My mushy brain

After two months I now finally have the time, energy and mild inspiration to write.

That says a lot. Or at least, it does say something about the level of business in our lives.

I am the kind of person who is always busy. 

You know, the annoying  kind.

In the past week I've turned down 4 different invitations to different kind of activities.

"Sorry, 2 o'clock is nap time for us"

"Sorry, 7 is too late, we are having dinner then"

"Sorry, Loud Baby is teething and super cranky today, I really can't take her to multiple stores right now for a shopping spree". 

Well, actually I could, but the people in the stores would not appreciate it much. 

That being said, even if Loud Baby is napping or away with her dad for an hour, my mind never stops being busy. It thinks and thinks and thinks some more about the things that need to be done, cleaned, bought, organized and so on. 

"I must remember to..." is probably the phrase that crosses my mind most often on a daily basis. 

Shoes in the livingroom?

Must remember to put them back so we don't look for them when we are leaving (and always in a hurry, and always late).

Puzzle pieces in the hamper?

Must remember to take back to puzzle box.

And to write email to friend.

And to start dishwasher.

And to make grocery list.

And to...where's the cat?!

You get the idea.

Before we had a baby, I used to be pretty sharp. I knew where things were in my house, in the car, in the city. I could multitask calmly and efficiently and I would enjoy it.

Flash forward 19 months later and I have no idea what I'm doing.

Literally. 

I remember heading for the kitchen to load the dishwasher but I end up on the balcony to put the diaper pail out for some fresh air. 

I have no idea where my phone is most of the time. Or my sunglasses. Or my clothes.

Or my keys until recently. (I bought this awesome cheap hook that you hang on the door and that's where I put my keys. Way out of reach for tiny and not so tiny hands).

Things get lost in our house all the time. 

In the past month we've lost a baby hat, a toddler t-shirt, a key to the house, a laundry card, a pumpkin carving kit (!)...and I'm sure there will be more.

I would love to blame it all on Loud Baby but truth be told she can't be held responsible for all of this stuff. 

Nope. It's me. 

I have no idea where I put some of these prized possessions. 

And these are the things that have been swallowed up by Mother Earth but I spend every day looking for stuff. 

Stuff like shoes (usually one), loveys, crayons, wallet, building blocks etc. 

I regularly forget where I park the car and am hit by a panic attack when I exit Target with 7 bags and have no idea which way to go. 

My brain is mushy. Or, better yet, so tightly wound and in such a hurry that it just doesn't have the patience anymore to think a thought through cohesively enough for me to follow.

Example situation: we just got home and I have parked the car.

(The car is a unique ecosystem comprised of baby books, Lamaze toys, sweaters and blankets, crackers and baby puree remains, bits and scraps of paper, strollers, fresh and not so fresh sippy cups...).

Anyway. We are home now and need to get out of the car. That might not sound complicated at first but, trust me, it is. To my mind at least. 

Items that need to be removed from the car: 2 giant grocery bags, another bag full of library books, my diaper bag/purse, jacket, Husband's backpack; 2 adults and 1 toddler. 

My husbands gets the little one so I start removing things from the trunk. 

Suddenly, I remember I have no idea where my keys are. I check one of the pockets on my diaper bag and it's there. Whew!

Meanwhile, Loud Baby is out and she sees her doll stroller in the trunk.

"Stroller! Stroller!Stroller" x 134

I get the stroller out and remember I should really get the sippy cup out too this time before any nasty mold starts making its appearance.My husband is locking the door on his side and picks up the grocery bags while I do acrobatics as I try to fish out a sippy cup from under the seats of a two-door car. 

Success!

Loud Baby however is very eager with her stroller and makes a head start with great speed through the parking lot. Downhill. Where cars may come any time. 

I run to catch her and slow her down. She's not too happy about it and lets me know.

We get on the sidewalk, daddy joins us with the bags.

"I locked your side too", he says.

Right. I forgot all about that. (No automatic doors, in case you were wondering).

Two hours later after lunch, Loud Baby is in the mood for reading.

Oh goody. I'll read her one of the cute library books I got her.

Except, the bag with 6 library books is nowhere to be found.

Nobody remembers anything about it.

My husband goes down to the car to check.

It was on top of the car.

I think I'd better not get too attached to things.