Mom's Powers of Persuasion

                                                           

   
Welcome to the March edition of The Insecure Writer's Support Group. Be sure to visit Alex J. Cavanaugh and all of the talented writers who are always willing to offer their support.
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Positivity, Confidence, Empathy, Active Listening, Conscientiousness, Willingness To Compromise, Comfort With Silence, Authenticity and Flexibility, are "9 Personality Traits of the Most Persuasive People," according to a Feb. 13 article in Inc. Magazine.

When it comes to my mom, we can definitely scratch Compromise and Flexibility off the list. Once when a neighbor in the nursing home dropped by, my mom wouldn't see her, because she didn't have an appointment.

While on the outside my perfectly coiffed mom looks almost docile at first glance, inside lurks the mind of a hunter out to tame even the wildest beast in the habitat. But in her case the habitat is comprised of a temperamental hairdresser, disagreeable tablemates, and over-worked nurse's aides.

My brother is constantly testing my mom's memory by asking her about current events and TV actors. If she stumbles on a name of a character from one of her favorite old movies, he immediately starts to panic. Sadly, he doesn't realize that she has more important things on her mind.

One night after dinner my mom called one of the nurse's aides over to her table. The only thing that I remembered about this woman was that she always looked like she'd rather be anywhere else. But on this particular night not only was this woman smiling, but when my mom asked her to sing, she sang a happy little tune for the whole table.

Later when we were back in the "privacy" of my mom's room: "What's wrong with you? They don't give you any privacy here. There aren't even locks on the doors."

"Mom, that's for your own protection. What if there's an emergency and they need to get into your room quickly?"

"Well, I don't care about that."

Meanwhile back at the ranch, I was dying to know my mom's secret for turning that crabby nurse's aide into a Stepford Wife.

She just looked at me innocently and explained that she had a little talk with her.

Last weekend my husband and I saw the movie Get Out, and the mother in the movie is able to hypnotize her daughter's boyfriend by stirring a spoon in a tea cup. I will no longer drink hot tea with my mom.

Mom's Closet Encounter

                                                         
                                                               

                 

Welcome to the April edition of the Insecure Writer's Support Group . Be sure to visit Alex J. Cavanaugh, and the rest of the extremely talented writers who may have an insecurity or two.

                                                          Mom's Closet Encounter

In February my mom went from the hospital to rehab and back again. Fortunately, her new home is conveniently located across the parking lot from the hospital, so on a nice day she can be wheeled over for a tune-up. Through it all, my mom hasn't lost her sense of humor, or her ability to unleash my insecurities.

Here is a brief sampling of her latest adventures:

Last week my brother suggested that we arrange for a prepaid funeral for our mom in order to lock in today's rates. A women from the funeral home agreed to meet us over at the healthcare residence. My plan was that I would keep her busy in the room, while my brother and my husband spoke with the woman downstairs.

Once we arrived, my mom said she wanted to join us. I thought this was a terrible idea, and was worried that my mom would spiral into a deep depression. At the very least, the thought of spending a lot of money on something she couldn't even enjoy would give her indigestion, but only her favorite child knew that she wouldn't mind planning her own funeral.

Her first concern was about the bugs. "I don't want a wood casket, because the bugs will get in. I'll also need a good hairdresser. I don't care that I'll have a closed casket. I'll need an experienced beautician that knows how to tease hair. Oh, and it wouldn't hurt if she could do a little something with my daughter's hair too."

A few days later she had trouble hearing me on the phone. Since she has difficulty bearing weight, my brother wanted to use a transfer belt to help get her in and out of the car on a trip to the dentist.

Mom: A transfer what?
Mumbling Daughter: Belt.
Mom: I still can't make out what you're saying.
MD: A belt. B as in boy, E as in egg, L as in your name Lois, and T as in Tom. Belt.
Mom: A brft? What's a brft?
MD:  Are you playing an April Fools joke on me?
Mom: No.
MD: Ok. What do you use to hold up your pants?
Mom: Suspenders.

For the last several weeks I've been bringing my mom's clothes from her apartment to her new residence, and whatever there isn't room for I've divided into bags for donating, and bags to store at my house which now looks like Disneyland for hoarders. My mom had every closet in her apartment filled with clothes, and she generously allotted her live-in caregiver ample space to store all of her belongings on top of the refrigerator.

