Mom might not remember much about holidays, but the one thing she does remember is birthdays. Somehow, she can remember everyone's birthday and she always has a card ready for the birthday person weeks, sometimes even months, before their special day. I know it really brings a smile to our family member's faces when mom has a card for them on their birthdays.
Yesterday I had the fun job of taking mom to the Dollar Tree to stock up on her birthday cards FOR THE YEAR. When dad asked me if I would do it, I didn't think it was any big deal. I told him to tell her to be ready a little bit early (10:15) so we would have time to walk up there, since she is obsessed with walking wherever she wants to go.
I arrived at mom's house at 10:00 and she had barely gotten out of the shower. By the time she was ready to go it was 10:45 and we didn't really have time to walk up there and back, seeing how I have to get my son from Kindergarten at noon. But mom was insistent that she walk at least a portion of the way. So I let her walk up to the corner of the street, where she then got in my car and drove the rest of the way to the Dollar Tree.
Once at the Dollar Tree, mom went straight to the aisle of cards, her birthday/anniversary list in hand. She had her list categorized by each month, with each of her family member's names next to the month that their birthday fell in. On her list were kids, grandkids, one childhood friend, Cheryl, one niece, all of her brothers and sisters, some of their spouses, and most of my dad's siblings (and some of their spouses). There were a few people she forgot on the list, but I noticed those are the sisters-in-law that live farther away who we rarely see. At the top of the paper she wrote down a few names to remember for anniversaries: Joe and Natalie, Jeff and Starla, Cassandra and Jeff (don't ask me why she didn't list my sister or any of her other siblings). There were nearly 30 names in all on her list.
For the next 40 minutes, mom went from one aisle of cards to the next (the men's cards and anniversary cards were on the back side of the aisle rack with the women's and valentine's cards). She went from one side to the other, going down her list one-by-one (in order), looking for a card for each person in the various card sections. I bounced between attempting to help mom and confiscating toys that my two year old would pick up and try to open from the nearby toy aisle.
"George...who's George, who did I mean here, George..." mom mumbled, studying her list intently.
"Mom, George...he's dad's brother, your brother-in-law," I explained.
We went through this a few times throughout the trip as I tried really hard to keep patient and explain who each person was (all the while rangling a restless little boy). When she really got "stuck", I picked up a card for her. Of course, it couldn't be just any card. It had to have the word "sister" or "grandson" or "brother" written on the front of the card or else it was no good. But that was her only requirement. When we made our way to "June", mom immediately searched for the "grand-daughter" section of cards. Both myself and my two siblings each have a daughter born within 4 days of eachother in June! As soon as mom found the cards with the word "grand-daughter" written across the top, she counted out three cards, without reading anymore, and put them in her basket. She didn't open a single card up to read the inside. In fact, she picked up an anniversary card for one of the couples which was intended to be from one spouse to another. When she wasn't looking I switched it out for her, ha ha.
I thought card shopping would be a piece of cake. But nothing about dementia is a piece of cake! Aside from splitting my attention between my 2-year-old and 52-year-old, mom had absolutely no concept of the time. I mentioned earlier that I had a Kindergartener to pick up from school at noon. Mom was beginning to stress me out after 40 minutes of picking out cards. Twice, she stopped to count how many cards she had...all 30 of them. And then she had to compare that to the number of names she had written on her list. Meanwhile, I was looking at my clock and letting mom know that I had to leave very soon. I was afraid she'd never finish in time!
"Mom, we need to go. I have to get Cody from school; we need to get in line..." I said, getting the same response from mom as I would have expected to get from the wall.
No matter how many times I said it, mom simply couldn't comprehend (or seem to hear) me telling her that it was time to go. By the time I got her to the line, there were five people ahead of me. Another teller finally opened up another register, and the lady in front of me (who apparently caught on to my struggle) told me to go ahead of her. I was able to get mom home and over to the school just in the nick of time to get my son from school, but talk about cutting it close! I think I'm going to have to rethink taking her out shopping on Monday mornings!
