What Is Real?

Last Monday Daughter called me in tears and said she'd broken up with Flasher. She told him she didn't want to speak to him ever again. Saturday and Sunday she began asking me to take her to town to meet Flasher and D. She said they wanted to meet both of us, and I could be there and listen to her conversation. I explained that I thought Flasher might misinterpret this as meaning she wanted to be his girlfriend again. She finally told me they'd gotten back together.

Sigh.

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Obviously, I wasn't thrilled. I explained that I couldn't stop her from being his girlfriend, but that I would not encourage or enable it. I would not take her to meet him, and he was not welcome in our home. I explained why. She called and talked to him and said they were just going to be friends and he said there were other fish in the sea.

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Yesterday afternoon she had an appointment with Therapist. I provided a brief update before Daughter went in, and told she had broken up with Flasher, and that I was tired of lies. Therapist called me in because there was something Daughter needed to tell me. Therapist reminded Daughter about how important the truth was, and Daughter said she'd never broken up with Flasher. I reminded her of her tearful phone call. She became confused. Therapist kicked me out again.

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Therapist is thinking that Daughter no longer knows what is real and true, at least in terms of Flasher.

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When we got home, I explained to Daughter that Cat had urinated in the back porch bathroom because his litter box was so dirty, and she needed to go in and scrub the floor and baseboards.

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"I'm done."

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"How did you do it?"

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"I used the swiffer wetjet."

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"What about the baseboards?"

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"Um, I used the wetjet on them, too?"

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"Go get a rag and the bathroom cleaner and use that on the floor and the baseboards."

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"Okay, I'm done."

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"The baseboards are still dirty."

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"I see what you mean, Mom, they were disgusting. Now they're clean."

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"Did you clean behind the toilet?"

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"Oops."

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"Now I'm done."

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"You didn't clean the baseboards behind the toilet."

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"I did it, Mom."

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"Did you get the black footprint off the middle of the floor?"

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"That's from my shoes. I guess now I have to take them off to do it."

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"No, clean the floor and then back out, cleaning as you come."

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I don't know if she did that or not. By this time, I was worn out, and I hadn't even cleaned it. All of this just points to how hard life is for her right now. I've got her taking miralax again every night, as she was regularly clogging the toilet. She becomes severely constipated when she is under stress. It's a control thing. This morning she came out and said with wonder, "Mom, it didn't hurt when I went to the bathroom!" Dad has gained 5 1/2 more pounds of fluid, but he's doing pretty well considering all the excess weight he's carrying. He had more blood work done today to see if his kidneys have recovered enough for him to go back on the diuretic. I suspect that as long as we're on the roller coaster with Dad, I'll be dealing with more challenges from Daughter. She's wanting to me next to me all the time, and being around her is exhausting, to say the least.

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I really need to wash her hair, but right now I need the break I get when she's taking her shower in the evening. I'm going to try to do it tonight. Maybe if she gets that attention from me, she won't be as clingy. I can hope.