), she would be better off with a tractor. Bloody hell Hubby. It's one thing spending our money (which he does), it's another someone else's. He came inside to have his tea at about 9.30pm, only for him to put his laptop on. What was he looking at? Tractors on ebay. They're only about £2,500. Jesus.
I constantly feel that I'm trying to juggle with too many balls. No matter what I do, I'm dropping at least one of them. I don't feel like I'm giving enough attention to anyone and that everyone suffers for it. I'm feeling a bit of a failure at the moment, which is only compounded when hubby rams that comment down my throat. I worry about him, I worry about the girls, I worry about having no money, I worry about paying bills, having shopping and all of the other essentials. I'm not on about luxuries (I can't even remember what they are now) and I just feel stretched to full capacity, and obviously I'm not because I just feel like things are going downhill at the moment. He's forgetting more and more, and to be honest, Dementia really affected his behaviour and moods because the Arricept seemed to sort out his forgetfulness, but now his memory is going downhill (which is to be expected I know), but more and more balls just seem to get added and the more I try, the more I seem to fail. And I'm going to be completely selfish here (and yes I know you shouldn't start a sentence with an "and"), the thing that annoys me the most about this illness? The fact that the stress I constantly feel under is not reducing my waistline. Everybody else I know who has an inkling of stress drops weight in a couple of days - not me. I wouldn't care, our shopping is bog standard basic with very few thrills in it and I still resemble a whale that has been beached (thank God Greenpeace don't come this far North). This is the thing that annoys me the most. So I'm going to go and have a small vodka and diet coke. If I remember rightly there's only 55 calories in a measure of vodka, and that is less than a bag of crisps.