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Monday, September 9, 2013
Sound the Alarm
I am a mom to a very busy, very curious, very independent and strong-willed two-year-old. He’s adorable. He melts my heart and he brings a smile to my face each and every day. He also leaves me exhausted by the end of the day. Especially on those days that I have to take him shopping. Today was one such day. We went shopping at Kohl’s. He was adamant that he was NOT going in a cart. I was able to bribe him for a few minutes with some fruit snacks. But once those were gone, so was my two-year-old. He was able to unlatch that cheap seatbelt and climbed right out of that cart. When he’s this determined to stay out of the cart, I give him a choice,
“Hold my hand or ride in the cart” and he will choose to hold my hand.
Not today! He insisted he could walk by himself. He was like a little Tasmanian Devil, running up and down the aisles, hiding in the clothing racks (pulling clothes off the hangers in the process) and touching anything else that caught his attention. Many times throughout our trip, I *tried* to pick him up and carry him. I was sure the police were going to be coming into the store at any given moment on suspected child abduction…that’s how big of a fit he threw when I tried to carry him along. Body wrenching and wiggling, legs kicking and lungs screaming.
Now…add my 52 year-old-mom-with-dementia into the mix and you can guess how my Monday morning went. Or maybe you can’t guess. Because there’s always something new and exciting with dementia.
“No, you don’t get into my purse, no! That’s mine!”
I honestly can’t even remember how it happened, but eventually I was able to convince her to get her wallet out again and we found her gift card. She placed it in the envelope along with the cardboard cut out.
Back to Kohl’s. You have the visual of my rowdy two-year-old. Now, picture my mom, racing around the store looking for something specific; me, chasing quickly behind her while pushing my toddler in a cart (he was just finishing up his fruit snacks), attempting to ask her what she was looking for. She was up one aisle and down the other as I maneuvered behind her with the cart. She was much quicker than I was and it’s hard to push those carts, so it will come as no surprise when I tell you that she disappeared from my line of vision. We were in the back of the store, in the home decor section. I turned up an aisle of picture frames just in time to see mom’s red hair flash around the corner. And then I heard an ear piercing noise. My first instinct was to cover my ears, but I knew right away that my mom was responsible for setting off the store alarm. I rushed around the corner to see mom, standing by the emergency exit, one hand still on the door, looking puzzled at where that loud sound was coming from.
I grabbed mom’s arm and pulled her away from the door, the alarm screaming so loudly that mom couldn’t hear me. In no time, there was a Kohl’s associate rushing to the back door to turn off the alarm. I apologized for the mistake (once the piercing sound was stopped) and pondered on the irony of the situation: it wasn’t my two-year-old that has set off the alarm, but rather my grown mom.
Mom seemed not to notice the commotion she had caused but rather went about her goose chase, calling across the store,
“Are you a worker??”
The sales associate (who had turned off the alarm) came back to mom at mom’s beckoned call, and patiently assisted her as mom asked her what her Kohl’s coupon mailers were for (not that I hadn’t explained it to her at least half a dozen times already!!!!!)
The rest of the shopping trip was fairly uneventful, aside from chasing a feisty two-year-old while attempting to not lose my mom. By the time we left, I felt ready for a nap!!
I have said this once before and with the holidays soon approaching I will say it again…to all those dear family members (and siblings of mine) who want to get mom a gift card for Christmas (or any other occasion): If you get her the card, you get to take her to spend it! It’s just not fair for me to have all this fun by myself ;)
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Christmas Shopping With Dementia
***SPOILER ALERT: TO MY DAD-YOU MAY WANT TO READ THIS AFTER CHRISTMAS, AS IT MAY SPOIL YOUR CHRISTMAS SURPRISES!***
My kids always get so excited at Christmas time. It goes without saying that they love to get presents. But they also love to GIVE presents. It is so hard for them to contain their excitement and patiently wait for us to open up whatever Christmas surprise they come up with for us. And we never know what we will get. One year, my daughter made me a necklace of mismatched beads on a strand of yarn. Every single day for 2 entire weeks before Christmas, she begged me to open it. She just knew it was a gift I would love! I wore it with pride. Many times, the kids will find treasures from their room that they will wrap up and give to us as gifts (I have a few of those under my tree right now!) I love their sweet innocence and the pride they have when they give us these gifts from the heart.
