Don't Tell Me What To Do

Every morning, as soon as my MIL has any indication that we are awake, she parks herself at the kitchen table. And waits. For me to serve her breakfast. She'll get herself some cereal, spills milk on the floor, makes a mess.of the table, and puts her dishes in the sink - even if the dishwasher is ready for dirty dishes. She always puts the dishes in the wrong way - cups and glasses on the bottom rack, plates on the top, or some weird combination of the two. She always has to be told to put the dishes in the dishwasher. She never has been a neatnick, and never really used a dishwasher so its kind of understandable that its not her first thought or that she's not good at it. Dishes aren't her strong suit, Hell cleaning has never been her strong suit... This is nothing new. And she does have Alzheimer Disease (I'm reading The 36 Hour Day and they've taken out the 's out of the name in the 4th edition). After she puts her things near me so that I can clean up after her, she sits down at the table and waits for more food. An egg. And juice. And toast. And her medicine. She just sits there and waits. And if I'm not getting to it fast enough, after all I'm also making breakfast and lunch for Twig and myself (Wood is out of town but he's often part of that equation), she asks of she can have an egg. And watches me make it. She has Alzheimer disease and part of her behavior is annoying because she has a fucked up disease and part of her behavior is annoying because she's living in my house and I don't like most people enough to spend a weekend with them much less live with 'em. But there's more. It's been a greuling week at work and last night I skipped making a full meal for dinner. I offered left overs and promptly parked my ass on the couch with a stiff drink in hand. And she came to the living room asking me for a salad. And followed that up with "I want salad every day" with dinner. There's lettuce in the fridge. "I need cucumbers and tomatoes" every day... I don't have the energy to do a full meal every day. I'd skip meals several times a week if it weren't for the fact that I live with other other people who can't skip meals. She then talks about how she can pay for the salad fixings, contribute to the weekly food budget. Which I explain is very generous and we can work that out another time. But she presses the need for salad ingredients. And I understand! All of it. She needs roughage so she can shit (I get it, I've got bleeding hemmorhoids from eating badly). And she's asking because in reality she's a guest in my home, reliant on me for just about all of her needs. I have to turn on the shower every day because she can't do it on her own. Sequencing, any activity that takes several steps is really hard for her. And I KNOW its her disease. And I STILL feel like she's telling me what to do, how to do it, and when. I ABSOLUTELY HATE to be told what to do in that "you're obligated, bound to it because I said so kind of way". And when I'm completely overwhelmed, overextended, overtired AND doing Twig and Grammy care alone and my full-time FUCKING JOB is Grammy care and I'm doing both with too few resources: hands on deck support, money, hours in the day, etc. It doesn't take long for me to feel like the slightest expectation of me is a provocation and at best feel bitchy or at worst act badly. Jeezus, this has only begun. Right now, all I wanna do is run! But I gotta get up and make breakfast.