In addition, she had a storage locker filled with clothing that she had no intention of parting with. My mom has collected more than 37 vests throughout the years, and when I asked her which ones she'd like to keep, she replied, "All of them."

Last night my mom sounded upset when she called, so I asked her what was wrong. She told me that someone had broken into her closet. Though she has a very stylish wardrobe, I couldn't believe that anyone  would actually empty out her closet. She said, "Oh no, my closet is still completely full. I just don't recognize any of the clothes in it."

IWSG: Calling for a Happy New Year

                                                                       

Welcome to the first Insecure Writer's Support Group of 2016. I would like to wish everyone a very Happy and Healthy New Year. The older I get the more I have trouble remembering who I called or sent New Year's wishes to. I'm also not sure exactly when the cut-off date is. Do I continue signing my emails Happy New Year through the end of January, or does it become annoying after the 15th? 

Hopefully, members of Alex J. Cavanaugh's Insecure Writer's Support Group  will be able to weigh in on the subject. In the meantime, I've done a little research of my own.

I noticed this year was more competitive than usual when it came to texting. Mini-me emoji cartoon texts were circulating and I had to get in on the action. When I thought I chose a fitting Happy New Year text complete with stars and sparklers, one of my friends texted back a look-a-like emoji bedazzled in an evening gown and pearls. It became a battle of the texts and those who couldn't create their own Frankenstein emojis fought back with killer family photos, or exotic vacation scenes. I decided to take a break from texting to make some actual phone calls.

Here's where my research comes in:

• Father's Day is the busiest day for collect phone calls - Snopes. 
• "We found that Mother's Day is far and away the most popular day to place phone calls across the world, registering more calling traffic than any other holiday, including New Year's and Valentine's Day," according to Reuters.

On January 1st, I called my mom to see if she had a good time at the retirement home's New Year's Eve party. She said, "Are you kidding? Everyone went to bed by 8:30." Then we talked about what everyone wore and who got indigestion, until another call came in.  

Mom: I have another call, but I can't find the button.
Me: The call waiting or "Flash" button should be somewhere on the top of the phone. 
Mom: Nope, it doesn't have it.
Me: Of course it does. It's a brand new phone, and we showed you where it was before.
Mom: I'm telling you it doesn't.
Me: Maybe your caregiver can help you find it. Why don't you ask her?
(10 minutes later)
Mom: She can't find it. I'm telling you I don't have it.

Eventually Mom hung up the phone, and the person who was trying to reach her finally got through. It was my brother and yes he knew exactly where the call waiting button was.

Afterward, I went upstairs to relay the story to my husband. I was just about to unleash my frustrations when I heard him skype-shouting to his mother in Israel:

"I said Happy New Year, Ma! Can you hear me?" (He kept repeating this over and over at louder and louder decibels. Finally, I heard him shout to her caregiver) 

"Put the earpiece under her hat so she can hear me. (10 minutes later)  Okay, now put it in her ear."

IWSG: The Ups and Downs of Elevator Etiquette

Mom celebrating her birthday with her grandsons; beloved son, and uncaring daughter

It's hard to believe that this is the final IWSG post of 2015. I'd like to thank Alex J. Cavanaugh for four wonderful years of hosting the Insecure Writer's Support Group, and encourage everyone to visit the rest of the talented bloggers. 

 Before Thanksgiving my mom hadn't been feeling well, so I told her that I was worried about her. She responded, "You don't worry enough."

We also had a discussion about the Barnes and Noble commercial with Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga.

                                                                 hollywoodreporter.com

My mom loves the commercial, and couldn't get over how wonderful Tony Bennett looks. She asked, "Did you see his mask?"

When I tried to explain that he wasn't wearing a mask she didn't believe me. I told her he must have a fabulous plastic surgeon, and that the photographer probably used a special lens on his camera, and other tricks with lighting. After she still didn't believe me, I started second guessing myself, and Googled everything I could find about the commercial. And people wonder why I don't have time to blog.

The next day, she told me that he wasn't wearing a mask after all. When I asked her what made her change her mind, she replied matter-of-factly, "Your brother told me."

Last Sunday we celebrated my mom's birthday by going downtown to see the holiday decorations, and have dinner. This had been the first time that my mom had seen her grandsons' apartment since they moved over the summer.

