Bath Time

Used to Be Mother has refused her twice weekly baths for the last three weeks. Her refusal yesterday fell on our deaf ears. We aren't sure if she is sleeping in her clothing now because she was wearing exactly the same thing as she did on Sunday. Her walk in shower with a fold down seat was perfect for her and us to accomplish our mission.

Shirl shampooed her hair while I held the shower hose. Mom followed our instructions on where to wash and when though she needed more help with her bum.  It was a complicated and wet affair with three pairs of hands and we were all wet by the time it was done. 

Shirl clipped her nails and I lathered her up with lotions before helping her get dressed with clean clothes which took a while to find because almost everything in the closet had a stain here or there. She did't like the way Shirl had combed her hair so she brushed it all forward like Caesar. 

We stripped her bed and replaced it with new bed linens. It must have been 80 F in her room. We hung her pictures on the wall. She said: "Oh look at how nice the bed looks."

She wanted to go sit with her friends in the lobby where they wait in silent companionship. On the way, we met with a woman from Dublin. She tells us that every time we see her. She took my mother into her arms and gave her a big hug and kiss on the cheek and told her how lovely she looked. Another  lady, the lip kisser from yesterday, saw our full laundry basket as we headed for the elevator.

Lip Kisser whispering: "Can I just have a quick peek inside? I won't wake up the baby."

Today we are taking Used to Be Mother for a haircut. I feel a little anxious when we take her out in public. You just never know these days to whom she will show her false teeth. 

What we know for sure is this:

UTBM: "These are my daughters."