I Have Problems

I feel like I need to issue an apology to everyone I come in contact with. I have no good excuse, but I think I’ve become a very rude person. I don’t intend to be mean or impolite, by any means, but it happens –way more often than I care to admit.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I am not pushing people down stairs or stealing candy from small children. But I do ignore people. I forget to say hello or goodbye. I don’t ask about important events or how everyone is doing. Even on occasion, I will walk right past someone without even acknowledging their presence until a bit after the fact.

This has nothing to do with my shy, awkward introverted personality.
The problem seems to be that my brain no longer functions properly.

Do you know how many times I get home at night and think, “Oh crap! I forgot to even tell someone I was leaving!” Or I get so deep in thought that I can’t seem to see anything past my imagination. It’s almost as if the “baby brain” I had during my pregnancies never left at all (or dare I say, got immeasurably worse with each day of raising said babies!). I might even be a slight menace to society. But I do promise I am not being intentionally rude or self-seeking. That is certainly not my intention!

So, I am very sorry if I have ignored you when you’ve said hello. I feel terrible if I never came to say hello or forgot to wish you a happy birthday outside of your Facebook wall. Forgive me if I go off into a creepy glazed-over stare instead of responding to your posed question. My brain is not itself and I am deeply sorry.

Hopefully, I will regain control someday. But until then−

Just A Typical Day

Do you ever have one of those days where you just feel like your mind wants to escape your body and run away from home? Yeah, me too.

It was a fairly standard day here in our house. Both of the children are recovering from another round of colds so I tried to get them to camp out for a movie and have a little extra resting time. That did not work. They ran around, terrorizing the recently cleaned living room and finding any and every possible way to hurt themselves and each other. I even sustained injury a few times when my dear, sweet little girl issued a powerful headbutt during a temper tantrum.

As usual, the stupid dishes didn’t wash themselves. The stink bugs continued to invade the property. Snot still found its way onto the armrest of the couch. The bathroom floor received its usual drenching of propelled bathwater. Crumbs of every make and model kept decorating the carpet, even after I instructed them not to on multiple occasions. Drinks still spilled, toes were still stubbed, laundry still accumulated.

Yes, it was a typical day, indeed. In my usual attempt to combat anger and frustration, I did the only logical thing. I ate the entire family-sized bag of animal crackers and sucked down a whole pot of coffee. Nothing else seemed appropriate in this sort of situation.

When the guilt set in from the aforesaid indulgence, I simply corrected the problem by logging on to Pinterest and pinning the very best of the Health and Fitness boards. It helped, I swear.

By the time baths were done, cleaning was completely given up on, and my husband arrived home from work, I was ready to beat my head against a wall –something I have very literally done before after typical days like this, but not something I ever want to make a habit out of due to the consequences of the action. Luckily, my husband suggested that we sit outside and watch the storm roll in.

With a freshened cup of coffee in hand, we looked at the purple sky and listened to the rolling thunder in the clouds while sitting silently in the cool breeze and you know what? It was perfect. When I’m in the midst of experiencing a moment of utter peace like that of listening to a rainstorm, I feel an overwhelming sense that God has given me such a moment as a gift. It’s that small moment of quiet that I otherwise wouldn’t have taken if I had declined the opportunity to sit out back with my husband. It’s that moment of restoration and tranquility that a crazy, messed up, exhausted, stay-at-home mother of two happened to desperately need. It pains me, worse than a wall to the head, to think of how many of those precious gifts I miss out on during these “typical” days of life. Thank you, God, for the blessings of mommy-sized timeouts.

Live-In Barista Wanted

 

As a mother, I always assumed that “baby-brain” was the worst it was going to get as far as my mental crazies go.  I was so wrong.

In our home, we’ve approached a new level of fun: exhaustion.  Our beautiful daughter Elizabeth is a sweet baby.  As babies go, she’s of good temper and loves to laugh and play.  The only minor problem we’re finding in this precious child is that she hates to miss anything.  Curiosity isn’t a bad thing, really, unless it’s the middle of the night and she  should be sleeping!

Lizzie does not like being taken away from the action to go to bed.  She will wake up at least three times a night hoping we’ll swoop in and take her on a tour of her home.  If she had her way, we’d just have an all-night pat-a-cake marathon.  She’s been this way her entire seven months of life.

I love this baby girl with every fiber of my being, but she’s making me feel like I’ve lost my…I can’t remember.

We “leveled-up” this past week in the game.  Miss Elizabeth, along with our two-year-old son, has been battling a pretty intense cold, nasty cough included.  This means, even less sleep for everyone.  Up to this point, I didn’t think I could get any more sleep deprived.  Wrong again.

As of yesterday, my brain has ceased to function. I first noticed a problem when I stood in the shower for ten minutes, but couldn’t remember how I got there or why I was even there in the first place.  A little later, my son asked me to read him a story.  He crawled into my lap and handed me a simple little book.  For the first time since elementary school, I found myself struggling to sound out words and understand sentences.  Who would have thought a book called Pals Are Fun could be so tricky?

I thought I was out of the woods after that.  Having ingested one Mountain Dew and three cappuccinos, my mind was feeling like it had gotten a jump start and I figured the worst was over.  I get so tired of being wrong.

I found myself walking out of the bathroom carrying a roll of toilet paper, texting incomplete, undecipherable text messages, and forgetting to put diapers back on the children after changes.  My personal favorite came when my very dry hands kept getting sticky after I’d apply lotion.  After the third time, I was so frustrated that I decided to investigate.  My findings are as follows:  Hands tend to soak up more moisture and feel smoother when you use lotion rather than soap. I hate that stupid soap.  It has a tendency to be applied to my toothbrush as well.

So here I sit, at 6:00 in the morning, feeding a baby and chugging my cappuccino.  To all my fellow zombie moms, let’s raise our mugs and toast that fantasy we have about one day getting a nap!