When you told me the other day how my mom is showing signs of agitation, that she resists re-direction, gets into everything, and that she sometimes makes fists and gives dirty looks, I was really thinking —
And your point is . . . ?
Mom has a brain disease. She has advanced dementia, Alzheimer’s or something that is suffocating her brain and making her behave erratically in the process. Mood swings, agitation, and a departure from reality are expected.
Please be patient and kind with her.
Instead of complaining, tell me how you are accommodating my mother’s advancing disease. Because when you tell me she’s making a fist — I hear that she’s frustrated, and that YOU need to slow down and be patient with her.
Please meet her where she’s at.
When you told me that she broke the night light in her room, I was thinking that it shouldn’t have been there and that she’s lucky she didn’t cut herself. I remember going into homes that weren’t childproof with my very young children and feeling like I was surrounded by time bombs. The glass vase on the coffee table? BOOM! The beautiful floor lamp? CRASH! You should know by now that my mother is like a 5’3″ “toddler” who gets into things.
Please safeguard your valuables and childproof your surroundings.
When you complain about my mom, it feels like daycare complaining that my toddler broke a crayon or ripped a page in a coloring book. Which probably explains the puzzled look on my face and why I don’t apologize.
Please stop complaining!
The toddler can’t help it and neither can my mom.