10 Lessons for the week

This week several things have been realised if not learnt.

Firstly my hair unless ‘marginally’ blow dried will resemble crystal tips on meth. And any rain of any variety only makes it worse.

Secondly I have realised that those grey/white babies around my head look like pubes if not a halo of fluff. I have counted 3 this week. I refuse to dye the bastard hair as it grows too quickly and frankly when it comes to hair, apart from the blow situation, I am a lazy bitch.

Thirdly I have learnt that dad is the master of Chinese whispers. So far this week I have been told that someone had died when this was not the case, that people were sleeping in the streets in Lisbon when they were simply taxi drivers striking and that lastly if it wasn’t for his current lady friend he would be unable to get dressed each day. I guess the last is more bullshit than whisper but you get the idea.

Fourth. Dad is loosing his eye sight. This week he has attempted to enter my car, in broad daylight, through the bonet! Last week he attempted my sons’ boot. It’s a shitter.

Fifth. My heart feels a little low and empty as the eldest has gone off to uni. The house is too quiet. We have spoken and texted but we have a very special bond which happened many years ago when he stopped talking for a year. I can’t tell you why but I can tell a thousand things by looking at his eyes and face and the phone and text has removed this. I can tell when he needs a drink. When he needs to get out of a situation. When he needs to talk. I also don’t really like seeing his room with the door open and no one there and it looking so tidy (I cleaned it straight away!) and I miss his music always being on. He has the most amazing taste in music and from today I will be blasting the speakers and only turning them down when I leave. The dogs appreciate my tunes! I hate silence. Really I do. Roll on Saturday when I see him for 24 hours and get to feed him. As my youngest said the other day … you now only have 1 child!

Sixth. I have had a gin and tonic every night for quite some time. I keep wondering if it’s doing me any harm but there is quinine in the tonic (selling it here readers) and frankly I fucking love a drink.

Seventh. I am a cleaning product hoarder. We won’t broach further.

Eight. Dementia dad has a suitcase on the ‘get set go’ next to his bed. I put it away and he gets it out. He’s going nowhere. It’s a hamster wheel of late.

Nine. I can pick locks. How did I discover this? No I didn’t recently case a joint with the plan of going back to remove some shit! Dementia dad got stuck in the bathroom twice this week. I continually ask him not to lock it but it falls on deaf ears. He gets stuck I have to get him out. Some scissors and some lady power and we’re on! Needless to say that when I got him out this morning he had managed to get both legs into one of the legs of his pants (retrieved from the laundry basket!) and was waddling about like a penguin. Trying to get those legs out was interesting but hey it’s only Wednesday right?! Winky watch Wednesday shall it be called today.

Tenth. I love my husband. It’s a strange feeling when you acknowledge that at some point, which may not be too far away, you will just be left with just each other for amusement. No small people getting under your feet. No one else to cater for. No one to ferry about like a free taxi with no thanks. Just the two of you. It’s good to realise that you enjoy each others’ company and that you make each other laugh and that you’re in this together. Yes his nose hair drives me mad (sorry but wtf is nose hair really for?!) and the fact that he regularly leaves dirty pants on the floor, even though the basket is on the other side of the door. He does replace loo roll but leaves the empty roll on the side when there is a bin within striking distance. He snores like a motherfucker. The worst I have ever known. Yet he knows me inside out and loves me still warts and all. I don’t have warts but you know what I mean. He seems to enjoy the noise that I make and the whirling dervish that I am.

So for the midway point of the week I feel good. I never suffer from down days and feel sorry for those who do. I don’t do ‘down’. I do cup half full not half empty. I do PMA! Mindset is key. I don’t do regrets. Regret is a terrible waste. Excuses should stay in the past and you should start each day with good thoughts. Never wait for the right time as it may never come. Go with your heart and your head. Go with what works for you. I am impulsive and never quit. For me heart and head together works. Find what works for you. Worry less about what others think and worry more about you.

Buy those shoes because it’s not a dress rehearsal. Kiss your kids. Cherish being alive.

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