Chipolatas, roast potatoes, and salad

Mum has entered a new era of clinginess.

Last night she stayed up until well past her usual bedtime, because she wasn’t going to go to sleep until I did. This morning she woke me up because she “didn’t want to be alone”. I’m not sure where this has come from, but I am very sure I want it to stop.

The rest of the day has been dictated by the heat, which mum has complained about repeatedly. Of course, complaining is nothing new to mum: the only way she currently seems able to interact with the world is by complaining about it.

Her mother – my grandmother – was the same: she didn’t have dementia, but she did have a background of being physically abused as a child (which I have previously written about, although I can’t find the relevant post atm) which understandably had a negative impact on her view of the world.

Mum said, more than once, “if I ever get like that, you have my permission to shoot me”. No shooting is going to happen, I promise, but seeing the pattern repeat in mum can but cause a mental sigh.

To be fair, mum did allow me to spend a few hours today reading, which is a rare treat. Of course, for a keen reader like me, no amount of reading is enough, and I’m very much hoping that mum doesn’t repeat her ‘staying up late’ trick tonight so I can get another hour or so of reading in.

Dinner was Nanna Tate brand roast potatoes – excellent, btw – with chipolatas and bagged salad. Mum said it was delicious, which is all I ask of a meal most days. I even got the last of the chocolate cherry cake, as mum instead had a toffee mousse sundae. And tiramisu. And the last chocolate éclair. Once again I am forced to wonder where on earth she puts it all!

And so to another warm evening, with Suki hiding from the Big Bad Fan. (The blowing air kind, not the thinking she’s amazing kind.) I just hope I can stay awake long enough to enjoy my reading if I do get some: right now, undisturbed sleep feels like the rarest treat of all.