I’ve been accused on more than one occasion of being a little ditzy. From putting the milk away in the pantry to leaving my keys in the door, I know I am more than a little guilty. However, I learned this morning that it’s not my fault. The blame lies with my children. Just one more reason to say, “You did this to me!”
As if it weren’t enough my thighs and waist grew exponentially after the second child, never to go back to their pre-baby size again. As if it weren’t enough that my disposable income was replaced with disposable diapers. And the way-hip person I was before the kids turned into ’tweens? Yeah, she’s long gone only to be replaced by “projections” of what the kiddos need in a mother.
And now, there is Momnesia. I’ve suffered the effects of this illness long before I even knew it existed or had a name. My older children constantly make fun of me and my brain fade moments. How many times have I called them by their siblings names? How many times have I found myself in a fog, trying to remember what it was exactly that I was doing? Or the constant “word warp”, as in, “Hannah, get off the TV before you turn on the computer!”
Which begs the question, what the hell was I thinking when I decided to have kids? All bitterness aside, I clearly was not prepared for this! And, all joking aside, I knew it’d be hard to be a parent. I just didn’t count on it being a mind eraser, though. Really.
Once when my nine year old son, Griffin, was still in preschool, I forgot to pick him up. It was completely innocent, I swear! In my mind, the last thing I remembered was that my husband was to pick him up that day. Turns out, my husband and I had that conversation two days prior, and it really was my turn to pick up our son! I drove straight from the office to our house, where I met my husband in the driveway. He looked at me a little puzzled and before he had a chance to ask, I realized just what my mistake was. In the end, though, no foul, no harm. Because I had gotten out of work early that day, I was able to show up at Griffin’s preschool without the teacher suspecting that I had inadvertently tried making him an overnight guest.
Scientists agree that while mothers are suffering the effects of momnesia, it does not necessarily mean they are bad mothers. Instead, they are great moms, whose brains are hyper alert in the “mommy” regions and not so hyper active in other areas. Parenthood is the ultimate sacrifice. You give (and give up) so much of yourself in an effort to raise decent and well-adjusted human beings. It should come as no surprise that mind melt is just one more part in the equation. Being a parent is tough. Being a good parent is delirium inducing!So now I’ve got scientific evidence to back up the fact that I am not really a ditzy blonde and really, it’s my children who’ve done this to me! Oh, there is nothing more validating! Really.