Last year, I went shopping with my mom to help her pick out Christmas gifts for all of the grandkids. She has always been great at picking out gifts on her own, but for obvious reasons she needed a little extra help. This year, she hasn't said much about gifts at all with the exception of once or twice when she told me "I need you to tell me what your children might like for Christmas." I knew it would be difficult for her to understand and pick out gifts on her own, even if I made a list and even if I was there with her. So last week, I took my dad (instead) shopping for Christmas presents for all of the grandkids and other family members.
As I wrapped and placed all of the presents under their tree, I realized that one person did not have any gifts under the tree: my dad. All of us kids got presents for dad, but for the first time I can remember, mom hadn't picked anything out for him.
Not that dad would care; he has always been the kind to think of others and never himself. Whenever we ask what he wants for Christmas, his reply is always the same,
"I don't need anything. Save it for the kids; it's about them."
Yesterday, when I was over at my mom's for the day, I asked her what she had gotten for dad for Christmas. She said that she had gone out shopping with my Aunt Claudia and got him something...I hate to write what it is, in case my dad did not follow directions and is reading this blog! But suffice it to say that it is something she buys frequently, which he would wear, so it is somewhat "routine" for her. I suggested we go out after lunch to Kmart (we didn't have much time between lunchtime and naptime to go anywhere father than Kmart, which is up the street) to pick out a few more things for dad. Surprisingly, she agreed.
I felt good; I was happy that I was able to convince her to get out and help her shop for dad! I didn't know how this would go, but I figured I would be able to find some things that I knew dad would like and be able to influence her on what to get.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
As we walked in the store, mom decided we should walk through every aisle and see what was there that he might like. We started at the beginning; although mom decided we could skip the card aisle because she didn't need to get him one of those. In the middle of the walkways were displays of colognes and body gels. I asked her if she thought he might like some cologne. It took me a couple of times of asking her before it registered to her that I was talking.
"Huh? Colo-what? I don't know what that is. I don't know what you're saying about that."
I explained to her that it was the stuff you put on your body to make it smell good. She buys her body fragrances at Bath & Body Works...would she like to get dad some fragrances for himself? I pointed out sets of aftershave, gel and cologne. She seemed to look through what I was pointing at and instead of answering or acknowledging me, continued her search on the shelf for something more familiar to her that he would like.
We made our way to the candy section, where there were several displays of holiday treats. Mom kept talking about "that one kind of candy thing" that dad always liked. I asked her to tell me what it looked like, what is tasted like as I tried to figure out what she was talking about, but to no avail. She knew there was something that dad liked, but she couldn't quite figure out what that was. I picked up a box of Good 'n Plenty candies along with a box of Jujifruits. Those of 2 of dad's favorites; surely mom would recognize those! As I held them in front of her, she squinted her eyes and shook her head as she stuttered,
"No, no I'm not getting him that. I don't know what that is...I don't know that he would like that...I've never known that he likes that...that's not familiar to me..."
Despite my attempts to assure her that these were dad's favorites and that they would be perfect for his stocking, mom could not be convinced. I let out a sigh as I tossed the boxes of candies in my cart; if I had to buy them myself, dad would have them for his stocking.
As we continued aisle after aisle of candy and food, we ran into the sausage displays. This was sure to spark her memory! I remember every year, growing up, mom would buy dad some sausage for his stocking. She remembers the past so well...I was sure she'd know to buy him the sausage. Mom did not recognize what I was showing her.
"Mom, you used to buy this every year for dad...he loves it! He would love it if you got it for him. You could wrap it and put it under the tree," I said, over and over.
It was as if I wasn't even talking. She plugged along down the next aisle, me following behind, waving the sausage at her, when she suddenly stopped in front of the display of Goldfish crackers.
"He really likes these fishy things too, he eats them with all the kids too. He would like this," she said, as she tried to make a choice between regular flavor, or extra cheddar. I couldn't help but to chuckle.
"You want to get him goldfish crackers for Christmas?" I asked with amusement.
"Yeah he would really like it, he really likes them," she said, as she tossed them into the cart.
"What else do you want to get for him, mom?" I asked, as she led me through the next aisle. We were heading towards the household cleaning products; surely there was nothing up for gift considerations and we could pass through those aisles. I tried to redirect her down another path and turned to make my way towards the right section of the store.
