Saturday, October 01, 2005

Granny

This is a new experience. Blogging in the "business lounge" at the Hampton Inn. On a whim inspired by toddler/husband exhaustion I decided to accompany my dad on a trip (6 hours in the car each way) up state to visit my Granny. Granny is, obviously, my dad's mom. She is 85ish, 300ish pounds, diabetic, and doesn't like to wear her teeth. Yes. I really did need a break.

On the drive up I was swept with this wave of sleepiness. Apparently my body noticed that it wasn't at the beck and call of the tiny tyrant, and figured it would be a good time to rejuve. I slept, looked out the window, read a page here and there in my book, (Almost done Kodi. Jamie is still super hot.) and played with my split ends. One very nice thing about my dad is he has no problem sharing silence. And silence is exactly what I have been craving.

Anyhoo--we arrived around 4:00--checked in, and headed over to the assisted living center. Those places are so creepy to me. I know I'm probably ageist or whatever, but that high a concentration of old--old people makes me feel weird. Plus they all keep their room doors open, so when you walk down the hall, it's hard not to look in. The result is a kind of bizarre geriatric zoo. I know. I'm going to hell. So be it.

Granny thought I was my sister Katy for a while--but Dad cleared that up. I sat and tried to think of something to say for a while (Granny has always been far more interested in and active with my aunt and her kids. We are not at all close.) and then went to the mall to try and rectify my clothing situation. I bought a couple of things at Maurices, and while I like them now, will probably both hate them and have grown out of them by tomorrow. (2 pairs of pants--one brown corduroy, one navy blue--but NOT JEANS, as they are against the dress policy at my school--and 2 shirts, both westernish (I can't help it. I want to be a cowgirl) one, brace yourself, lavender with shiny metallic lavender threads going through it, and one brown with different colored little flowers on it.

I went to the chocolate shop to get Granny a treat. Here's how the conversation went with the 10 year old girl behind the counter.

me: Do you have any chocolate for diabetics?
she: Like--sugar free?
me: Yes
she: Well, we like, have, like, some? With no sugar added?
me: Hmmm. Do you know if it's safe for diabetics?
she: Like, no?
me: (thinking "Well--I hope I don't send Granny into a diabetic coma.") Ok. I'll take an assortment of those. I need the ones that have no nuts and are really soft.
she: vacant look
me: I'm buying them for my granny and she's diabetic and doesn't have any teeth.
she: vacant look

Granny liked the chocolates (I checked with her nurse before giving them to her) and after enduring a Mormon DVD about the frigging resurrection, I pulled out my new clothes to show her, and tried again to think of something to talk about. That was followed by pizza with dad, and the snotty kid at the check-in guest telling me that the log-in number for the computer was on my key--which it fucking well wasn't, and, well, this blog.

Today's best thing about being a mom:
Sophie did give me something to talk to Granny about. I told her about the Jimmy milking episode, as well as the toilet gazing incidents. I THINK she thought my stories were funny. It was hard to tell.

Today's worst thing about being a mom:
As I was leaving, and Sophie was upset, I promised to bring her back a Dandelion Farytopia Barbie. Now I have to comb the city tomorrow and find one--or else.

9 comments:

Stine said...

DVD about the resurrection with the diabetic aging grandma...? Honey, you have SO earned some Mo cred for today. Good for you, and what a nice granddaughter you are.

patrice said...

blogging in a hotel. you rule.

so you talked about the milking jimmy incident...did you say "weiner" to your granny??? that's excellent as well as hysterical!

good that you got out of the house if only for a little bit. sometimes that's all you need to be back at 110%. (which of course is impossible. oh, the irony.)

amandak said...

Wow, a weekend with Dad AND Granny, you must have been really desperate for a break. Kidding. Kindof. So sweet of you to visit her. Especially when she's not exactly shown so much interest in us over the years. Sorry I didn't get your email yesterday until late evening, and I assumed you'd be on your way home by then.

Katy said...

That's really funny that she thought you were me. Usually when I'm up there she thinks I'm you. I feel the exact same about the...what's the PC term? Assisted Living Center. I just have to put myself into a kind of half aware coma every time I visit. As for the resurrection movie I TOTALLY warned you about the weekends prospective mormonness. Congrats on the cute clothes. I will come over at the earliest convenience and ooh and ahh at them!

lonna said...

Sometimes you have to do whatever you have to do to get a break from the little one. My grandparents never really got the hang of videotapes, but we got the pleasure of hearing audio cassette recordings of baptist preachers and baptist choirs. shudder!

NME said...

Shopping and six hours of silence to read and sleep sound like excellent reasons to get away. And when you factor into that the good deed of visiting with your Grandma your trip was an amazing success.

I have a hard time with real, real old people too. Well, the sick ones. I guess I don't like to be faced with our weaknesses and mortality. I always really respect people who are really good with the sick and elderly.

Kodi said...

God, I can't wait for you to get home. I need me some Becca time, damnit. I'm going on vacation next week, so we need to drink wine and watch movies this week.

KATIEmagic said...

On the plane home yesterday there were 3 rows of 70 something people in front of me. I found myself staring at them and thinking, "that's going to be me one day". Which wasn't a fun thought actually. It made me think the only think that will be recognizable to me are my eyes. Everything else will belong to some old person I don't even know.

Jen said...

No jeans at work? That sucks!

I hate those darn creepy places (assisted living) too. I would rather die than live in one of those.