I spend 3 full days with my daughter during the week. That means I’m talking Toddler-ease for 12 hours a day. That’s 36 hours of rolling up my sleeves, getting down on my knees, and playing…hard. In full disclosure I just had to use a calculator to figure that out.
Little Miss P. is non-stop. She is engaging and curious and determined and I love it. But that’s not easy work. And because I love to see the look of glee on her face when she discovers something new, I kill myself coming up with activities to keep her stimulated. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t. Like the other day when I introduced Play-Doh for the first time thinking I’m about to slay at least an hour with colorful doughy fun. But after spending 10 minutes setting everything up and plopping her down in front of it I got a lousy 4 minutes in before she dramtically announced “ALLLLLLLL DONEEEEE” and walked away. Sigh.
Thankfully the chalk project we invented went over much better
And luckily girl can get real creative with a sheet of stickers:
Now I spend 2 days in an office with adults. Real, live, dressed adults. Sometimes it takes me a good hour just to figure out how to talk to them. Once I talk to my first live adult of the week I often just sit there afterwards, mouth wide open, with a little drool coming out. Basically, I serve Mommy-Brain Mush up all day long. Here’s a little recap of my week so you know what Mush tastes like:
- Last Friday I walked in to get our dry cleaning…paid…and walked out
without it. I got half way down the block when I saw a number I didn’t
recognize on my cell phone and didn’t answer it. Turns out I will walk 7 blocks home before listening to the dry cleaning clerk tell me the
- On Monday I went grocery shopping with Miss P. The groceries were scanned and in bags waiting to be taken home . I had 2 people with big carts full of frozen groceries
waiting behind me and a check-out clerk that was less than amused. Who has 2 thumbs and left their wallet at home? This Momhole. Panicking, I spend 2 minutes (a long time in this situation) rummaging
through my bag and thankfully find a blank
check with a 7 year old address on it. Accepted. Mush.
- I was sitting in a meeting on Tuesday and naturally, the election came up. I wanted so badly to participate and be engaged. Desperately tired from being up with a sick child the night before, I pathetically offer: “SO, I was trying to think who else from Boston has ever run for President and couldn’t think of anyone. Does anyone know if someone ever has?” I got a bunch of sympathetic, awkward stares back at me for what seemed like a long while before someone finally leaned over and whispered “Um, Kennedy, Kristin.” Dear, God. Mush.
- This morning on my way to daycare, I drove through a Dunkin Donuts
drive-thru while it was raining. I rolled the window down to give my
order than rolled it up for the short drive to the pay window. Little Miss had just chirped
“COCKEY!” apparently recognizing my ordering voice. I was so excited and
yelled back “Yes Honey That’s Right, MAMA’S ordering COFFEE!” As I pulled up to
the pay area, (with my window still rolled up) I turned to the right to take my credit card out of my wallet and turned back to the left to hand it to the lady but smashed it into the car window instead. Lady dies of laughter. Hand is throbbing. Mush.
Other random examples of how my once sophisticated mind has now turned to Mommy Mush:
- I have no idea how old I am.
- I can’t, for the life of me, remember what comes after “If that diamond ring don’t shine.” This is P’s favorite nighttime song so lately I’ve been making up my own lyrics: “If that diamond ring don’t shine, Mama’s gonna buy you a porcupine. And if that porcupine isn’t Hmmm, Mama’s gonna buy you some Turpentine.”
- People ask me how many teeth P has all of the time. I hate this question because I never have any idea and it makes me feel dumb. I often feel like asking back: Do you know how many teeth YOU have?
Today I came home to my cleaning lady holding a statue we got on our wedding day from a couple who lived in Brasil. She was holding the head with one hand and the body with the other saying “sorry” in Portuguese (ironically). I started laughing out loud. The head was sliced clean off:
My endearing, sweet little daughter did not take the decapitation very well. She couldn’t stop staring and with a broken face whined “WHOA NO MAMA.”
Sans Super Glue, I tried to make the best out of it:
And now I’m sitting here staring at the statue thinking, “I hear you Lady, I hear you.”
Do you have Mommy Brain? Tell me your Mommy Mush story in the comment section of my Facebook Fan page. Start with the words “Bottle” or “Sippy” in capital letters (depending on your needs) for a chance to win a free one from Tommee Tippee. 15 random winners announced on Monday, enter as many times as you’d like.
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