But mom is fast. I turned around and she was gone. I knew she couldn't have gone far. I called her name, in vain, because she didn't answer me. I found her in the laundry detergent aisle, seemingly intent on something.
"They don't have that kind-the kind for the special kind that I have to buy...with those letters on it."
I knew what she meant. I led her to the other side of the aisle where the Gain 'he' (high efficiency) detergent sat on the shelves. She became excited and declared,
"Oh yes, oh good, they have it. Your dad really likes this one so much 'cuz it washes his work clothes so good too."
I wrinkled my eyebrows and looked at her as I tried to make sense of what she was saying.
"Mom, you don't mean that you are getting that for dad for Christmas, do you?"
"Huh?"
I rephrased the question,
"Mom, is that what you want to get dad for a Christmas present?"
"Yes I am, this is what he likes. I know he'll really like this too 'cuz it washes his clothes so good."
I tried to reason with her and suggest that you don't buy your husband a bottle of laundry detergent for Christmas. But mom would hear no reason. She was adamant that dad would love to receive laundry detergent for Christmas.
As she put the detergent in the cart, and we walked around the store a little more, I found a couple other things (in addition to his favorite candies) that I put into the cart, with several attempts at explaining why she should get these particular items for dad (mostly because it was something that I knew he would like). The answers were always the same,
"No, I'm not gonna get that, no. I don't know what that is...I'm confused at what that is...I don't know that he would like that."
She tried explaining to me something else that she wanted to add to his gifts.
"Those things you use, you put in the thing at the computer that you...with your hand," she explained, wiggling her hands in the air, "that you use with computer things too to make it work...you put it in things to make it work, your dad always needs those things too..."
Somehow I figured out that she was describing batteries. She wanted to get dad batteries. We walked around the store, looking for a section with batteries and before I could catch up with her, she ran ahead to the man behind the cash register in electronics (who was helping another lady check out) and tried to explain the things she was looking for. He looked very confused, as did the lady checking out, and as I approached my mom, I gently put my arm around her and explained to the cashier that she was looking for batteries. He looked at her and in some detail told her exactly where to go to find batteries. Mom hastily interrupted him and said,
"What? Register 10, what? I'm confused at what you're talking about, my brain is so stupid. Because of that surgery which left my brain stupid, I don't know what you're saying."
It always chokes me up to hear her call herself stupid and watch her struggle to realize that she cannot comprehend what others are telling her. I patted her back and told her it was okay, I knew where the batteries were. I led her to the front of the store, to Register 10, where we picked out a pack of batteries and took our place in line.
As we checked out with the cashier at the end of a very long hour, I was able to sneak the candy and another little item in with her selected gifts, with the intention of her using them for stocking stuffers. I was fully prepared to buy them myself if she threw a fit, but after much fuss she finally agreed on adding those 3 small things, with the condition that,
"Well then I'm gonna tell him when he opens it that you told me to get it, 'cuz I don't know that he likes that stuff."
I just laughed and said, "Okay mom, you can blame it all on me."
We drove home at 1:12 (which, she made sure to remind me, was way past her naptime) and went into the house where she immediately dumped the batteries, goldfishies, candy, and the other small item, into a gift bag which was behind the tree. (It also had the other gift she bought him the other day). She threw the plastic bag on top of the items, folded the top of the bag over in half, and stuffed it behind the Christmas tree. I reminded her that the candy was for his stocking, to which she replied,
"What? Stocking, what? I don't know what you're saying, stocking."
I let it go. It wasn't important anyway. What was important was that she had found him a gift. Maybe it's a bottle of laundry detergent and a pack of batteries. But they were gifts that she picked out, that she felt he would love. I'm not sure how he will react when he opens up his gifts. He might laugh. He might cry. He might do both. I know I certainly felt both reactions. But I also marvel at the childlike innocence that my mom possesses. It was a humbling reminder to me that Christmas is not about the fancy gifts or the shiny red bows. Christmas is about giving from the heart. My mom with dementia helped me to remember that this Christmas season.
