Hello, fellow mamas. Welcome to my brain. Enter if you dare. I’ve always been a bit of a multitasker (ahem, scatterbrained), but since the addition of our daughter, I’ve really excelled at a whole new level. Olympic level, perhaps. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. You start off on one task and are too-easily distracted by a million other things that need done. I like to describe the “‘mom-brain” as a big bowl of pasta (hello, carbs. Love you, mean it), with a task or thought being a single noodle. You can’t get from the beginning of one noodle to the end without getting entwined with at least 20 other noodles.
It’s not a coincidence that we tend to be forgetful, or happen to put the cheese grater in the microwave (literally happened this week. I have no clue. I don’t remember doing it, but there it was). Maybe it’s environmental. Maybe it’s how our brains are wired. But if you’re a mother, you get it. You’re pulled in 5 different directions, all at once. Keep the house clean, pay the bills, do your job proficiently, keep yourself healthy, and dear god, keep your children from killing each other.
This is an actual, real-life demonstration of what goes on in my brain in only ten minutes. Enjoy.
(Pulls into the garage after work.)
“Man, my head is killing me. I know we have ibuprofen somewhere. Is it in the guest bathroom? Probably. Oh crap, I almost forgot to grab that coffee mug rolling around in the backseat AGAIN.”
(Gets out of car, opens back door, grabs mug and sees mail I threw back there who knows when.)
“Shoot. That’s one of the hospital bills I needed to pay, I think last week? Ughhh. Wait, where did I just put that coffee mug?”
(Sees it on top of the car. Grabs it. Grabs mail. Walks inside. Dogs instantly lose their minds.)
“Stop. Stop. Stop. Please for the love of God stop barking. Ow!”
(Trips over dogs. Sets dirty mug and mail on counter. Kisses husband. Gets told the baby was sleeping but the dogs woke her up. Gets asked what’s for dinner. Gives a semi-dirty look and starts to walk to nursery to pick up baby.)
“Oh wait, I need to change first. And what are we going to have for dinner? I think there’s a bag of salad in the fridge but I know I haven’t thawed any meat. Why don’t I do a better job meal planning? I really should work on that during my lunch break. It doesn’t seem that hard. Just do it. Make a list and try to stick to it. Then you won’t have to be scrambling last second.”
(Goes to change, sees piles of laundry. Baby is screaming now.)
“Shoot. I’m pretty sure Michael put in a load of laundry last night and asked me to switch it to the dryer. I definitely didn’t do that. And my head is killing me. Oh yeah, ibuprofen. Well, I should probably put another load in the washer, switch the first one now, and hope it doesn’t smell too musty.”
(loads up a hamper, starts to walk toward laundry room, sees a massive dust bunny in the hallway by the vent. Drops laundry, makes mental note to vacuum, goes to pick up baby. Baby smiles. Heart melts. Kisses baby, carries her out to husband. Returns to get laundry basket, sees vacuum so picks it up. Conquers dust bunny.)
“Let me just vacuum up this dust pile really fast. Then I need to go to laundry room. Oh! And I really need to wash that coffee mug. It smells. I could smell it from the car. Oh yeah, pay that bill. Did I have to make an account to do online bill pay? Gahhhh I never remember my password. Laundry. Don’t tell Michael you forgot to switch it. Please don’t smell like mildew.”
(Takes laundry to laundry room. Opens washer, instant mildew smell.)
“Dangit. Okay, rewash this. Then I’ll just leave this basket here and come back in an hour and switch them for realsies this time.”
(Enter husband “Baby just really misses her mom. Can you hold her? I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”)
“I need to show him that meme about how I pushed out an entire human in the amount of time it takes him to take a poop. And what are we going to do for dinner?”
(Carries baby to fridge, opens it.)
“Meal planning. I need to do that. Le sigh. Well, there’s that salad. Meatless Thursday is a thing, right? And maybe there’s some sort of soup in the pantry. Hey, it’s basically Panera up in here. You-pick-two, peasant style.”
(Sees dirty coffee mug on the counter, along with some other dirty dishes. Loads dishwasher with one hand, baby starts reaching for dirty dishes and giggling.)
“Stop getting so big so fast!”
(Enter working-mommy guilt. Gets teary-eyed. Thanks, hormones. Headache is full force now, thanks to surge of emotions.)
“Caitlin. Stop. You are enough. You are doing your best. Get it together. Make a list. Lists always help. 1. Find the ibuprofen.”
