Have you ever forgotten what you were doing while you were in the middle of doing it? I have, constantly. And I’ve forgotten how to spell words . . . when I can remember the words at all. My brain is mush. I’ve turned into an imbecile.
There is this fabled thing called Mommy Brain, something that comes over a woman while she is pregnant and lasts for several years thereafter, that the experts say doesn’t really exist. The experts say there is no change in brain chemistry or make up. I say they are full of it. Perhaps there is no measurable change they can account for, but something is different. Maybe it’s the long-term sleep deprivation which makes five straight hours of sleep sound like a dream come true (pun intended). Maybe it’s the fact that a load of new and unusual responsibilities has suddenly been added on top of all the other responsibilities already taking over your life. Or maybe it’s the necessity to multitask constantly, juggling six things at once when the human brain can only handle two things at a time with anything resembling efficiency. Whether it’s any of these things or all of them, something is definitely not the same.
So, I was wrong about yesterday’s sleep prediction (I never posted it, it was in my head). I’d have laid money on it that after waking up at 3:30 on Wednesday morning at a run of 4:30 wake ups that she’d start fussing around 2:30 or 3:00 this morning. Nope, 4:30 again. I came close to sleeping through her fussing. I heard it, but I was incorporating it into a dream (I don’t remember the dream).
I got up, fed her, put her back to bed, and stayed up to pump. I don’t like starting the day at 4:30, but I’ll admit that it makes for less rushing in the morning. I had time to pump, clean the pumping supplies, get some bottles ready, make my lunch, eat breakfast, feed the girls, get dressed, do the bathroom routine, and pack my bag and Kathleen’s bag all before going back to get Kathleen.
She was sound asleep. I hated to wake her. It must have taken her a good five minutes to fully wake herself up. I think the Onsie over the head did it. She does not like clothes being pulled over her head. And if they get stuck there, as they often do (she has a big head – good for mental development, bad for clothing), she gets mad. Hmph. Her nightgown got stuck over her face last night as I was trying to get her dressed after her bath. She exploded. 0 to 60 in 0.3 seconds. It was kinda funny. She didn't much appreciate the humor of it.
1 comment:
Dominic too! He has a FIT when I pull something over his head, which is also quite large apparantly. In fact, at his last check up, the nurse told me that his head circumfrance (sp?) was the same as his body length. She said that and just stared at me, like I had some responsibility in that! I'm like, am I supposed to do something about that?! Weird.
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