My kids always get so excited at Christmas time. It goes without saying that they love to get presents. But they also love to GIVE presents. It is so hard for them to contain their excitement and patiently wait for us to open up whatever Christmas surprise they come up with for us. And we never know what we will get. One year, my daughter made me a necklace of mismatched beads on a strand of yarn. Every single day for 2 entire weeks before Christmas, she begged me to open it. She just knew it was a gift I would love! I wore it with pride. Many times, the kids will find treasures from their room that they will wrap up and give to us as gifts (I have a few of those under my tree right now!) I love their sweet innocence and the pride they have when they give us these gifts from the heart.
Last year, I went shopping with my mom to help her pick out Christmas gifts for all of the grandkids. She has always been great at picking out gifts on her own, but for obvious reasons she needed a little extra help. This year, she hasn't said much about gifts at all with the exception of once or twice when she told me "I need you to tell me what your children might like for Christmas." I knew it would be difficult for her to understand and pick out gifts on her own, even if I made a list and even if I was there with her. So last week, I took my dad (instead) shopping for Christmas presents for all of the grandkids and other family members.
As I wrapped and placed all of the presents under their tree, I realized that one person did not have any gifts under the tree: my dad. All of us kids got presents for dad, but for the first time I can remember, mom hadn't picked anything out for him.
Not that dad would care; he has always been the kind to think of others and never himself. Whenever we ask what he wants for Christmas, his reply is always the same,
"I don't need anything. Save it for the kids; it's about them."
Yesterday, when I was over at my mom's for the day, I asked her what she had gotten for dad for Christmas. She said that she had gone out shopping with my Aunt Claudia and got him something...I hate to write what it is, in case my dad did not follow directions and is reading this blog! But suffice it to say that it is something she buys frequently, which he would wear, so it is somewhat "routine" for her. I suggested we go out after lunch to Kmart (we didn't have much time between lunchtime and naptime to go anywhere father than Kmart, which is up the street) to pick out a few more things for dad. Surprisingly, she agreed.
I felt good; I was happy that I was able to convince her to get out and help her shop for dad! I didn't know how this would go, but I figured I would be able to find some things that I knew dad would like and be able to influence her on what to get.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
As we walked in the store, mom decided we should walk through every aisle and see what was there that he might like. We started at the beginning; although mom decided we could skip the card aisle because she didn't need to get him one of those. In the middle of the walkways were displays of colognes and body gels. I asked her if she thought he might like some cologne. It took me a couple of times of asking her before it registered to her that I was talking.
"Huh? Colo-what? I don't know what that is. I don't know what you're saying about that."
I explained to her that it was the stuff you put on your body to make it smell good. She buys her body fragrances at Bath & Body Works...would she like to get dad some fragrances for himself? I pointed out sets of aftershave, gel and cologne. She seemed to look through what I was pointing at and instead of answering or acknowledging me, continued her search on the shelf for something more familiar to her that he would like.
We made our way to the candy section, where there were several displays of holiday treats. Mom kept talking about "that one kind of candy thing" that dad always liked. I asked her to tell me what it looked like, what is tasted like as I tried to figure out what she was talking about, but to no avail. She knew there was something that dad liked, but she couldn't quite figure out what that was. I picked up a box of Good 'n Plenty candies along with a box of Jujifruits. Those of 2 of dad's favorites; surely mom would recognize those! As I held them in front of her, she squinted her eyes and shook her head as she stuttered,
"No, no I'm not getting him that. I don't know what that is...I don't know that he would like that...I've never known that he likes that...that's not familiar to me..."
Despite my attempts to assure her that these were dad's favorites and that they would be perfect for his stocking, mom could not be convinced. I let out a sigh as I tossed the boxes of candies in my cart; if I had to buy them myself, dad would have them for his stocking.
"Mom, you used to buy this every year for dad...he loves it! He would love it if you got it for him. You could wrap it and put it under the tree," I said, over and over.
It was as if I wasn't even talking. She plugged along down the next aisle, me following behind, waving the sausage at her, when she suddenly stopped in front of the display of Goldfish crackers.
"He really likes these fishy things too, he eats them with all the kids too. He would like this," she said, as she tried to make a choice between regular flavor, or extra cheddar. I couldn't help but to chuckle.
"You want to get him goldfish crackers for Christmas?" I asked with amusement.
