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Brain ooze

12 Jan

I’ve been sitting here, trying to come up with something to blog about.  I can’t figure out what to write because my brain seems to have melted and oozed out one ear.

This is one of those hazards of parenting no one tells you about, the brain ooze.  There are days I lose all grasp of the English language, other days I know just enough to know that my grammar is horrid and I should be ashamed of having a degree in English.  It could be because no one around me uses proper grammar, or proper English, or in Maura’s case, English at all.  It could also be that I try to form a thought while two dogs fight under/around/on my feet and four children do four different loud things around me, and some chirpy children’s television character tells me to repeat things louder.  There may be Nerf darts flying about at this time as well as a telephone ringing.  Who knows?  What I do know is that I can go cross-eyed from it at times.  And my children aren’t that loud!  Imagine if they were?  yikes.

The brain ooze is also why there are days I brush my teeth twice in one morning, because I can’t remember if I’ve already brushed them.  Or forget to put on deodorant.  I may take a cue from Josh and just keep a stick of deodorant in the car.  I’m that woman you see wandering about the store muttering to herself because she can’t remember what it was she needed at said store.  I’m also the woman who talks back to the tv to tell those cartoon characters just how stupid they are (yeah, I’m talking to you Dora!)  I try not to look directly at the tv screen most days.  I’m certain that these programs cause IQ point loss in adults. 

And then there are times I just wave a white flag and give up.  Like right now, the big dog is eating ice cubes.  I don’t know where he got them from.  Probably the floor.  Why are their ice cubes on the floor?  I don’t know.  I also don’t care enough to get up and find out why.  The answer is probably “Maura.”.  But they’re just ice cubes.  Life will go on.  It’s not like it’s flames or water coming out of the ceiling.  I can ignore ice cubes.  I’ll save my brain power for an actual crisis, like remembering the number to Poison Control (which for the record, I’ve had memorized since Sean was two years old.)

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