Mom & Me Four Archive

    We took our first "Christmas at Costco" trip yesterday. Mom was rarin' to go. She walkered a lot and rested a little; her physical upshot was that she suffered only minor stiffness which disappeared with a nap in the evening. No back or knee problems, even though she was bent practically in half most of her walkering time. I reminded her to "stay close to the walker to prevent back aches" only once, though. She was so animated and focused on Costco's holiday decoration and food gift displays (not to mention the sampling kiosks) that I forgot about her possible later discomfort in the pleasure of watching her examine every item and discussing each with her.
    Funny about the holiday food gift aisle. I forgot about this aspect of Costco holiday visits. So far, they have only one aisle of decorations and one of food gifts...the display will grow exponentially from now through Thanksgiving, though. Anyway, after we perused the decoration aisle, the next up was the holiday food gift aisle which, of course, was loaded with all the sweet delicacies against which diabetics are cautioned to armor themselves. Had I been paying attention, I might have steered her away from this aisle but, suddenly, there we were, Mom's eyes as big as saucers. She said, "Now, this is where I intend to spend some time!"
    I gave up before I was even allowed to start. I figured, what the hell, her doctor wants us to raise her HA1c, it takes three months to do this, nothing like the holidays to encourage apparently (I add this cautionary word because, of course, part of her HA1c "problem" is related to her Anemia Due to Chronic Disease, which is under the best control it ever will be) healthy glycohemoglobin levels. I'll tell you, this wily woman, this mother of mine, must have been reading my mind because, maybe an eighth of our way down the aisle she said, her eyes twinkling and her right eye winking at me, "Didn't the doctor say you should let up on controlling the amount of rich foods I eat?!?"
    Sometimes it amazes me what she remembers and how she remembers it. I winked back at her in response.
    We discussed possible holiday food purchases. I reminded her of two things:

• All holiday displays are in their infancy. Thus, we should pick and choose carefully with an eye to further possible purchases, and
• regardless of how loud her sweet tooth screams, I am not going to allow her to eat a box of candy or cookies or dried fruit or an entire cake in one sitting. I suggested that we pick a few really interesting items from yesterday's display, rather than trolling through under the influence of her "one of each" philosophy. Then, we'd savor our way slowly through our choices, purchase more as they are displayed, and lightly sweeten and spice our way through the holiday season in a relatively healthy manner.

    "Well, you're no fun!" she pronounced. But, she understood and nominally agreed. She also used her "let's get this as a gift" ploy, upon which I reminded her that it's a little too early to be considering gifts. I'm not sure she heard that comment!
    I gave her a two-purchase leeway (which expanded to three) and she made some excellent choices: Two different sets of Belgian Chocolates, one a collection of delectable looking cups filled with a variety of spiced chocolate delights and the other a collection of Belgian chocolate truffles with the advertised promise of strongly flavored centers. She saw me fingering and reading the ingredients on a bag of chocolate covered Bing Cherries, not the kind with the drippy centers and impossibly sweet Marachino cherries, but simple Bing cherries dipped in dark chocolate, and said, "Go ahead, get those. I like cherries, too."
    So, I did. She also prompted me to write down certain other items for future purchase: Chocolate covered Macadamia nuts; spiced nuts; a new brand of cocoa mix; something called "Moose Mix" which includes caramel covered popcorn and chunks of dark, nut filled chocolate.
    She did not rest through either the decoration aisle or the holiday food aisle. As well, she decided that "this year", perhaps we should attempt to send out Christmas cards and picked out a box with a reproduction of the simple, stark Bernardo Luini painting "Madonna and Child" (named, on the card, as "The Sleep of the Child Jesus"; the representation to which I've linked is not nearly as colorful as the reproduction on the card, which features lots of burnt umber, burnt sienna, festive touches of cadium-barium, light to deep, yellowish skin tones on The Madonna and pinkish skin tones on The Child). I can't remember ever sending out Christmas cards on my own, although my mother used to be a champion sender. As well, my taste in "madonna/child" pictures runs more to this. My taste in Christmas cards is revealed by my favorite, which I liked so much I never sent the original to anyone, although I occasionally Xerox copies of it to send to relatives with an appropriate sense of humor and very special friends. I just looked for it with the intention of scanning and displaying it online, but couldn't find it, so here's a description: It's a card designed along the Hallmark Shoebox line, that I bought in Sacramento in the mid 80's. It features stark caricature: A space ship on the front; inside, a snow man in various stages of disassemblage greets the reader with a straightforward message: "It's here."
    After dinner last night I brought out the chocolates at Mom's suggestion and limited her to one from each package. I cautioned her not to gobble, but to savor them, as we'd be enjoying them a little at a time. She paid no attention to me. For several minutes, though, after she'd popped hers down her gullet, practically swallowing them whole, and the boxes had been restashed, as I continued to enjoy mine she said, studying my leisurely delicatizing, "You know, you might have a point, there." She also received a third glipizide, in consideration of all the white rice (with dinner) and sugar she consumed. I almost considered not administering the third, but decided it probably isn't a good idea to spend the entire holiday season + a month pushing her HA1c to the sky.
    We had an easy evening, washed her hair, planned a trip to Bashford Courts to their Mountain Christmas store, one of Mom's favorites, as you can imagine, and one of our shared favorites, The Raven gift boutique. I'm not sure this will happen. Today is cool, very windy, and alternately cloudy, with an ambivalent promise of rain. Although I've got the windows open while she's sleeping, they will no doubt be shut tight upon her awakening. If she has the energy, we'll certainly take in the gift stores, but I'm not going to push it. I just checked in on her and she's snoring, which means she's sleeping hard against the drop in atmospheric pressure. Regardless, I think it'll be a good day. We'll finally be receiving her belated birthday present (I can't believe how long it took me to get copies of these movies): How the West Was Won and Jeremiah Johnson, as well as a copy of one of our shared all time favorites, Strictly Ballroom, so, even if we don't get out today, I'm expecting another great day.
    Time to get ready for The Mom's Awakening.
    Later.