Showertime

Since her stroke impaired her vision and balance, mom's bath-time has become a lot more challenging for her.  Since she moved in with my sister Nic, she now requires assistance to safely execute a shower and avoid any new mishaps.  And I’ve noticed a few things about mom’s showertime:

• My sister Nic is smart enough to keep shower days on a rotating schedule so you are never sure whether the Tuesday you’re planning to visit is an amphibious-duty day or not.
• It is unimaginable to me how so much water ends up outside the shower.  Certainly some of it should go down the drain – right?  Mom’s shower time is a complete twofer for her and the caregiver involved (as long as the caregiver is me, of course).  The dog is probably wondering when the ark is going to come along.
• The shower seems to reflect a double standard.  Her kids hover like helicopter parents if she tries to make herself a cup of tea.  But when it’s time for her to take a shower – independence rules the day.  Note to my future self: nakedness = caregiver distance. 
• The first time I “helped” with a shower (I use the term loosely) I mistakenly thought the transfer- bench was there to sit on.  Turns out it’s like a launching pad for mom's gymnastics routine.  She gets in that shower, stands up and my otherwise sedentary mother starts twirling like Dorothy Hammill in her heyday.  Honestly – the woman broke her arm walking to her chair.  But give her water and a slick bathtub surface and she can practically execute a double Lutz.
• Speaking of the transfer bench, 70+ years at getting out of the tub a certain way is tough to undo.  It has not once occurred to my mother to use the bench to exit the tub.  It doesn’t matter that you are telling her to sit down, she is still going to try to grapple her way over the lip of the tub (even though the task has been made decidedly more difficult by the bench that is in the way).  As designated shower-watcher, I have one job to do and yet there she is straddling the wall of the tub as my sister walks by to check on us. 

But mostly what I’ve learned from trying to help my mom with her showers is that being clean is overrated. 

Church Camp

This is the post before the Host – since Church Camp isn’t until next weekend. But we have officially signed up to attend the St. A’s annual church camp retreat and that is worth a blog post of its own.

I don’t know what is more surprising about the 18 months since our move to Nashville – that Rita got a brain tumor or we’re preparing to attend church camp.  Don’t know about Rita, but I'm going to start dodging lightning strikes.

In all her sincere enthusiasm for our upcoming attendance of the St. A’s church camp, I’m not sure Rita realizes that this is going to include church and camp.  I predict we bring our own wine.  And vegetables.  And sheets.  And magazines to read while others are praying.  In fact, we may just bring a bible to the closest Four Seasons and call it a day.

A few things worth noting:

• Ummmmmmm, will we be the ONLY people without children on the trip?  This isn’t just the church people’s elaborate effort to widen the babysitting circle, is it?  Let’s not tell anyone we’re talking about our cats and we can fit in better.  [Of course, we’re lesbians, so people expect us to talk about our pets as children.] 
• Thankfully, there are several events that include “…..and cocktails”.  Otherwise known as liquor with the vicar.  See…Episcopalians really are like Catholics, sans the crazytown clerical celibacy, of course. 
• I don’t want to (generously) say that our group of church camp peers are middle aged, but the weekend’s "physical activity" is…..kickball.  Did we decide darts was too taxing?
• Do Episcopals have excommunication?  If so, exactly what are the terms?  Asking for a friend.
• Most of Rita’s and my preparation has focused on which cocktails we’re going to bring.  Somehow I think our preparatory contemplation is supposed to be deeper than the best Old Fashioned recipe we can find. 
• Is saying “For Fucks’ Sake, bless her heart” an acceptable compromise on Rita’s cussing?  I worry.

I can’t wait to see what we have to say AFTER we go to Church Camp.

Presidential Sweet

Best part of the presidential debates is curating the best comments off the interwebs.  So here are my faves from tonight's first presidential debate:

Still waiting for Hillary to address our national epidemic of fat hackers.

This is like when the valedictorian and a stoner kid both run for Student Body President

“Hey, Sean.  It’s me, the media.  Call me back, thanks, bye.”

Give this man the nuclear codes, he seems like he will get shit done.

Donald’s father fave him a “very small amount” okay…give me that amount Donald.  Give it to me now.

“I have better judgment than she does, no question about that” says White Male Privilege personified, referring to an overqualified woman.

Trump says "the nuclears" and somewhere, George W Bush smiles.  "Heh, pluralizin' it"

OMG...is Barron Trump the DNC hacker?

Reminder:  nobody wins presidential debates.  We all lose.  All of us.  We are the losers.

Democracy isn’t dead, it’s just comforting Rosie O’Donnell

I swear to God Lester – use your microphone.

Weird that Matt Lauer was wearing a Lester Hold skin suit tonight

“Its not nice…its certainly not a nice thing that shes done” Trump says of a presidential contest

Hillary & Rosie, why you gotta be so mean?

The Cybers

Stamina is a weird way to spell dick.