They frantically cleaned to make sure it would pass inspection, and my mom only found fault with a shower curtain that was in perfect condition, but it was "nothing special." Of course, I bought that shower curtain for one of their housewarming gifts.

There's never a dull moment in my family. My brother can always turn everything into a learning experience. Since my older son works in one of the tallest buildings in the city, and both boys live in a highrise apartment he's been teaching them proper elevator etiquette. For some reason, my husband has always been a first out of the elevator, first in the buffet line kind of guy, but my brother has taken both my boys under his wing with this task. After a few quick elevator drills, we worked up an appetite for dinner. 

Later while my husband was getting the car, we went back to their apartment to pick up my mom's birthday present.  Then a large unkempt man sporting pajamas while out walking his dog, joined us in the elevator. We all noticed that he had pressed a higher button, and tensions mounted, as we tried to silently plan an exit strategy with my mom's wheelchair through his massive structure and canine companion. 

When we reached our destination, the man and his dog walked out of the elevator, and politely held the door open so we could safely disembark. We thanked the kind gentleman who had passed the elevator etiquette test with flying colors. 

As we were heading down the elevator, we ran into an old neighbor who was very nicely dressed. I told her we were out celebrating my mom's birthday. She raved about how lovely she looked, and proceeded to ask her age. My mom's expression quickly changed, and she said that we had to hurry to the car, because my husband was waiting for us. That woman had failed the elevator etiquette test big time.

IWSG: Reflections On A to Z

                                                             

   

My first A to Z Challenge was in 2011, shortly after I began blogging. I couldn't believe how friendly everyone was. Not only did they willingly read my stories, but non-family members actually began to follow me. I signed on again for the next two challenges, and decided to take a break in 2014, as we were leaving on vacation toward the end of April. During the first few weeks before we left, it felt strange not participating in the challenge. As difficult as the challenges had been in the past, I missed the camaraderie of moaning and groaning with all of my blogging friends.This year it had an opposite effect, as it proved to be therapeutic in an unexpected way.

During the last few months my mom has groan progressively weaker. Though she has been using a walker for years, her legs have become more wobbly, and she has been relying more and more on her wheelchair. I took her to the doctor in March who in turn, referred her to three other doctors: a cardiologist, a rheumatologist, and a hematologist. I told my mom she didn't need to waste time visiting all of these specialists, but she insisted on seeing them anyway.

In early April she was scheduled for a lying down stress test with her cardiologist. By this time, she was so weak, that it was very difficult for her caregiver and me to get her in  and out of the car. After the results came back fine, I asked the cardiologist to test her legs for blood clots, check her for a urinary tract infection, and to also see if she was dehydrated. Though these are normally jobs for an internist, I thought he could send some orders down to the lab, since we were already at the hospital anyway. After he declined, we wheeled her over to her internist's office, but as my mom expected, it was her day off. After I dropped my mom off at home, I paged her doctor who made arrangements to have these tests taken by a visiting nurse the following day. For reasons unknown, all of the tests came back negative.

Over the next few weeks we went to the other doctors on her list. One of the offices was so filthy, that I refused to take my mom in. This building was so rundown that it only had a one person elevator that looked like it was on the verge of collapse. It was getting to the point where every time I saw my mom, I wanted to check her in to the hospital. My brother, and her friends in the retirement community were also quite concerned.

On April 17th, I picked my mom up to take her to the beauty shop. She had grown considerably weaker, and her doctor had ordered some follow up tests to be administered by her visiting nurse. During the ride home, I told her that this would be a great time to check herself in to the hospital. She refused again. I knew my brother would be visiting shortly, and mentioned that she would  probably be going at some point that day. Several hours later, my brother phoned me at 9 PM, to tell me they were heading over to the ER.

My mom spent a few days in the hospital, before she was sent to a nursing home for rehab. It turns out that she was suffering from dehydration, a urinary tract infection, and blood clots in each of her legs. She still likes her doctor, and plans on continuing to use her. Fortunately, she hasn't lost her charm, and has deservedly so mouthed the words, "You are dumber than dirt," to both my brother and me while the nurses weren't looking.

                                                                         

Being called "dumber than dirt," has unleashed a whole bag of insecurities for the Insecure Writer's Support Group.  I can't tell you how helpful it was to read through the encouraging comments during A to Z. It really was such a welcome diversion. I'd like to blame these events on getting so far behind in following up on the comments, but truth be told I still would've fallen behind. In any event, I hope to get back to everyone this week. Not only did your comments cheer me up, but my mom got a kick out of reading them too.

