My mom chewing and spitting out her food

I keep seeing my mom change these days. Her memory is on the decline. She says hi to me multiple times within a five-minute span. She has incontinence issues and often doesn't know whether she needs to relieve herself.

As of late, I've noticed that she chews her food and spits it out. I don't know if she has now forgotten how to swallow or if she physically can't swallow solid food.

She is fine with drinking fluids. The worst case scenario would be to blend her foods and have her drink shakes.

She will chew fruit and spit it out. It's more textured foods that she doesn't seem to swallow.

It has been interesting. I can see how frustrated my dad is with her. It's a challenge to say the least.

My mom and her memory

I haven't been writing a whole lot here. I don't think it's because I have nothing to write about or that I'm lazy.

I haven't felt the need to write anything just yet.

It's likely because I'm still processing things. Trying to come to grips with my mom's memory loss is one of them.

She often opens and closes the front door. She'll bolt the door with the security chain lock without remembering that either my dad or I are about to return to the house. It's weird.

She will also open and close the washroom door on the main floor. It's a bit difficult to tell whether she needs to use the washroom and forgets to walk through the door, or if it's the same habit that she has with the front door.

Last Monday, she fell down in the washroom. My dad and I had to help get her off the floor. Thankfully, she doesn't fall down often. When she does, it's a bit scary. Luckily, she was fine.

Blog shift and my mom's deteriorating memory

I may shift the content focus on my blog down the road. 

I still don't have anything to write about that pertains to spanking. I don't have anyone to spank or administer one on me. Frankly, spanking hasn't been on my mind as much as it used to be.

Maybe it's the result of a not-so-great breakup and having the ex return wanting sex, but not a relationship. I thought that he was special and sweet. I was wrong.

My mom's memory is fading away. Today, she was watching some program on TV and managed to pause it.

I asked her why there wasn't any sound coming from the TV. She first said that the entire neighbourhood was experiencing a power outage. I let her know that there was a picture on the screen, so there was power. She then said that there was nothing on TV.

I found the remote and pressed the play button. Programming resumed.

It's weird how my mom will make excuses when asked a question, as if she's covering up something. I think it's more that she doesn't remember and she has to conjure up reasons that make sense to her. Her reasoning makes no sense to others.

Walking down grade 2 memory lane with a class photo

Back in early July, a friend reached out to me on a Facebook group. We were in grades 2 and 5 together. I haven't talked to her in decades. We messaged each other and caught up on our lives.

A few hours ago, she tagged me in our grade 2 class photo. There were some missing names. I managed to fill in the gaps, except for one person.

I shocked myself in that I could vividly spell people's names and it felt like I was in grade 2 again. My friend's memory is pretty good, too. Between the two of us, we produced a list of everyone in the photo, minus the one guy.

She said that she's grateful that she found me. Likewise!

My mom and her memory loss

For years, I have witnessed my mom's memory deteriorate. Yesterday, it took quite a dip that has left a lasting impression on me.

My mom talked to me and said that there was some man living in the same house. I had no idea who or what she was talking about.

This man was my dad. She didn't know that he was my mom's husband.

I said that this man was her hubby. She then replied that she didn't know that she was married. I asked her how I was born without a dad. She simply didn't know.

It was quite telling. However, when I asked her if she knew who I was, she immediately said both my first and last names.

It's such a shame seeing a great memory slowly deteriorate. It makes me a bit nervous, as I have a similar memory, I hope that I don't follow this same path.

I'm not sure how to deal with memory loss. Here's to more research. Perhaps having her look at old photos may be helpful. Then again, I don't want to frustrate her if she can't remember who the folks are in them.

Long week telling people to clear their browser cache

Long week. One more workday. Yay!

I find that working with software testers to be tedious. I'm often defending my work -- that my changes are correct and proving them wrong because they can't do something simple.

The other day, I had one tester tell me to remove a sentence. I told him that I had no idea what he was talking about. He presented his screenshot, which was a snapshot of our documentation from the night before. I showed him what I was looking at, which did not have that sentence. I even went once step further by saying that a particular setting was shown in his screenshot, but it's invalid and removed from mine.

Case closed. Sadly, it's a part of my job to tell people to clear their browser cache.

Getting rid of dry roses

When it was almost Valentine's Day nearly a decade ago, my ex-guy brought me a dozen roses. I loved the sweet gesture. I had the roses dried. They remained in a nice vase, on my desk, ever since.

A few days ago, I threw them away. It was time. It felt good.

I never got fresh flowers from him. It was a one-time deal. I suppose that's why I kept the roses for so long. I wanted to hold on to that special time.

I decided to let that special time go. The memories are fond, but they need to stay that way.

Memories of a tram and more

On Saturday afternoon, my guy called me. I missed his call by nine minutes. I was on the road, driving. I eventually pinged him and we chatted.

He is currently in Istanbul.

"Remember the tram that we took when we were on the Asian side of Istanbul?" he asked me.
"Yes, I do," I said, reminiscing.
"It's gone. Even the tracks have been covered up," he said, breaking the news.
"Oh, no. I liked that tram. You took a photo of me when we were on it. Now, that photo means more than ever," I replied.
"It sure does," he agreed.
"I remember your telling me about when you were a kid trying to hop on the train and it didn't end that great," I said.
"Yes, that's true," he laughed. "You have an amazing memory."
"Thanks, sweetie," I replied.

