Dementia Caregiving When You’re Exhausted: How “Shake It, Sassy Ass” Keeps Me Going
Vibes‑Only Caregiving: Shake It, Sassy Ass
The Other Battle Cry (When Oooof Isn’t Enough)
Oooof is the sound we make when the day sits heavily on our chest.
“Shake it, sassy ass” is what we say when we decide to stand up anyway.
In this house of memory care and upside‑down, sideways short‑term memory loss, we’ve got two main settings:
OOOF – for the grief, the loops, the holy‑shit‑how‑is‑this-my-life moments.
Shake it, sassy ass – for when we’re late, we’re tired, and we’re still going to find a way to move.
This isn’t about toxic positivity.
This is about micro‑movement in a life that can feel like quicksand.
It’s the quiet decision to say:
“If I’m going to drown, I’m at least going to shark-week my way toward the shallow end.”
When You’re Late, Tired, and Still Responsible for a Whole Human
“Shake it, sassy ass, we are late.”
That’s not just a cute phrase.
That’s me, in the hallway, holding:
meds
keys
a purse she hasn’t recognized in years
a schedule none of the spectators can see
and the weight of being the one‑and‑only human responsible for getting her from bed to car to appointment without a meltdown.
Sometimes she laughs.
Sometimes she rolls her eyes.
Hell, sometimes she gives me a middle finger, two middle fingers and tells me were my bossy bitch ass can go with my sassy mouth.
Sometimes she looks at me like I’m speaking a different language.
But the rhythm is the same:
Call in the sass.
Borrow the energy.
Move the bodies.
smile big
Give the energy you want her to mimic and feels familier!!! Give it, it feels good, we win…shes here to play shes here for the audition. shes gonna nail this role!!!
Hot tip, spicy vibes: You don’t have to feel motivated to act. Sometimes the line you repeat becomes the ignition.
“Shake it, sassy ass” is my ignition. The reaction I get tells the temp of the room, and I can read energy…What I want, I exhibit. What I need, I say in a way she appreciates and leans in on the wit and humor.. the games a foot and sherlock would be curious and proud.
The Tiny Rituals That Trick Your Brain Into Moving
The world loves to talk about morning routines, ritual baths, and curated self‑care.
Cool.
My reality looks more like:
A two‑minute pep talk while she looks for the perfect shirt or sweater to go with the favorite sweat pants and the beloved loafers….
A playlist that lives on repeat because she likes the same three stories and anything new is chaos.
The same joke every day: “If you can shake it, we can make it.”
These tiny rituals are not glamorous.
They are survival.
They convince my:
fried nervous system
ADHD brain
grief‑heavy heart
that we can do one more transition, even if we don’t know what comes after it.
“Shake it, sassy ass” is less about speeding it up and more about micro‑rebellion against a complete shutdown.
Hot tip, spicy vibes: Build a 30‑second ritual you can do on autopilot when your brain has checked out.
Some starters:
One phrase you say out loud.
One tone that will set the fun energy needed.
One physical cue: micro snaps like your favorite reality star looking for 20 seconds of fame.
You’re not trying to become a new person.
You’re trying to convince your current one to keep going for two more minutes.
When the Plan Bites it (Again), and You Still Have to Move
You know that moment when you’ve lined up:
meds
snacks
hydration
the exact right time window
and a small army of vibes
…and then:
she refuses shoes
the energy tanks
the doctor is suddenly running 90 minutes behind
and somebody texts, “I’ll swing by later? It worked for us before.,”
OOOF.
That’s when the plan bites.
That’s when I take one yoga breath, look at her, and say:
“Okay, spicy ass. let’s shake it..”
I’m not asking her to suddenly be flexible.
I’m reminding myself I can:
drop the original plan
invent a new one
and still not shatter
Hot tip, spicy vibes: When the plan tanks, don’t waste energy trying to resuscitate it.
Ask instead:
What still actually matters right now?
What can I drop without anyone dying?
What’s the smallest move that keeps us pointed toward “okay”?
Let the old plan die.
Shake what’s left.
Shake It vs. Shatter: Knowing Which One You’re Doing
Caregivers get praised for “doing it all.”
I call bullshit.
A lot of us are not “doing it all.” We’re:
dissociating
overfunctioning
running on fumes and caffeine
trying not to scream into a towel at 2 a.m.
There’s a difference between shaking and shattering.
Shaking looks like:
adjusting a plan
texting the doctor to move the appointment
microwaving something for dinner instead of cooking from scratch
sporting a fucking ponytail for 4 ½ years, from a short rocker-chic pixie 9 levels lighter than my natural.
Shattering looks like:
rage‑crying in the corner of the bay window
snapping at your dog for something they literally don’t understand
going numb and not realizing you skipped food and liquids other than coffee again for like 22 hours… ooof
“Shake it, sassy ass” is my internal check‑in. I can do this, we aren’t gonna live in memeory hell today… no no and fucking helll to the damn no.
Am I gently shaking this day into a new shape?
Or am I cracking in half and calling it a dance?
Hot tip, spicy vibes: If your version of “shaking it” regularly ends in emotional hangovers, you’re not shaking. You’re shattering.
