Blogging hasn't been very high on my list of priorities the last few days. Surviving each set of 24 hours without killing anyone has been on the agenda instead.
Today we waved Mother off to her own home again after having her here for the last ten days or so. She was starting the recuperation period after a hip replacement operation. It was her suggestion that she stay here with us. "It will be easier." For her? Maybe. For me? Not so much.
I don't have an easy relationship with my mother. She pretty much disapproves of everything. Not just me, but everything. It is hard to stay positive around someone who can find negativity in even the most joyful of occasions. I do love her, very much. But I find it easier to love her when she isn't at too close quarters. Especially when those quarters happen to be mine.
So now I can breathe a sigh of relief, no? Well sort of. My aunt has come up for a week to take over care duties, but after that I'll be on my own again. Mother is not coming back here. Not unless I get to move out first. So this means daily trips to her house five miles away to keep her company and bring her shopping and try to get her to go out and about a little bit. It's fair to say that she will resist all these efforts and we may well fall out. Again.
All of which made me ponder the relationship that I have with my own children. Am I as disapproving? Do I make them feel like their opinion is worthless? Do I expect them to cater to my needs above and beyond their own? I hope not, but I'm sure in years to come they'll have their own complaints about my parenting. I just pray that whatever life chucks at us we'll still be able to find the time to see something beautiful and smile, to laugh at our foibles instead of berate each other for them and hug each other. Lots.
Week thirty nine, nine months in. - 267. Two pictures for the price of one, because I so love my new (to me) car, and she now looks extra smart with her new number plates on. 268 An outi...