I’ll be honest, when I was first approached to write a blog, I responded with a firm no.
My answer was most likely inspired by some self-help book I vaguely remember reading (skimming) in my 20s about busy women who are not able to graciously and guiltlessly say no. As someone who worked three jobs while writing a college thesis, I was never that woman to turn down an opportunity/job/volunteer project.
Still a new mom, I worried how I could fit it in. Or worse yet, how I could remember to post.
When I was pregnant with Anika, a veteran mom asked me if I was suffering from “Mommy Brain.” I was completely unfamiliar with the term, as my silent glare revealed.
“It’s true,” she said. “You get forgetful and flighty, but don’t worry, you’ll get it back—mostly.”
Mostly? It didn’t make sense then, but now I get it. I can testify to the existence of the urban legend of mommy brain, even though I hate the terminology.
I "officially, for the last time" leave the house at least twice (on a good day). I’ve misplaced the electric bill. Three times. I’ve even forgotten to put diapers in the diaper bag.
Yesterday, for example, I tried to mail a birthday package to Anika’s grandmother. Overlooking the fact that her birthday was two weeks ago, the package was ready to go—photos of the children, a birthday gift and card. I planned to hit the post office on my lunch break, but before I left my office, I realized I’d forgotten the envelope with her address written on it.
Of course I can't remember her address, so I looked it up and wrote the address on the back of another envelope.
As I walked in the door to the post office, I did a double- and triple-take through my purse. The envelope I wrote the address on (minutes ago) was still sitting on my desk.
Through clenched teeth, I planned to call a co-worker for the address. But as luck would have it, my cell phone was sitting on my desk at work next to the envelope.
As of today, her package still sits in the back of the car for when I re-attempt to send it, hopefully within the month of her birthday.
Even with my forgetfulness, I’m hopeful I can write a blog people will find interesting enough to read. And I must have forgotten about my firm no, because when I was asked a second time to do a blog, I responded with a firm—and enthusiastic—yes.
My answer was most likely inspired by some self-help book I vaguely remember reading (skimming) in my 20s about busy women who are not able to graciously and guiltlessly say no. As someone who worked three jobs while writing a college thesis, I was never that woman to turn down an opportunity/job/volunteer project.
Still a new mom, I worried how I could fit it in. Or worse yet, how I could remember to post.
When I was pregnant with Anika, a veteran mom asked me if I was suffering from “Mommy Brain.” I was completely unfamiliar with the term, as my silent glare revealed.
“It’s true,” she said. “You get forgetful and flighty, but don’t worry, you’ll get it back—mostly.”
Mostly? It didn’t make sense then, but now I get it. I can testify to the existence of the urban legend of mommy brain, even though I hate the terminology.
I "officially, for the last time" leave the house at least twice (on a good day). I’ve misplaced the electric bill. Three times. I’ve even forgotten to put diapers in the diaper bag.
Yesterday, for example, I tried to mail a birthday package to Anika’s grandmother. Overlooking the fact that her birthday was two weeks ago, the package was ready to go—photos of the children, a birthday gift and card. I planned to hit the post office on my lunch break, but before I left my office, I realized I’d forgotten the envelope with her address written on it.
Of course I can't remember her address, so I looked it up and wrote the address on the back of another envelope.
As I walked in the door to the post office, I did a double- and triple-take through my purse. The envelope I wrote the address on (minutes ago) was still sitting on my desk.
Through clenched teeth, I planned to call a co-worker for the address. But as luck would have it, my cell phone was sitting on my desk at work next to the envelope.
As of today, her package still sits in the back of the car for when I re-attempt to send it, hopefully within the month of her birthday.
Even with my forgetfulness, I’m hopeful I can write a blog people will find interesting enough to read. And I must have forgotten about my firm no, because when I was asked a second time to do a blog, I responded with a firm—and enthusiastic—yes.
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