Bbq vegetable pizza with salad; apple and pear crumble and ice cream

I didn’t post yesterday as I didn’t have much to say. I don’t have much today, either, but I’m hoping two days of ‘not much’ will provide enough to write about.

Yesterday’s carer was someone I remember from a couple of years ago, when mum had care after I came out of hospital. Within the first 30 seconds I realised why I remembered her: because I never liked her much. I get enough judgemental, snide comments from mum without paying someone else to join in. Mum likes her, though, which is a rare bonus

Today’s carer, on the other hand, is someone mum doesn’t like – she refers to her as “a right little madam”, which I think I’m going to use as her code name – but I think is great. The reason for this difference in opinion is, I think, because she is very good at handling mum: today Little Madam managed to chivvy mum into removing the pyjamas she has been wearing every night for months, washing herself, and allowing the pyjamas to be put in the washing machine. (I’m a bit surprised they didn’t walk there by themselves, tbh.)

Then she made mum some breakfast, redirected her every time she wandered off, and even did some washing up while mum ate. Because Little Madam got here early, while mum was still in bed (as I was, actually, having once again been repeatedly woken by mum from first light), she got to see the real mum, rather than the charming, congenial one visitors normally see – the one that complains about everything, pesters me every few minutes, and believes the rest of the world exists purely to serve her.

I’m sorry, LM, but now you see what I have to live with all day every day.

For the rest of the day, mum complained about everything, pestered me every few minutes, and generally got annoyed that I was doing something other than serving her – reading mostly, although I did pay a bill to the solicitor for mum’s LPA. Suki tried to sit with me, but gave up when mum kept popping in every few minutes to see what I was doing.

Despite this velcro-like attachment to me, mum as usual showed little to no interest in what I was actually doing or saying. The only thing that made her show even a glimmer of interest was me saying, in passing, that I have lost weight recently. Mum has always had a rather unhealthy obsession with weight, and a fondness for openly body-shaming anyone who doesn’t meet her idea of what a person should look like. That I am a person of size has always been an unconcealed source of embarrassment to her.

And so, just for a moment, mum showed an interest in me, purely because I have lost weight. I decided not to point out that it is almost entirely because of the stress of looking after her.

This evening I cooked a pizza, topped with bbq sauce rather than tomato sauce, and with generous quantities of sweetcorn, a vegetable which mum loves. Of course, tonight: “I don’t like sweetcorn. I used to, but I don’t now”. Sigh.

Then we had spiced apple and pear crumble, which smelt better than it tasted. The last of the cream has vanished from the fridge, probably the result of an over-keen carer, so mum had to have hers with a berry Solero. (Yes, I probably could have shared that block of ice cream, which was all that was left of that, but just for once I decided to be selfish. It’s not like mum would appreciate my sacrifice anyway.)

And so, once again, to an evening of reading in semi-peace while mum watches Strictly, the only time I am permitted to not sit with mum in the evening. These are the tiny moments that make life bearable.