Mum went into the nursing home on Monday morning. I took Mum in, found her room, got her checked out by the nurse, and talked to the social worker, who found someone to get Mum juice and distract her while I faded away and went to talk to the team of people in charge and sign all the paperwork. I immediately felt relief and utter, utter exhaustion. I'm slowly pulling out from under it, and as I get less tired my guilt and anxiety about how and when to visit is growing. I am terrified that I will go back to find my mother angry and desperately demanding that I take her out. I know that isn't realistic, but it's another hurdle to overcome.
I'm going to call today and ask the staff how she's doing, but probably not visit until the weekend. I'll call Dad, too. We've been leaving him alone to give him some peace.
We're slowly digging our way out of the post-Christmas chaos physically, too. Yesterday the once a month housecleaner came, and now the floors aren't horrible any more, and I have enough room and mental space to really start cleaning. A few days ago I was heroically sorting the Lego from the Playmobil bits, and the boys were playing with Lego beside me, and somehow the length of the Christmas season came up. I explained that it lasted until the visit of the Wise Men, and sang the carol and explained the gifts, and when they still seemed to be paying attention I quoted and talked about most of the Eliot poem The Journey of the Magi. Nat especially seemed to be paying attention.
We're planning on a more organized assault on homeschooling in the New Year. We've gotten about as far in history as I wanted to, and science always takes care of itself, but I'm going to do more phonics with Thomas, and Geoff will keep up Math with Nat, plus adding some copywork and letter practice. We've been in holiday/survival mode for a couple of months, and it will be nice to have more of a routine again.