"Today was a day," my husband said, after he came home from work today.  And indeed, it was.  He had taught four classes today as the new technical trainer at his work, each lasting for almost an hour.  That's the most he's ever done yet.  His voice was strained from talking so much, but he still enjoyed it, even thought it was long and tedious.  

But then he came home and had to deal with so much more fun.

And boy, today was fucking special. 

First of all, my mother was hanging out outside with my son, my oldest, the only person in the house that gives her any attention, the only one who listens to her, and the only one who tells her anything about our lives.  And he does everything she ever asks of him, for the most part.  Because, well, he is the only she asks to do anything that is manual labor.  She asks me to buy her stuff.  And asks my youngest for help with her computer and TV.  And asks my husband for basically nothing, other than to ask him to ask me to do something for her (wash her clothes, put this up, get her that, call her doctors, etc.).  She sometimes tells him her medical problems, but usually, again, she tells him to tell me about it.  Anyways, so the rest of us don't have much to do with her.  And that's because when we do, she uses that information or task to use us, abuse us, or just plain get her jollies off on being mean or rude to use.  She never asks me what I am up to, or how my day is, or anything.  She only does when she's controlling me.  Now that she's no longer controlling me (manually, mentally she still controls me--meaning I still sometimes act as though she is), she has no use for me other than what I can do for her.  

So, she's hanging out with my son, and he's talking to her about whatever.  Nobody in our house hangs out with her because of what I said above.  But sometimes, he does.  So, she's getting something she normally doesn't get from daily life: someone to listen to her jabber on about whatever.  In the past, her jabbering on would be about how we could do this or that, different from the way we normally do it, because...well, no reason.  She just wants to change everything and always tell people they're doing shit wrong.  So, then he starts to feel sick later in the day.  My hubby and I head out to buy my mom her cancer sticks (cigarettes) and stop at the grocery store.  And my son is watching TV in the living room, trying to feel better.  And she pokes her head in and says "Grandson (she uses his real name), come here!!"  He says "in a minute".  Then she yells "never mind".  Then she comes in and says "Do you have two minutes, I need to talk to you about something."  He says "Yeah, in a minute".  He doesn't feel well, so he decides not to go at all and she comes back in and says "Can you come here!?  I need to talk to you about something."  He says "No, grandma, I don't feel good.  Is it important?"  She yells "Just come here!"  And he says "Go ask my brother if it's important.  I don't feel good."  Mind, you, he's not 10 years old, he's 24.  He's a grown ass man who is stating he doesn't feel good.  And she literally screams back "I DON'T FEEL GOOD EITHER!!!"  He responds "So go ask my brother!"  She screams "FINE!!" and slams the door and goes back outside

We get home shortly later and my son says "Can you go see what Grandma needs?  I don't feel good."  I said okay.  I knew he didn't feel well before we left.  So I said "Ma, what did you need?"  She says "Oh, chicken jumped up on the gate and then she decided to go back into the pen on her own."  I said "Oh, okay."  Then she says "Listen, if you're going to put up something on the fence, I was thinking...(oh, my mother and her "I was thinking" routine....it's always something).  I was thinking that you should attach it to the gate and not the top of the fence, that way you don't hit your head."  

Now, let me tell you, this is not how she explained any of this to me.  She has moderate dementia and her words were all jumbled and crazy and I had to keep making her repeat things so I could understand her.  Because I had zero clue what in the heck she was talking about.  And so far, her dementia does not affect her behavior.  It affects her ability to communicate and her understanding of things.  Her tantrums are 100% still her narcissism.  Because they are always the same, and aren't out of the blue or different or worse or anything.  Just exactly the same as she always has been.  

So, I look at her and say "I know mom, I was already going to do that."  She gets all annoyed "No, no!  I mean on the gate part!!"  I said "I know.  That was my plan the entire time.  In fact, I was going to chicken wire that part up before I did the rest, but they ended up jumping over the fence, so I had to do that first.  But yes, I would never chicken wire the top, because we'd all have to duck to go in."  She kept saying "No!  I mean this!"  She could not understand me.  Either that, or she was annoyed I already had the idea she thought was so fucking brilliant.  And I say that because....

That's the fucking thing she wanted my son to truck his ass all the way outside to just to listen her to say, rather than just tell him in the house.  That's why she got so angry.  She wanted my son to listen to her brilliant plan on where to place chicken wire, even though she could have told him indoors, where she already was to ask him to come outside to begin with.  Sigh.  

So I went back in, and he told me what happened, and then he gave me the green light on scolding her about it.  Because he was fucking PISSED.  And if you're in the UK, that means angry as fuck, not drunk.  Don't think my son was drunk and that's why he didn't feel well LOL  I do know people all over the world read this, so I don't want to give the wrong idea here.  

Anyways, he never gets angry at her like that.  And never ever enough to let me yell at her about it.  

So I said to her when she came in "And the next time you want my son to do something, and he can't do it for you, be nice to him about it."  She said "What?"  So I repeated myself.  And then she started lying.  "I was freaked out about the chicken!  That's why I was mad!"  I said "No you were not, because he was going to come out when you were actually freaking out about the chicken and you said "never mind".  You wanted to tell him about the chicken wire and he didn't feel good and you got mad at him.  You need to treat the people in this house better if you want them continue to have anything to do with you."  