That’s your cue to:
cancel something
ask for backup
or lower the bar so far it’s underground.
Borrowing Her Sass When You Have None Left
I call her Spicy Sassy Ass N. for a reason.
Even in the Alzheimer’s bubble, even in the:
resets
loops
questions on repeat
“Wait, where are we going again?”
…she will still sometimes turn, look me dead in the eye, and say something so sharp I have to lean on the counter to process it.
She doesn’t remember:
who called yesterday
what we had for dinner
how many times she asked the same question
But she remembers how to be spicy.
So I borrow it. Master it and help her remember that I'm actually mimicking her, my mom…I’m giving as good as she used to and still can…with a bit of coaxing
If she can find a way to sass me from inside a memory‑loss bubble, I can find a way to move my own ass from the kitchen to the car.
Hot tip, spicy vibes: Let your person’s remaining spark be a permission slip, not a guilt trip.
Instead of:
“If she can still laugh, I should be doing more.”
Try:
“If she can still laugh, I’m allowed to laugh with her—and let that be enough for today.”
When Spectators Think “Shake It” Means “Show Up For Them”
Spectators love a caregiver with energy.
Not the energy we actually have.
The energy they imagine:
always available
always texting back
always ready for drop‑ins and updates
always willing to host their guilt visits
No.
When I say shake it, I don’t mean:
shake my schedule to make room for your last‑minute feelings
shake my boundaries so you can feel better about not visiting
shake off your accusations that I’m “controlling access” while you sit comfortably on the sidelines #asyouwishaf #😘
I mean:
I will shake my ass just enough to keep this human safe, clean, fed, and relatively calm. Quality of life and master classes of spicy fun, sassy vibes, and positivity as much as we can for as long as we can. Try me, I fucking dare you, rock this vibe today, unlike what was done for so many years before. #blessit #holdmahbeer
That’s it.
Hot tip, spicy vibes: Your energy is for caregiving, not crowd control.
You’re allowed to:
Say no to extra visitors
Ignore the guilt‑trip texts
Let calls go to voicemail
Read a message and respond tomorrow, or never
If it doesn’t help you keep your promise, it doesn’t get your energy.
Turning “We’re Late” Into “We Made It”
Here’s the real magic of “shake it, sassy ass”:
It’s not about being on time.
It’s about getting there at all.
Caregiving wins rarely look like:
perfect schedules
Instagram‑worthy meals
spotless houses
every appointment made on the dot
They look like:
we got out the door without a full‑body meltdown
she took her meds within the right-ish window
she laughed once in the car
I only cried after she fell asleep
Showing up late is still showing up.
Sitting in the parking lot for five minutes to breathe before you walk her in is still showing up.
Rescheduling because your nervous system is on fire is still showing up.
Hot tip, spicy vibes: Redefine “showing up” as anything that keeps both of you out of harm’s way.
On some days, that’s a full shower, appointment, and hot meal.
On other days, it’s brushing teeth, changing underwear, and watching the same show for 9 ish hours.
Both count.
A Tiny Shake‑It Script for the Days You Want to Quit
For the days when even “Oooof” feels like too many syllables, here’s a bare‑bones script you can steal:
To yourself, in the mirror or on the toilet:
“Okay, sassy ass. We’re not doing the whole list. We’re doing one thing.”
To your person:
“Hey, we’re gonna try one little thing together. Then we rest.”
To spectators (if they text):
“Busy keeping her safe today. Can’t talk. She’s okay.”
That’s it.
No lecture.
No five‑paragraph essay.
Just enough language to:
keep your person calm
keep you on task
keep the spectators out of your lane
If Your Ass Feels Glued to the Couch
If you’re reading this with:
a cold cup of coffee
a heavy heart
and a brain that’s done for the day by 10 a.m.
…I see you.
You are not lazy.
You are not failing.
You are not “too sensitive” or “too dramatic.”
You are a caregiver in a system that was never built for you.
So today, if all you can manage is:
one load of laundry half‑folded
one pill organizer refilled
one appointment confirmed
or one quiet, whispered “shake it, sassy ass” as you walk down the hall
—that’s enough.
Hot tip, spicy vibes: The bar for “enough” in caregiving needs to live so low it trips over your ankles.
You are allowed to step over it half‑awake and still call it a win.
Vibes‑Only, Always (Shake Included)
If “shake it, sassy ass” hit something in you—the part that’s bone‑deep tired and still moves anyway—you’re my people.
You can keep exploring:
Vibes‑Only Caregiving: The Things That Make You Go Oooof – for the days when everything feels like too much.
Vibes‑Only Caregiving: The Small Wins That Save Us – for tiny victories that keep you from shattering.
Vibes‑Only Caregiving, Part Two: When Showing Up Is the Win – for the reminder that presence beats perfection every time.
And if you need words when yours are gone:
Caregiver Script Kit – for texts, boundaries, and responses when spectators won’t read the room.
This Shit Is Bananas series – for when you need to feel less bananas in a world that keeps gaslighting caregivers.
Vibes‑only, always.
Oooof.
And also:
Shake it, sassy ass. We’ve got one more tiny move in us today.
