Mothering Theresa (#971)

Mothering Theresa

Theresa is like a child—I am now her mother—she had strawberries 🍓 she was going to eat and Brussel sprouts—the strawberries had mold on them and I got her to throw them out and black spots on the sprouts

I feel like I have to watch everything she’s doing or like in this case—she’ll make herself sick 🤢

I like helping her—but this is next level—if she ate either of those two things she would be sick—and that would be worse

She throws out a lot of stuff—and now I make her throw out a lot of stuff.

The kitchen trash can is right outside my door—I moved the trash to the can by the front door 🚪 I don’t want bugs that close to my room—especially if I’m going to leave the door open…

I shouldn’t have to close my door for THAT reason.

At least she listens—and doesn’t fight me on the things I suggest she does.

Hygiene has nothing on her—it’s trashing food and the flowers she brought home without a vase. Friday and Saturday the trash valet doesn’t come—she brought the flowers home Friday afternoon

I put them on the table—she had them in the sink—they were all wet…At least on the table they stay dry???

I’m having to remember all these things from a long time ago—not that I mind helping—I can keep an apartment clean.

But, I do feel like her mother or a mentor (that’s better in my mind) because she can’t do for herself—I don’t mind helping if she’s going to leave things out and get herself sick—no one wants that…

I’m usually pretty calm with her—that’s why she listens—that’s all I got for this moment.