I know exactly how you feel. We had no extra visitors or any excitement whatsoever planned, so I hoped to sail through Christmas without incident. But on Christmas Eve evening Mum was calm so I made some mince pies (I'm getting tired of paying for pastry with a teeny blob of mincemeat in there somewhere!) and a trifle.
Mum was always the Trifle Queen, and maybe this was part of what upset the apple cart. At about 11pm when she'd normally be starting to tire and I might be able to persuade her into her bed, she decided she had to go home to her mother. In the last 6 months we've had less of that, thankfully, which has helped counterbalance the shift towards double incontinence, but it was after 5am on Christmas Day before she eventually ran out of angry anxiety steam and slept.
We had a couple of good hours when she got up at noon-ish, and she loved watching her distant grandson assemble his Christmas Lego, via Skype, for half an hour or so. But that unsettled her again and she wanted to go to her mother straight after.
A long, quiet, grey and damp walk seemed to have tired her out and settled her, but she only messed with the simple but tasty Christmas dinner I prepared, and even the (rather excellent if I say so myself) trifle I made was only half-eaten. It was all rather disheartening... especially when I turned my back and my glass of port ended up all over the sofa, just when I was ready to sit down and 'relax'.
Ho, ho, holy heck, give me a break!
Still, the second glass ended up in me rather than all over my phone and the TV remote, and the gravy had definitely benefited from a glug of port as well. Mum benefited from me sneaking half a lorazepam into her evening pills when I could eventually get her to take them, and by 10 she was fast asleep. She only woke once in the night, which was a festive blummin' miracle! Normally if I get three hours without a break I feel blessed.
But today she's just been weary and grumpy and won't eat much again. We didn't even get out for a walk, which is a shame, because she hasn't been to the loo properly for days so I'm on permanent poo-watch and was hoping exercise would get things stirring.
Never mind,
this too will pass!
Earlier on I watched the Christmas 'Good Life' which I recorded the other day. I still think that's the best bit of seasonal TV ever made... though that may be because my inner teenage self still can't resist Felicity Kendal.
Anyway, Christmas... yes... a potential war zone at the best of time, but we stagger through it somehow. If we're lucky there's a truce at some point and we all get to kick a football around for a few hours before battle begins again. But it's a battle worth fighting... I keep telling myself. ;-)
Good luck out there, everyone. There's a garden near us where a row of very early daffodils are coming up remarkably early, planted up against what must be a warm south facing wall. The fat flower buds don't seem to be far off bursting open.
The seasons are marching on relentlessly; sometimes dragging us along by the hair, sometimes leading us by the hand. But always reminding us there's more to life than our day to day trials.