"Yeah he would really like it, he really likes them," she said, as she tossed them into the cart.
"What else do you want to get for him, mom?" I asked, as she led me through the next aisle. We were heading towards the household cleaning products; surely there was nothing up for gift considerations and we could pass through those aisles. I tried to redirect her down another path and turned to make my way towards the right section of the store.
But mom is fast. I turned around and she was gone. I knew she couldn't have gone far. I called her name, in vain, because she didn't answer me. I found her in the laundry detergent aisle, seemingly intent on something.
"They don't have that kind-the kind for the special kind that I have to buy...with those letters on it."
I knew what she meant. I led her to the other side of the aisle where the Gain 'he' (high efficiency) detergent sat on the shelves. She became excited and declared,
"Oh yes, oh good, they have it. Your dad really likes this one so much 'cuz it washes his work clothes so good too."
I wrinkled my eyebrows and looked at her as I tried to make sense of what she was saying.
"Mom, you don't mean that you are getting that for dad for Christmas, do you?"
"Huh?"
I rephrased the question,
"Mom, is that what you want to get dad for a Christmas present?"
"Yes I am, this is what he likes. I know he'll really like this too 'cuz it washes his clothes so good."
I tried to reason with her and suggest that you don't buy your husband a bottle of laundry detergent for Christmas. But mom would hear no reason. She was adamant that dad would love to receive laundry detergent for Christmas.
As she put the detergent in the cart, and we walked around the store a little more, I found a couple other things (in addition to his favorite candies) that I put into the cart, with several attempts at explaining why she should get these particular items for dad (mostly because it was something that I knew he would like). The answers were always the same,
"No, I'm not gonna get that, no. I don't know what that is...I'm confused at what that is...I don't know that he would like that."
She tried explaining to me something else that she wanted to add to his gifts.
"Those things you use, you put in the thing at the computer that you...with your hand," she explained, wiggling her hands in the air, "that you use with computer things too to make it work...you put it in things to make it work, your dad always needs those things too..."
Somehow I figured out that she was describing batteries. She wanted to get dad batteries. We walked around the store, looking for a section with batteries and before I could catch up with her, she ran ahead to the man behind the cash register in electronics (who was helping another lady check out) and tried to explain the things she was looking for. He looked very confused, as did the lady checking out, and as I approached my mom, I gently put my arm around her and explained to the cashier that she was looking for batteries. He looked at her and in some detail told her exactly where to go to find batteries. Mom hastily interrupted him and said,
"What? Register 10, what? I'm confused at what you're talking about, my brain is so stupid. Because of that surgery which left my brain stupid, I don't know what you're saying."
It always chokes me up to hear her call herself stupid and watch her struggle to realize that she cannot comprehend what others are telling her. I patted her back and told her it was okay, I knew where the batteries were. I led her to the front of the store, to Register 10, where we picked out a pack of batteries and took our place in line.
As we checked out with the cashier at the end of a very long hour, I was able to sneak the candy and another little item in with her selected gifts, with the intention of her using them for stocking stuffers. I was fully prepared to buy them myself if she threw a fit, but after much fuss she finally agreed on adding those 3 small things, with the condition that,
"Well then I'm gonna tell him when he opens it that you told me to get it, 'cuz I don't know that he likes that stuff."
I just laughed and said, "Okay mom, you can blame it all on me."
We drove home at 1:12 (which, she made sure to remind me, was way past her naptime) and went into the house where she immediately dumped the batteries, goldfishies, candy, and the other small item, into a gift bag which was behind the tree. (It also had the other gift she bought him the other day). She threw the plastic bag on top of the items, folded the top of the bag over in half, and stuffed it behind the Christmas tree. I reminded her that the candy was for his stocking, to which she replied,
"What? Stocking, what? I don't know what you're saying, stocking."
I let it go. It wasn't important anyway. What was important was that she had found him a gift. Maybe it's a bottle of laundry detergent and a pack of batteries. But they were gifts that she picked out, that she felt he would love. I'm not sure how he will react when he opens up his gifts. He might laugh. He might cry. He might do both. I know I certainly felt both reactions. But I also marvel at the childlike innocence that my mom possesses. It was a humbling reminder to me that Christmas is not about the fancy gifts or the shiny red bows. Christmas is about giving from the heart. My mom with dementia helped me to remember that this Christmas season.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
The Leash
Have you ever been out in public and seen the moms with leashes on their kids? Are you one of those moms? I am. The idea of leashing children seems to spark controversy among some people. Before I was a mom, I was indifferent on the subject.
