Well, To Be Honest, It Looks Like Poo

 I bought my mom some new pajamas and decided to order the same pair for myself.  Twins!

I spelled "dearbereth" because that is what Aubrey calls me.

It was nice to play with scrabble tiles with my mom one Sunday afternoon.   She usually doesn't stay focused for long.  A lot of times she is on the move.  It is like her mind does not allow her body to slow down.  She will be wheeling from room to room shuffling/moving things around.  It usually doesn't make sense to anyone but her.  The pillows will get put in a big pile on the ottoman.  The papers on the table will get put in a bathroom cabinet.  She will take things out of the pantry and move them to a different room.  My dad is really patient and understanding. He lets her do whatever she would like as long as she is safe.  He quietly says, "It is her house.  She should be able to move things around if she wants to."   

Last week she was frantically moving things to the backyard.  There were plumbers there using loud machinery, and my dad/the caregiver thinks she thought the house was going to explode.   I was on a walk and when I put Buttercup in their backyard, I noticed this pile by the back gate: a poinsettia, a picture of Nate and Beth, the knitted dolls of Nate and Beth, a little peacock and her meds.  I think eventually Julie was able to redirect her attention.

But back to Scrabble...it was really nice that she was able to sit still for about 20 minutes and play with the tiles.  When I can convince her sit for a few minutes, I feel like it is such a victory.  I know she has to be exhausted from being in constant motion for hours and hours.

Also, for the most part, what my mom says doesn't make sense.  She is almost always saying something but mostly her words come out as gibberish.  

Anyway, maybe once or twice a week, when I am with her, she can communicate a sentence or two that I understand.  

Well, I LOVED the short conversation we had about dinner.  (Several fresh sides are prepared along with a "Complete" microwave meal for lunch and dinner...inserting this so I will remember that this was not her full meal.)

I asked her if she was ready for a bite.  She looked at what I was offering, sighed, and quietly stated, "Well, to be honest, it looks like poo."  I about lost it!  She had a point!

I sure love my sweet momma.  This disease isn't easy, but I am so grateful for the love we can still share with each other.