Mom Brain

A few days ago I ran out of the lotion I keep on the bathroom counter.  I grabbed a new bottle off of the shelf to be prepared for the next day.  The next day arrived, I showered and applied lotion, all the while thinking to myself, "Wow, this stuff takes forever to rub in." I repeated the process for the next several days until one morning when I discovered that my new lotion was, in fact, body wash.

I call this "mom brain."  However, I think mine has been slowly slipping for a while and motherhood just gave it that extra nudge it needed to slip into oblivion. (Previously referred to as; college brain, love-sick brain, teacher brain, pregnancy brain)

This mom brain phenomenon is not news to me.  I knew it was coming.  I had been told it was coming. I felt safe from it's grasp until the day Bradley brought me my car keys that he'd found in the refrigerator.

I love being a mother.  I love my daughter more than I could ever explain to you with words.  But WHY does this child want my brain? And when does she plan on returning it?  I can tell you every detail of her birth story, every mark on her body, recall every doctor visit and tell you when she crawled, laughed and peed on her daddy for the first time. For the life of me, however, I cannot tell you the last time I went to the bathroom by myself, where my wallet is right now or what I ate for breakfast yesterday.

I can tell you the song that every toy plays, where the sippy cup is currently located and the "healthy" color and consistency of a toddler's poop.  But if you want to know what's happening in the world, what day it is, or the popular new song on the radio, you'll have to visit another blog.

When my brain functioned normally, I could do math, enjoy science, and concentrate while reading.  I was even allowed to teach young children how to do those things.  Today, math consists of calculating how much sleep I will get if I go to bed RIGHT NOW.  Science is texting my science-y husband to ask what blah blah phosphate-oxide-odium is because I saw on a mom blog that it's bad and, OMG, we have to inspect EVERY food label in the house now.  Reading is of books made from cardboard because my kid eats everything she touches.

The mom brain struggle is real. So is the love I have for this brain-stealing little girl, and I will let her steal my brain every day as long as she keeps calling me 'mama.'