Mommy Brain

My name is...ummm...err...Jennifer, that sounds right, yes I'm Jennifer and I have mommy brain syndrome or MBS. It started back when I was pregnant with DD and has been gaining momentum ever since. It is so bad that I am quite sure that if I were ever in an accident that rendered me unconscious or otherwise speechless and in the hospital I fear being pronounced VOA (vegetable on arrival) as I am sure they would discover a flatline where waves of brain activity should be.
On more occasions than I would like to disclose I have found myself walking from one side of the house to the other with purpose in my step only to arrive at my destination unsure of my motivation for being there.

It doesn't stop there my friends, I continually find myself on desperate searches around the house looking for items that I had in my grips not even 60 seconds earlier and then accuse my poor children of conspiracy.
Or if it's not forgetting what I am doing or where I put something it's forgetting to do something. I might not realize I haven't put the wet clothes in the dryer until I have scoured the whole house like a blood hound searching for the source of a putrid odor only to discover it's what used to be my freshly laundered clothes.

The other day I hit an all time low when after setting the alarm and herding the kids to the car I get myself almost buckled in when I realized I wasn't wearing a shirt! Really?? Now, I was going to the gym so arriving in only a sports bra would not have been a completely inappropriate but it is the closest I have come to being issued a declaration of insanity.

I know I'm not the only one out there with MBS. There's got to be other people who put the milk in the pantry and the oatmeal in the fridge right? The same people who spend 20 minutes looking for the phone and then can't remember who to call. There must be other otherwise my coping mechanism is not going to pan out. For now I am just going to keep telling myself it's normal and tear up the fliers they send me from the sanatorium.

So who's with me? Admitance is the first step to recovery you know. So if you feel me leave a comment about one of your memorable bouts of what we all know to be temporary lunacy. At least we hope.

UFC

I have 2 beautiful,smart,loving children who are the sunshine in my universe, who give purpose to my day and who follow me wherever I go just to make sure I'm okay. At least I think that's what they're doing when they follow me to the bathroom, the bedroom, the laundry room, the kitchen, the broom closet... you get the idea.

My point is they are wonderful children but they have their moments...lots of them in fact. So many that my suspicion is that my children recently received notice that there is a casting call for a couple of new UFC fighters for the pee wee division without telling me and they are taking their commitment to be the best very seriously. Therefore, just to make sure they are able to enter the first round of try outs with all their extremities I am standing in as the referee.

This situation, while not unusual, is a bit curious as they only want to "practice" at home. They must not be ready for their big debut just yet because they are posing as gentle, civilized, courteous and accommodating little tots when under the care of others. How do they think they will make it in the UFC ring if they are not dedicated 24/7 to their "sport"?
You can imagine how hard it is for me to hear how wonderful they are, how polite, how helpful to each other and how well behaved they are when their future as ultimate fighters is on the line. I guess I am just going to have to put my foot down and demand that they retire before they have even made a name for themselves because I won't stand for mediocrity.

seclusion

So, I've been without a computer for the past week and as a result have been forced to do things like feed the children, change their clothes, and clean the house. My link to the world has been cut off, severed, forever removed! Or at least until someone (preferably a computer hardware genius)steps forward who comprehends the gravity of the situation and volunteers to fix my computer for the sheer pleasure of helping a helpless (and pennyless)mother or until I have sold enough of my sweet children's toys and my dear husband's belongings that I can fund a new one.
In the meantime I will continue to cry myself to sleep at night and continue asking permission (okay, okay sneaking around)to use my husband's computer, which I am to understand is a superior machine and should not be used by just anyone and should certainly not to be used for things like blogging about said superiority.
I can't help myself though. How can I be expected to homeschool my child, create delectable meals, arrange playdates, and read my horoscopes without access to the world wide web???

The big move

Since I am here to document milestones I have to mention a big change that occured in our household this week. It was neither planned nor pleasant for me, the mommy, the one who spent 9 months literally attached to each of my children and then emotionally and somewhat physically attached to them ever since.
Yes, we (and I use we loosely) decided it was time to reclaim our bedroom and move the kids to their own room.
This was no easy task for me , the mommy, the one who carried them for 9 months etc.,etc...
So I tried to plead my case:
"but I can't sleep without them!"
"what if one of them gets sick?"
"what if there is a fire?"
"they can't go on without me!"
"they will pitch a fit!"

"They will be fine" says DH, apparently he doesn't remember the Discovery Channel show we watched about the Burmese python that crawls into a baby's crib at night and squeezes him to death while the parents down the hall are in the middle of their REM cycle.

C'mon! Who is going to watch over my babies? Whose angelic face will I gaze into with one eye open as I stumble into the bathroom in the middle of the night? Who is going to drool on my pillow and fill up my bed with action figures and pointy objects?

All of this is either coming out of my mouth or going through my head as we prepared for the first night of eternal separation. I got a knot in my stomach as we did out pre-bedtime routine and prepared myself for the worst. Then, we put them both in their beds and leave their room quickly before I can change my mind and so I can go seek professional help.

A few minutes later as I am waiting for the crying to start and secretely hoping it wouldn't work out I peek my head in just to see how long it will be before I can drag their beds back down the hall and I find that they are both asleep!
Oh the betrayal! They need me! How can they do this to me? They have forgotten about me already and they're still in diapers and princess panties!

Next thing you know I will be moving them into a college dorm and asking them if they think there's room for a cot for me. Nothing fancy, just a little place in the corner where I can listen to them sleep while I plot a way to let me live with them forever.

It's a cinch...

After dreaming of being a stay at home mom since my oldest was born 4 1/2 years ago the day is finally here. This means I am going to have all kinds of time on my hands now right? Of course, because I can get the kids to do most of the cooking, cleaning, washing, organizing, teaching and driving around right? They can even order each other around while I kick my heels up, push my cuticles back and highlight the best programs in the t.v guide. Sounds like just what the doctor ordered...

So, one day while contemplating whether I wanted to watch Springer or the People's Court and otherwise enjoying a lazy afternoon I realized that I was depriving my friends and family by not sharing all the intimate details of our lives with them. Therefore, I decided I must blog. Well, and also so I can document all those important milestones in my children's lives in a more practical way since the pages in their well intentioned baby books are as blank as they came. As a result, much to my dismay, if someone asks me how long they were, when did they first pass gas or what was the color of their first poop I feel forced into making up something really impressive because what kind of mommy can't produce answers to such crucial inquiries?