Thanks to Arlee Bird for another successful A to Z Challenge. I'd also like to thank Alex,  Rhonda,  Hilary,  Delores,  Joanne,  Robyn,  Yvonne.  Lee,   Chrys,  Cherdo,  Dixie,   Birgit,  Sue,  Jo,  Julie, and Al  for all of your support.

I'm also thankful for having this wonderful group cheering from the sidelines: Arleen,  Stephen,  Robin,  Gorilla,  Debra, and  Shady.  I also appreciate everyone else who took the time to pop in and say hello. I'm sorry if I left anyone out. Thanks for making my fourth A to Z truly memorable, and for keeping me sane in the process.

Adolescent Antics At Assisted Living & IWSG

                                                                       

Funny/by A Place For Mom Senior Living

                                                                                   

My mom was on her best behavior, as she was navigating her way through assisted living. Her insecurities flared up whenever a new person peered out of the doorway. She was the freshman in the land of scrutinizing seniors. A lone redhead in a sea of blue haired ladies. My mother thought it would be easier to keep to herself. I pleaded with her to have dinner with everyone, but she was determined to keep to herself. When I asked her why she wouldn't join the others she replied, "Because they're a bunch of old people."

Soon after, she began receiving dinner invitations from the other residents, and joined the "in-crowd." She enjoyed hanging out with the gals, but didn't share their views on the male residents. While most women would jump at the chance for companionship, my mom would rather roll her walker over most of the men she's met. "I would never go out with him. Do you know what he has the nerve to do?  He saturates his food with pepper before he even tastes it. I don't know how his wife puts up with it."

I couldn't believe my ears, "You never mentioned he was married."

To which my mom replied, "What does that have to do with anything?"  Of course, my mom was only kidding. He preferred salt.

                                                               

This brings me to the IWSG. Part of the story was factual, yet it was mixed with a dash of fiction. If I tried to categorize it, I would call it faction, or would fictual be more accurate? Needless to say, my mom started out as an insecure newbie, until she became more comfortable in her new surroundings. The same can be said for many of us before we joined  Alex J. Cavanaugh's, Insecure Writer's Support Group. Alex and the gang are always there to provide endless support, and pour pepper on our wounds when we need it the most.

IWSG: Should Women Shy Away From Self-Deprecating Humor?

It's time for another addition of the  Insecure Writer's Support Group. Be sure to visit  Alex J. Cavanaugh, and the other welcoming writers.

The other day I ran into an old classmate that I hadn't seen in years. We went all through school together, and though his hair had turned salt and pepper, I immediately recognized him. He reminded me that we were Facebook friends, and offered up suggestions for my blog.

Though he thought it had "potential," he felt I needed to "ease up" on my self-deprecating humor. He added, "Men like confident women. We don't want to hear about your flaws. It doesn't reflect well on you or your family. Take pride in your accomplishments, and stop going for the cheap laughs." Then he smiled when he said, "I'm glad your mom still has a great sense of humor. Does she still wear those tight leather pants?" 

For once I was tongue-tied. Though part of me was flattered he actually read my blog,  I was shocked he had found it offensive, and creeped out that he still had a thing for my mom. It was high time I put him in his place, "Many female comedy legends are known for their self-deprecating humor. Look at Joan Rivers, Carol Burnett, Tina Fey, and Amy Poehler. Even Lucille Ball was at her best when she was stomping on grapes, or shoving chocolates down her uniform at the chocolate factory. Comedy isn't always sexy, yet many of these women are very attractive. I know I'll never be in their league, but you know what I mean."

He stared at me for a minute before asking, "Remember you mom's leopard couch? They sure don't make couches like that anymore. Didn't she have a matching robe too?"

I almost dropped my vanilla chai latte. "I don't remember inviting you over. When were you ever in our house?"

"Your brother asked me and Donny to come over after baseball practice one day."

Donny? Then it all came back to me. He and Donny were in a group of boys who traumatized me in grammar school. When he wasn't calling me names, he was busy shoving me on the playground. He was the ringleader in a group of kids who picked on everything from my buck teeth to my clown shoes. Funny how someone who spent years deflating my ego, found my self-deprecating humor unbecoming.