Once upon a time...in a land not so very far away...I had more than 6 brain cells. I know, I know...but I promise that it's true. I used to think about (and sometimes even discuss!) things like...well, smart adult people things that I can't currently be bothered to spare one of my six remaining brain cells to remember. Yep, it's gotten that bad.
Because there are only six of them, I've given my brain cells names:
1. The little person brain cell
2. The household brain cell
3. The dentistry brain cell
4. The buying stuff for the little person brain cell
5. The vaguely aware that I'm married to someone brain cell
And finally
6. The "Who is this person?? Oh it used to be me" brain cell.
Let's clarify this a little.
# 1 - This is my primary usable brain cell as it is now accounting for >90% of my thoughts. These include, but are not limited to: Is he breathing? Do I need to save his life for the 8th time today? Is he eating enough? Do I need to tell him to get out of the fridge because it's not lunchtime yet? Should we do swim lessons or art classes? Does he need to go to speech therapy? How did he know that? Why do we have to read this book again? Is he pooping? Is he not pooping? Is he pooping in the potty? Is he pooping in his pants? Has he pooped and is sticking his hand in it? Now, please trust me when I say that I am extremely embarrassed about how much this one precious brain cell is overloaded with thoughts about his poop. (And it only makes it worse that I have spent 20 plus years of my life in school...and now I spend my free time wondering about a two year old's bathroom needs.)
#2 - My house/laundry/pets/dinner/etc. brain cell. This one is in constant chaos and I tend to try to lock it in a closet whenever possible and forget about it. The only way this brain cell gets activated is if I sit down and conscientiously make a list of what it's thinking about. And then maaaaaaaaaaybe something gets done...maybe.
#3 - Only gets turned on Tuesdays 2-7, Thursdays 12-7, and Fridays 8-5. This used to be a much bigger part of my brain, but #1 has eaten up (and probably pooped out) a good portion of it. When it's on, I try very hard to make it the only one that is currently sending me information...but if you think I haven't wandered over into thinking about the little person's poop while working on a tooth, you'd be slightly mistaken. (Yes, I realize you are judging me right now!!! I deserve it too, AACK!!)
#4 - Sadly, this is for when I need to shut #1 off for a bit, but feel guilty about it. So I buy him stuff (some he needs, some I tell myself he needs...) to make me feel like less of a motherly failure. Oddly, most of the stuff I used to buy him were cloth diapers. See, I can't escape the poop even in this category!
#5 - About 6 years ago, this brain cell was in full blown newlywed mode. It's still there...albeit lying dormant under a pile of thoughts about poop. Patrick is awesome though, so I do hope to see you again in about 20 years little brain cell.
#6 - I really did used to have a life. Trail running, travel, reading, eating at cool restaurants, doing creative things. Slowly but surely this brain cell has morphed into someone who is in love with her treadmill, considers going to the Cincinnati aquarium a big vacation, wishes more Pete the Cat and Pigeon books would be published, is overjoyed by the prospect of eating dinner at Bob Evans, and is lucky to keep the finger-paint on the paper. This brain cell is wearing mom jeans while cleaning up poop. And the worst part is it thinks it looks good.
My six friends and I are currently trying to survive toddler-hood, and quite frankly #1 is probably responsible for closer to 99.9% of my thoughts right now. Which is funny, since #1 spends so much time thinking about #2 (punny, aren't I???). Anyway, in an attempt to cross my February goal of "Catch up on random stuff I have been meaning to do" (yes, I do have a monthly goal that I write on top of my calendar. And yes, that is February's goal verbatim) I have a really cool idea for a blog post that should be coming up soon! That is, unless there's some poop to worry about...