Mommy Brain

My hair is falling out--postpartum hair loss strikes again. I knew it was happening when Forest found a hair in his enchiladas the other day. He just sweetly set it to the side of his plate and didn't complain, but I saw the horrific evidence and realized it was time to take some kind of action to try and prevent further damage. I got 10 inches chopped off and donated in hopes of letting some of it go to better cause than just clogging up the shower drain (and gagging my family at mealtime).

I wonder if each strand of hair that departs from my head is somehow taking brain cells along with it--it seems like I have had some fairly severe cases of "Mommy Brain," lately.

My first experience with Mommy Brain occurred while I was pregnant with Ramona. We lived in a small one-bedroom apartment a few blocks from the old Lincoln Square Mall in Urbana. I often cut through the mall to walk to the bus stop, library, school district office, or doctor's appointments. (Amazing how much I could do without a car while we lived there). Anyhow, the point is that I was very familiar with this mostly-deserted mall and frequently used its facilities because something about walking + pregnancy really makes you feel like you have to go. One day as I came out of a bathroom stall, I noticed something different on the wall: urinals. (Thankfully, that was ALL I saw). Then realization hit that I had turned right instead of left, marching straight into a clearly-labeled men's restroom after correctly using the women's bathroom so many times previously. I felt confused and betrayed--how had my brain let me down on such a simple task as distinguishing between a men's and women's restroom?

In the past year, my Mommy Brain incidents have been more prevalent than ever before. While I was still pregnant with Paula, I dropped Ramona off at preschool and took Mika with me to run an errand. Afterward, without realizing it, I buckled her in her sister's car seat, (which was behind the driver's seat), and started the car to head home. At the stoplight, I turned to check on my little toddler, and felt my heart sink when I saw her empty car seat. "I left her at the store!" I thought, in a panic. Thankfully, there was just enough brain function remaining to help me calm down and realize that my two-year-old was in the car, just not in her usual seat. And that I had not left her at the store after all.

Since Paula joined our family,  my condition has noticeably worsened. There are days when the effort to be productive appears to result in more harm than good. For example, last week after posting our old printer on craigslist, I set up a time for someone to come and look at it. He was happy with it, paid me the asking price, and took it away. Just as I was patting myself on the back for getting things done, I realized I had left one of my music books under the scanner lid of the printer--and this music was worth more than I had made by selling the printer.

I ended up having to contact the buyer, who was kind enough to meet me at the local Staples store so I could get the music back. I loaded the kids in the van and headed out to retrieve the book (successfully), then decided to run an errand at Staples since we were already there. Again, I was over-confident in my ability to be productive--even though I completed the Staples errand, I forgot to load the stroller back into the van, so I had to drive back over to pick it up from the parking lot later (at least it was still there). I had to wonder if I would have been better off throwing the old printer in the garbage that day.

Despite such occurrences, perhaps it isn't fair to attribute so many of my mental shortcomings to the fact that I have children. Sure, motherhood can hurl a woman into a whole new world of distractedness and chaos, but it also can do her heart a whole lot of good. For me, having Ramona, Mika, and Paula in my life have helped increase my patience and compassion for others. They remind me every day how important it is to be kind, to be forgiving, and to enjoy the simple things in life.

I don't know if my lost brain capacity can ever be recovered, but I hope the lessons I learn will always stay in my mommy heart. And that my family continues to put up with me mixing up birthday parties, missing exits, and brushing my teeth with face wash.