Hug somebody you love…
Watch Your Step
We are headed to dinner. Full Speed decides he wants to wear an Ohio State pull-over hoodie. No big deal, he just needs to remove his glasses before I help him tug it over his head and arms. He of course carefully places his glasses on the floor right next to where he and T.Puzzle are standing. I quickly admonish him and tell him to hurry up and put his glasses somewhere that they won’t get stepped on. He scrambles to them, scoops them up and races over to the stairs. He then proceeds to gently place them on the lowest step.
Not exactly what I meant.
Mommy Brain
Picture this: a skillet with a sizzle of butter coating it; that’s your brain. Then, an unexpectedly large egg containing what used to be your independence and your short-term memory cracks open and falls into this skillet. Within seconds the egg’s contents are fried beyond recognition. This is your brain. This is your brain on motherhood.
I may have mentioned the effects of what I like to call ‘Mommy Brain’ in previous posts, but honestly, I can’t remember. Ever since I have given birth the first time well over five years ago, my ability to remember details and locate keys has decreased substantially. I know I appear completely incompetent when my babysitter comes to the house. I can’t find my keys, my phone or my sanity. It is an unfortunate running joke between us. I’m not sure if she realizes it is an extreme case of “Mommy Brain” or if she just thinks I’m crazy.
Of course “Mommy Brain’ starts with what everyone calls ‘Baby Brain’. Anyone who has cared for a newborn, even if only for a few short hours, can relate to this phenomenon. You can’t remember anything. You are so tired and overwhelmed that you count yourself lucky if you can remember the baby’s name. This was very difficult for me being the consummate ‘Type A’ and a perfectionistic scheduler. Eventually, I adjusted to my loss of organization and assumed it would return as my children aged. It has to some extent but it has never been the same. I wonder, is it lost for good? Thus, the invention of the term ‘Mommy Brain’.
Here’s an excellent example of “Mommy Brain’. I cannot count the number of times I leave my lock attached to a locker at the gym. I’ll walk into the locker room, search frantically through my bag for it and find that it is hanging on the locker that I used over a week ago. Fortunately, the members of my gym are honest and it’s always exactly where I left it. I appreciate their honesty because it is the type of lock that you line up the numbers (the dial kind cause me too much anxiety due to past traumas they caused during high school) and my combination is always clearly displayed as the open lock swings loosely from last week’s locker.
Let me know about your own experiences with ‘Mommy Brain’. Does it ever go away? Does it only relate to motherhood or is it just an unfortunate part of the aging process? I would love to hear your stories.
Piece of Cake
This happened a couple of days ago and was bumped because of all of little T.Puzzle’s exciting allergy news. As you know, Mad Dog was out of town for a training. To help me get through the week, our babysitter came to help one evening. She stayed home with T.Puzzle and I took Full Speed to karate with the older and higher ranking kids. After that, we went on a ‘date’.
He was so excited to go out with just me. We went to Ruby Tuesday’s and he handled himself fairly well. There was a point that he spastically kicked the table (you know he can’t sit still, ever) and it almost flipped over. And then there was the inappropriate comment he made about a smelly, body function. I had to sternly tell him I expected more from him and to not talk silly at the table. Other than that, it was quite enjoyable. We discussed what he is learning at school (which according to him is a lot because apparently he knows EVERYTHING) and we named the shapes of all the light fixtures (some were big and round and reminded Full Speed of cake).
When our meal was over I told him we could get dessert. His face lit up with joy. I read off the choices and he immediately chose the double chocolate cake. I told him that on a date, a gentlemen, if in agreement with his lady friend, should order when the waiter comes to the table. He was very serious about ordering the cake and was delighted to know we would get ice cream with it.
The manager came out to ask us how our meal was. He had heard that we were on a date. He asked Full Speed if he was going to pay. “I can’t pay. I’m not even an adult!” he said.
“Maybe you could go to the back and wash dishes instead,” said the manager.
“Okay,” said Full Speed. It surprised me that he was so easily compliant. He was very cute (Full Speed, not the manager, just to be clear).
When the cake arrived, Full Speed immediately dove in. He was stabbing the cake with glee and managing to get enormous chunks on his fork and somehow ably shoving these entire pieces into his little mouth. Cake was everywhere.
If the amount of mess Full Speed left on the table was any indicator of how much fun we had, then I can safely say, it was a complete success.
Pancakes and Cookies
My day with T.Puzzle has been very exciting. First of all, Mad Dog came home late last night (a nice surprise) and was able to make pancakes for breakfast. I couldn’t believe that little T.Puzzle ate his pancakes without one allergy symptom. He even said, “Pancakes are good, Daddy.”
I then took him to Publix and he got his first ever cookie there. I was so excited I wanted to cry. Up to this point he has been a good sport as Full Speed chomped away on his Publix cookie and waited until we reached the deli for his sample. Somehow a turkey slice isn’t nearly as interesting as a cookie with sprinkles.
It was surreal to wander the isles and realize that nothing is going to be off limits. I still can’t believe he didn’t have one hive or any indicator of his previous egg allergy. He is free and clear. I even bought a bag of frozen corn dogs, not because they are healthy, but because I could.
Another great day, indeed!