How did I get in this pickle?

By pickle I mean predicament to the ultimate degree. You ever notice that just when you weren't even paying attention all the rules in your life change? You think you're in charge and have everything under control and the next thing you know you are side swiped by a role reversal reality check. Well that has been my week. I'm not complaining. I'm actually in awe of this phenomenon and I feel like it deserves a notation.



One big issue is my Grandmother. The poor thing can't remember a darn thing. She gets totally frustrated by this, until 30 seconds go by and she forgets to be frustrated and its business as usual. She asks the same questions all day long.

"What day is it?" "Did I eat lunch?" "What's your name?"

I love her dearly, but I have watched her become someone that I don't know very well and she certainly has no clue who I am. She doesn't know that she practically raised me and that when I was my daughters age I loved her so much that I carried a photo of her to school. But she does know one thing, and she stated it pretty clearly this week.

"You seem like a smart girl, you need to do something with your life."

And the pickle jar is sealed.



Lydia my charming, sweetheart of a trouble making child also seems to have one up on me as of late. Today she destroyed her room. She got hold of the cinnamon while I was dealing with our taxes. A jar of cinnamon some water and one egg later, her room is one contaminated mess. Even if I could force her to clean up this disaster, she would never be able to. This concoction was in drawers, all over clothes and smeared into the floor. As I'm cleaning up Lydia says, "Lion and I were talking", (lion is her fave rave stuffed animal that she brings everywhere and is often very insightful, although he is allergic to foxes supposedly) "and we were thinking that you really ought to go on a vacation. You seem really tired."

It used to be that Lydia was my daughter and she didn't hold much insight into my emotional state. She might recognize that I am happy or cranky but she took this as inevitable maternal emotions. Only recently have I begun to realize that she sees me for who I really am.
Take it from me when your five year old and her lion recommend a vacation you need to take them up on it.
And when your 95 year old grandmother with dementia realizes that you are wasting your potential it's time to get to work.