Be Careful

I don't want to bitch and bitch and bitch but.
I am relieved I get to leave here tomorrow.
My mom has been driving me nuts. 

Every time I do something she says "Be careful."

Going for a walk around the circle?
"Be careful."
Why.
"It's icy out there."
Ma, it is 48 degrees. There's no ice.
"Well still be careful."

I take her car to get it inspected, "Be careful." 

I go to the Walmart to pick up something, "Be careful." 

I went out to dinner with my cousin last night and she went on and on and on. "Be careful. People drive like crazy around here. They don't signal, they drive too fast..."

Ma.

You know I lived up here for 30 years? You know I live in Maryland now and people there drive like absolute dumb fucks? Telling ME to be careful, like I'm not ever? I'm not cautious? I don't look both ways three times? I am a maniac dumb shit and  I drive over curbs and through people's living rooms?

I told her I was taking her trash out and she told me to be careful.
Seriously, shut the fuck up at this point. The more you tell me to be careful the less I want to be careful. 

So she says it, and I say "No."

At first she laughed. 

And then she got mad. I asked her why she was mad, and she said that I'm not taking her seriously. 

"It isn't that I'm not taking you seriously, but I'm going to be 60 years old. I'm not 12. You can stop telling me to be careful. Instead of saying that, why don't you thank me for doing the things I did? Thank you for getting the car inspected. Thank you for taking the trash down." 

"Well that's how I broke my hip," she says. 

Yes this is true. But. Sigh.

You weigh less than that giant trash barrel, AND you could have just let go of it when it started to roll away. But no - you had to hold onto it like somehow you were going to prevent it from rolling, and it took you out. Technically, you broke your hip. Not the trash barrel. So. You be careful. 

I weigh twice as much as the trash barrel. It cannot kill, hurt, or scare me. 

"It's dark outside." 

I took out my LL Bean headlamp. Put it on, FULL POWER, shined the light in her face and said "It's not dark out anymore." 

Her neighbor has all these wicked cool lights on the side of his trailer that are motion activated. And they are brighter than the sun. 

It is super not dark out anymore. 

I know she cares. But it is borderline insulting, and exceptionally emotionally exhausting to hear this come out of her mouth every couple of minutes. 

And I said I don't want to bitch. I recognize we have our mom, she's mostly in her right mind (except for turning the internet off at night because someone could access her wifi or whatever). I told my cousin last night I didn't mean to gripe considering his mom (my mom's sister) is in a home for memory care patients, and I can have conversations with my mom and they make sense and life is fine. I don't mean to diminish his situation at all, but he totally understood. And .... he laughed. Because of course he did. 

Anyway. 

I'm finishing my mom's laundry. Waiting for the last load to dry and then off to bed. Digits below! 

digits

exercise: 12/12 hours.  two walks, one up and down the street between meetings, 10 min/.61 mi. Bigger walk after work, 25 min/1.31 mi. 11k+ steps by bedtime

blood glucose:

7:45am: 116 
4:30pm: 166
10pm: 108

food & meds:
7:45am: phentermine+jardiance
2pm: met+glip
3pm: scallops, onion rings, coleslaw (all gross. meh)
6:30pm: white wine
8:30pm: turkey and gouda on low carb white; met+glip