I have to give kudos to my friend Karen for the idea for this post. See, last week on Facebook she posted her frustration about trying to go to the bank and not being able to find it. Turns out she was a block away and finally wondered if it was early Alzheimer’s or just the Mom Brain. Thanks, lady! You’re my inspiration today!
Sweetie, it’s the Mom Brain. We all get it sooner or later. It’s inevitable. The Mom Brain is the reason I have the ‘Take Me to My Car’ app on my phone. Yes, there really is one. Check it out. But I’m notorious for having so much on my mind at any given moment that my brain just kicks out the location of my car in any parking lot. Seriously. And since I don’t drink I can’t blame it on alcohol. It just is what it is. The Olympic feat of trying to go to the grocery store, Walmart, Target, or anywhere else with kids – with or without stroller, etc. – has become too much and my brain can’t handle it all. So it decides to ‘forget’ what it considers unimportant. Usually the location of my car. And that’s a problem when you’re leaving the store with cart, bags and minions in tow – usually when they’re arguing or whining. A quick exit would be ideal.
The kicker? I used to have a pretty good memory. Really. Almost photographic. The Spouse has a freakishly accurate memory, so that always made disagreements more interesting. We should have sold ringside tickets. “You left the toilet seat up exactly seventeen times last month!” ‘No, actually it was fifteen, and the first three of those were actually the last day of last month.’ You think I’m kidding? I’ve said it before – I can’t make this stuff up. Really.
Anyhoo, growing the minions must have sucked up more than a few brain cells along the way. My ability to remember my to-do list for the day fell apart. Granted, I always write down my to-do list – just because I’m Type A enough to enjoy crossing things off the list – but the minions moved my cheese and there was suddenly much more to keep track of. Need diapers, stat. Add it to the list. Only I’d tell myself that I’d add it to the list as soon as I finished XXX (insert random housekeeping, work-related or kid-rearing task here). Guess what? That’s right, folks. I would forget to add it to the list. I tried telling the Spouse, ‘Remind me to add XX to the list.’ Guess what? I would forget that he reminded me, or he’d choose a really bad time for his reminder. Men – choosing the ONE time your wife/girlfriend is in the shower for more than five minutes at a stretch (which is unheard of with babies) is probably NOT the best time for a memory check. She’s not listening to you. Or anyone. No offense, guys. Just the facts.
My next step? I resorted to carrying post-it’s with me. So I could write down those random to-dos whenever they hit me. Guess what? I STARTED FORGETTING WHERE I PUT THE FREAKING POST-ITS AFTER I WROTE ON THEM!!
And now, ten years after minion #1 was born, the Mom Brain is getting worse. I could forget a conversation we had ten minutes ago. Why? Not because I wasn’t listening, but because my stinking’ brain is just so used to thinking about a million things a mile a minute that there’s not enough room in there. Something’s got to go. I really feel for my kids in about ten years. They’ll probably have to tattoo a map of the house on my arm so I can find the bathroom.
So no, Karen – it’s not early Alzheimer’s. Unless we’ve both got it. What about you all? What are your symptoms? What’s the cure for the Mom Brain??