It's good that we both have fond memories of the city and more.

Catching up with an friend and having a secret admirer

I grew up in the Beaches area of Toronto. A high school friend of mine is in town and asked whether we could meet. It was nice that it didn't take much effort to figure out where to go and at what time we'd meet.

We chose a restaurant-pub that was a block away from where I had attended elementary school. We spent nearly four hours together catching up.

I haven't seen her since my last year from high school. She came to the school to visit and we chatted.

She told me that I look the same. She also noticed that I have a good memory and that I am naturally musical.

It's nice that, after all these years, it was effortless chatting and catching up with her.

I told my guy earlier on Tuesday that I'd be seeing her.

"I'd like to visit where you grew up," he told me.
"Sure, I can show you where everything is when you're back," I replied.
"That would be nice."

My guy is still feeling the effects of jet lag. Although he was sleepy, he sent me an e-card for Valentine's Day. He is sweet that way. Ever since we have been a couple, he sends me e-cards like clock work. This one had a penguin. He knows that I love penguins.

"I like how you addressed the card by secret admirer," I commented. "It took me a while to figure out who that was until I saw your e-mail address."

He chuckled.

V is for vivid memory and imagination

Recently, my guy and I went shopping at JC Penney in Seattle. He is always looking for a jacket or some nice article of clothing to wear. He likes to look good for work.

We were looking at jackets that were marked down. They looked nice, but the fabric didn't feel nice. We both like corduroy and looked at a jacket made of that material.

"I have one already," he said to me. "It's a corduroy one in brown."
"I know," I replied. "You wore it in Stockholm. One night, after dinner, I was cold. You let me wear it."
"You have such a great memory," my guy remarked.
"Thanks. Your jacket fit me, except that I couldn't button it up because my boobs got in the way. If I didn't have boobs, I would have been able to button your jacket up," I replied, which made him laugh.
"I am glad that you have boob," he said, grinning.
"Yes. I love when you play with them."

A couple of weekends ago, I went out with a friend and was driving her home. She told me that there was a guy cooking in his kitchen apartment and he was naked.

In a way, I was glad that I had my eyes on the road, instead of on that naked guy.

Isn't cooking in front of a stove dangerous when you're nude? As a man, you could get your manhood caught in the fridge door or burned by accident. If you're frying something in the pan, oil can platter on you.

Of course, I'd love to see my guy naked all the time. However, I don't want him injured that way in the kitchen.

A is for amazement

Today is the first day of Blogging Challenge - Spanking from A to Z. The idea is to blog 26 times about anything, whether it is spanking-related or not, but day 1 (today) starts with the first letter of the alphabet, second day with B, and so on.

I have chosen amazement as my theme. My guy uses that word often. What amazes him? My memory.

My guy thinks that I remember everything. The other day, he told me that he played soccer on the weekend with friends that he hasn't seen in a while. He confessed that he hadn't played soccer in years, but had a lot of fun.

I told him that I remembered a picture of him wearing baby blue shorts, and a light blue and white t-shirt. He looked athletic in that photo, even though he was about to paint a wall. I just had that image of him wearing something similar while playing soccer.

He told me that he could barely remember that photo. He had shown me that at least 1.5 years ago. We were in the treehouse, looking at all the photos on his phone after some intimate time together.

On Sunday, we were talking on Skype. He told me that he had to look up the address of where he was going the following day. He is on a business trip in Croatia for the next few days.

"Aren't you at the same place that you were last year?" I asked him.
"Yes," he said. "But, I don't have your memory where I have the address memorized or the contact's name."
"That was nine months ago," I said.
"Exactly," he replied. "For you, that was yesterday. For me, it was eons ago."

Although it may sound like my guy is annoyed with me, he actually appreciates the memory that I have. I remember terminal numbers at airports without consulting a piece of paper. He told me that I save him a lot of time when we travel.

"We need to go on another trip together," I hinted.
"Yes, I would love to have you as my travel companion."

Travelling is fun, especially with him. We create a ton of memories. We don't necessarily have to remember them. We always have photos and fun triggers that help us relive those moments.

Spelling and grammar mistakes? That's a paddlin'!

I write for a living. I ended up in this profession by accident. I have no regrets. It has been a wonderful accident.

Yesterday, I came across this lovely photo on a Facebook page. It triggered a memory from my childhood.

In grades 1 and 2, I had the same homeroom teacher. In grade 2, towards the end of the school year, she gave us what seemed to be the mother of all spelling tests. What she said to us a day or two before the test day was the following:

"If you make three mistakes or more, you know what you'll get? The smacks."

Now, it sounds like I am ancient. I don't think that I am. However, if a teacher said that these days, it wouldn't been acceptable.

This teacher was special. I probably have mentioned that she was the one who spanked me lightly for finishing my math exercises faster than she had expected. She then hugged me after she was done patting my backside. Perhaps that is one reason why I like being hugged and cuddled after being spanked these days.

Anyway, I did make more than three mistakes on my spelling test back in grade 2. I had secretly hoped to get my fair share of smacks, but that never happened. However, it would be a perfect role-playing scenario to act out with my guy. Making grammatical errors would also be perfect for my backside to be paddled, too.