Monday, March 12, 2007

Mom was released on Friday. She stayed at our house until Saturday evening when we drove her home. Once she was out of the hospital she obsessed over her feelings of not being ready for release and not wanting to go back to assisted living. She got herself into full panic-attack mode by the time we dropped her off. She seemed to calm down some on Sunday. I cannot stand the ups and downs. While in the hospital, she agreed to give assisted living a month's chance. Once out of the hospital, she didn't want to go back at all. I know it's her illness, but it seems like no matter what anyone does, she's never happy. When she's in she wants out, when she's out she wants in. She complains that she doesn't have any friends at assisted living - she's stayed there a total of (I think) 4 days now. She had one friend in her old neighborhood and they were on non-speaking terms a good 50% of the time.

Yesterday I decided to get a little retail therapy. I found a great dress with a plunging neckline. It fit well, except the boobs looked really droopy (that's what happens when you go from a C to a nursing E back down to a B). So I went to Victoria's Secret, got fitted, and found an overpriced demi-bra that actually gives the old girls some perk. I usually hate their overpriced, crappy bras, but this one really worked. Once home, I put the new bra on to show Hubby (boy did he hate that.) Peanut noticed right away. "Mommy beebees up." "BIG beebees," he said while shoving his hand and arm down my shirt. A little while later he crawled up onto my lap again and began poking them. Then he laid his head on my chest and said "Soft beebees." I guess that cancels out the other night when he told me my teeth were yellow.


StaceyG said...

In a way I wish my mom would go to assisted living. But I'd get the same spiel...funny how some traits of the disease seem to be universal.

Even at age 8, Punkin still loves to poke my boobs. *sigh*

stefanierj said...

GOOO GIRLS!!! Rock that cleavage, mama!