When my daughter was 2 years old, we were shopping at Target and she was adamant that she didn't want to sit in the cart. After several minutes of thrashing around, we finally compromised that she could get out of the cart as long as she was holding on. She was doing really well, until we started walking through the children's clothing section and she suddenly saw something that caught her attention. All it took was one second for her to let go of the cart (mind you I was right next to her and watching the entire time) and she was off running through the maze of clothing racks. I was pregnant at the time, and not as quick on my feet as I should've been; I circled around the rack to grab her and panicked when she wasn't there. I began calling her name and frantically weaving in and out of the compacted racks as my heart raced in my search for her. Finally, after about 45 seconds which seemed like much longer, a woman raised her arms and called to me that she was "over here".
Guess what my husband and I bought the next week? Judge all you want, but I will not take the chance of losing my child and the fight to keep them in the cart can make any shopping experience unbearable.
I thought about this idea of "the leash" as I took my mom to Wal-mart yesterday. It started out as any ordinary shopping trip with mom. As I was pulling into the parking lot, she reminisced about a parent of one of her students when she was a "teacher thing" who used to work at this Wal-mart. That should have been my red flag right there. We pulled into a parking spot, and as usual, I barely had time to put the car into park and mom had her seatbelt off, got out of the car and began power walking to the store. She was across the street and to the entrance of the store before I could even get my 2 boys out of the car. I quickly got the boys out of the car and made a mad dash to follow her before she could begin her shopping.
Shopping went as expected. She had a hard time finding the make-up that she wanted. Luckily, she brought the empty bottle of lipstick and half used pallette of eyeshadow with her, so it was easy enough to find it for her. When we got to the cleaner aisle, she became frustrated with me when I put Comet in her cart, even though my dad explained to her before we left that he wanted Comet versus the cleanser she's been buying, as it works better. It made no difference how many times I tried re-explaining it to her, she was not processing what I told her. I had to compromise; she could buy the other brand cleaner, but the Comet was to be bought for dad. After some resistance, and a distraction with Lysol, she finally gave in.
Things seemed to be going relatively well, we had made it through shopping without any incidences. And then we went down our final aisle. As I helped her find her "delicious" turkey lunchmeat, I told her it was now time to go check out at the register. A vendor was blocking the end of the aisle with large crates and he was unloading goods onto the shelves. I told him that I needed to get by and he graciously moved the crates out of my way. I glanced behind my shoulder just in time to see my mom at the opposite end of the aisle, turning the corner away from me. I quickly apologized to the man and turned my cart around, racing after her.
I found her in the layaway section. There was a younger, hispanic woman sitting in a chair at the counter, and an older, caucasion woman standing next to her, talking. I came up behind mom, who was staring at the hispanic woman, just in time to hear her mumbling,
"Is it you? No I don't think so..."
The two women looked at her with a very confused expression on their faces.
"Can we help you with something?" the older woman asked.
"I was looking for the one who starts with an 'm'", mom replied back. "Her name is the one that starts with an 'm' but I can't remember her name."
I put my arms around mom's shoulders and tried to redirect her.
"I don't think she works here anymore mom," I said, trying to turn her around. I glanced back at the two women who had a look of confusion and the hispanic woman almost had a look of disgust or annoyance on her face.
I quietly told them, "sorry, she has dementia," to which the older woman gave a kind smile. The hispanic woman still looked confused. Mom turned back around, looked at the women, and said,
"It's just so sad because I can't go visit her at her house anymore since they cancelled me as a driver."
The older woman gave a sympathetic look and I directed mom away and towards the cash register. I should've given them an "oops" card.
I'm not so sure about a leash for a grown woman, but I do think it's time to make her wear the ID bracelet that we bought for her at the LA County Fair this year. It's hard to get to this point and have to treat her as a child; I am sure there is some of reluctance with my dad to put the bracelet on her. She will resist, she will feel as though we are "picking" on her; it's difficult to have to take away independence from someone you love. Yet I feel like it's getting to the point where it is becoming necessary to take these precautions.