And out comes the old narcissistic bullshit-ass response she always gives "I guess I just won't say anything at all anymore."  

So I also got PISSED and screamed "NO!  You do not get to brush this off with that stupid answer!  I am just asking you to be nicer and give people more respect, that's all!  Just be nice!!"  

So she repeated herself "I guess I just won't say anything anymore."  And then she shut her door on me.  

And then I became full of rage.  "THANK YOU OH SO VERY MUCH FOR NOT ACTUALLY RESPONDING TO SOMETHING I SAY LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO!!  LIKE A LITTLE CHILD!!"  And then the rage flowed out my body into my words as I added "YOU SURE KNEW NOT TO TALK TO HIM LIKE THAT WHEN I AM HOME BECAUSE YOU FUCKING KNOW BETTER THAN THAT, DON'T YOU??!!  SUCH A MANIPULATIVE THING TO DO WHEN YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH IT!!!"  

And then I said real loudly to nobody but to anyone who could hear me "I just want to punch her in the face!!"  

I giggle, because I'd never punch her in the face.  I slapped her once.  I can tell you the exact date, too: May 16, 2006.  I know, because of what that day means in my life and I slapped her only because she had just slapped me.  She was drunk off her ass, accusing me of being a child molester because I slept next to my two sons, aged 4 and 8 at the time.  She thought that all adults who sleep next to their children of the opposite sex molest their kids (I had never known she even thought that until that day).  Obviously she has some trauma with that, and most likely was molested herself (my grandfather was a fucking creep with little girls, as was his son).  So I took the plate I was loading into the dishwasher and slammed it down into the dishwasher hard and yelled "SHUT UP!!"  I had put up with her shit for long enough and I wanted her to stop being so fucking gross!  And she jumped up and slapped me.  So I immediately slapped her back.  And then started screaming like a wounded animal full of rage (which she was) and started chasing me to really hurt me, all the while screaming and growling "You hit your mother, you psycho!  What's wrong with you??!!  You hit your mother!!  How dare you!!!" As if her hitting me first hadn't just happened.  God, that was confusing.  And traumatic, because she was acting like a wild animal.  I ran and grabbed my kids and shoved us all into my car and locked the doors and called 911.  They didn't pick up, so I left.  Funny thing, there is a song that came on the radio with my first name in it when I turned on my car and me and my kids all started laughing.  That song was on the radio yesterday when all this was going down and I almost reminded her of it.  But I didn't.  Not yet.  

Anyways, thing is, what she originally said to my son was stupid, but not horrible.  But all the times that kept adding up and adding up and adding up lately of her talking to my oldest son like he's a piece of shit and I could never say anything to her about it, well let's just say that it felt GREAT to be able to yell at her.   But it was also infuriating that she refused to take responsibility for it and just sat there, lying to me about why she lost her temper.

Then we all stood in the kitchen making dinner.  I make three meals a day: one for mother, one for my kids and one for Mr. Brooks and I.  I make quick meals for mother.  I make keto meals for my kids.  And normal meals for us.  I usually cook their food at the same times as ours. But sometimes Mr. Brooks and I are tired, so we just order food.  

But as we're cooking, she comes sneaking in, as quiet as a ghost, and goes into the living room and starts whispering to my son.  My youngest son didn't want to listen to it, so he left and went to his room.  My oldest kept saying "No, you yelled at me because you wanted to tell me something and I wouldn't come, not because you were scared the chicken got out," and "I told you go to get my brother if it was important.  But it really wasn't important, was it?"  She refused to listen to him, and kept making excuses as to why she yelled at him.  Mostly it was "I am not so young anymore" and whatever else thing she could think of.  It was ridiculous.  She never took an ounce of responsibility for what she actually did.  

When this happens, and she doesn't shut her door on me, I will keep at her saying "All you have to say is 'I am sorry I lost my temper'.  That's it!"  She'd then come back at me some bullshit and I'd just repeat myself until she finally agrees.  But my oldest son didn't want to have to put up with having to yell at her or keep on her until she actually listened to him, so he gave up.  I don't blame him.  She'd tedious as hell.  

Then she came back into the kitchen to find me and I ran and hid from her, because I was still seething and she wouldn't have liked what I had to say to her.  So I hid and said nothing.  I was mad until I went to bed.  

Then, today (it's a new day now, as I didn't have time to finish this yesterday), she's said basically nothing to me.  And again, I don't blame her.  She's scared of my response.  Today, I am not angry, I just don't give a fuck.  I know there is nothing in this world that will change my mother, so I give up.  I'm going to concentrate on other things that are more important.  In actuality, I am excited to get started on some new projects, one being "No Spend September".  I have a lot of prep work to do beforehand, as well as prep work to get the garage and basement completely decluttered.  All of which I am stoked about.  Oh, we well as getting a new living room (my oldest son is installing a door so the animals cannot go in the living room unless we let them in there, which means we have can furniture again, hooray!!!--mother has a cat that RUINED all our old furniture, and we've been using outdoor chairs ever since--it looks like total shit).  So, I am stoked about much more important stuff than whether or not mother has a meltdown and takes responsibility for it or not.  She never will, so whatever.  Life moves on without her input or participation.  

So, that was a day.  

And today?  Was another fucking day.  And I thought yesterday was a day.  Good grief.  Though today it was 3 strangers who made our day special.  Yay.  But at least it wasn't mother.  

So that's a good thing, eh?