Crabby

I hate being crabby and tired and short-fused once a month. Really, really tired of it. Last night, I was actually asleep before Audrey was (she is often up past 9:00pm in her room "reading" books). I just hope my kids don't remember the crabby mommy, and only remember the un-crabby mommy. (I don't remember my own Mom being crabby, so I am hopeful my kids won't remember either).

Some months are worse than others, some months I don't even notice. Maybe it is getting worse with age, who knows. All I know it sucks.

What else sucks? A Grandmother who is dying and doesn't know anyone anymore because of Alzheimer's. She's young for a Grandmother of a thirty something (late 70s), but unfortunately she has smoked a carton of cigarettes a day for most of her life. I remember her lighting a cigarette with her last cigarette. But I also remember countless days spent at her house, playing in her yard, helping her with chores. She lived next door to us when my brother and I were little, so we spent a great deal of time there in the summer and before and after school. I remember bologna, cheese, mustard and ketchup sandwiches, I remember playing charades with her on her front porch. I remember telling her I wasn't a "tomboy", I was a "tomgirl".

She has been in and out of the hospital and a nursing home the past few weeks. Ray and I actually visited with her when we were in Virginia over Christmas in the nursing home. She didn't know who we were, but she thought I looked like someone she knew.

My Mom has been helping out as much as she can, but now Grandma isn't recognizing anyone, not even my Grandfather. My Stepdad has spent countless hours in the hospital with her as well. I don't know the progression of Alzheimer's, and honestly, I don't want to know. I hope she still has some good days left in her.