When my daughter was 2 years old, we were shopping at Target and she was adamant that she didn't want to sit in the cart. After several minutes of thrashing around, we finally compromised that she could get out of the cart as long as she was holding on. She was doing really well, until we started walking through the children's clothing section and she suddenly saw something that caught her attention. All it took was one second for her to let go of the cart (mind you I was right next to her and watching the entire time) and she was off running through the maze of clothing racks. I was pregnant at the time, and not as quick on my feet as I should've been; I circled around the rack to grab her and panicked when she wasn't there. I began calling her name and frantically weaving in and out of the compacted racks as my heart raced in my search for her. Finally, after about 45 seconds which seemed like much longer, a woman raised her arms and called to me that she was "over here".
Guess what my husband and I bought the next week? Judge all you want, but I will not take the chance of losing my child and the fight to keep them in the cart can make any shopping experience unbearable.
I thought about this idea of "the leash" as I took my mom to Wal-mart yesterday. It started out as any ordinary shopping trip with mom. As I was pulling into the parking lot, she reminisced about a parent of one of her students when she was a "teacher thing" who used to work at this Wal-mart. That should have been my red flag right there. We pulled into a parking spot, and as usual, I barely had time to put the car into park and mom had her seatbelt off, got out of the car and began power walking to the store. She was across the street and to the entrance of the store before I could even get my 2 boys out of the car. I quickly got the boys out of the car and made a mad dash to follow her before she could begin her shopping.
Shopping went as expected. She had a hard time finding the make-up that she wanted. Luckily, she brought the empty bottle of lipstick and half used pallette of eyeshadow with her, so it was easy enough to find it for her. When we got to the cleaner aisle, she became frustrated with me when I put Comet in her cart, even though my dad explained to her before we left that he wanted Comet versus the cleanser she's been buying, as it works better. It made no difference how many times I tried re-explaining it to her, she was not processing what I told her. I had to compromise; she could buy the other brand cleaner, but the Comet was to be bought for dad. After some resistance, and a distraction with Lysol, she finally gave in.
Things seemed to be going relatively well, we had made it through shopping without any incidences. And then we went down our final aisle. As I helped her find her "delicious" turkey lunchmeat, I told her it was now time to go check out at the register. A vendor was blocking the end of the aisle with large crates and he was unloading goods onto the shelves. I told him that I needed to get by and he graciously moved the crates out of my way. I glanced behind my shoulder just in time to see my mom at the opposite end of the aisle, turning the corner away from me. I quickly apologized to the man and turned my cart around, racing after her.
I found her in the layaway section. There was a younger, hispanic woman sitting in a chair at the counter, and an older, caucasion woman standing next to her, talking. I came up behind mom, who was staring at the hispanic woman, just in time to hear her mumbling,
"Is it you? No I don't think so..."
The two women looked at her with a very confused expression on their faces.
"Can we help you with something?" the older woman asked.
"I was looking for the one who starts with an 'm'", mom replied back. "Her name is the one that starts with an 'm' but I can't remember her name."
I put my arms around mom's shoulders and tried to redirect her.
"I don't think she works here anymore mom," I said, trying to turn her around. I glanced back at the two women who had a look of confusion and the hispanic woman almost had a look of disgust or annoyance on her face.
I quietly told them, "sorry, she has dementia," to which the older woman gave a kind smile. The hispanic woman still looked confused. Mom turned back around, looked at the women, and said,
"It's just so sad because I can't go visit her at her house anymore since they cancelled me as a driver."
The older woman gave a sympathetic look and I directed mom away and towards the cash register. I should've given them an "oops" card.
I'm not so sure about a leash for a grown woman, but I do think it's time to make her wear the ID bracelet that we bought for her at the LA County Fair this year. It's hard to get to this point and have to treat her as a child; I am sure there is some of reluctance with my dad to put the bracelet on her. She will resist, she will feel as though we are "picking" on her; it's difficult to have to take away independence from someone you love. Yet I feel like it's getting to the point where it is becoming necessary to take these precautions.
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