Thursday, December 30, 2010

Losing my mind

Lately I feel I have quite literally been losing my mind.

I should clarify. It's not just been lately but it's been getting worse and worse and to the point where my husband is staring at me with big buggy eyes and asking "WHO ARE YOU?"

I have never been particularly forgetful. Sure, like most people, I would occasionally forget something, lose something, that kind of thing. And it would drive me NUTS when I did. I had things together. I did not forget things.

My husband, however, and like my Dad, has always had a sieve for a brain. It's been a standing joke in our family that, whenever he leaves the house, you can count to 10 and he will come back through the door to grab whatever it is he left behind. Often times, he will have to drive back home later in the day to pick up something else he forgot. He also does things like keave shoes, coffee cups, and milk boxes on the roof of his or my car and then drive away.

(He's going to hate me for airing his dirty laundry on here. LOVE YOU HONEY!)

Well, all of those years of rolling my eyes at him is severely coming back to bite me in my fat ass because I have become...



That's right, I've gone from smugly making fun of his holey memory to being the premier lunatic in our family.

And it's driving me NUTS.

I continually misplace keys or my wallet or my bluetooth headset or my phone (those are the primary culprits.) I have left the house for lunch with friends without my wallet in my bag and needed them to pay. {shame} I frequently dash around the house seconds before my hand hits the front door knob, looking for one of two sets of my car and house keys. Almost EVERY night before I go to bed, I begin an Indiana-Jones-like search for my cell phone.

Here is yesterday's anecdote. A prime illustration.

We were going to Kohls, to get out of the house and because I had $20 in Kohls cash and because they were having a 60% off sale.

I grabbed the diaper bag, which I was convinced contained my wallet in the front pocket. However, when I looked, it wasn't there. I suddenly remembered (whoooah!) that I had done the same thing yesterday and that Hubby had to pay for everything. So then I went to the next culprit - my red Gap bag. I had used it the day before when I went to the docs and had paid my doctor's co-pay as well as buy some things at the drugstore. It must be in the red bag.


I frantically searched around. I checked my computer table (where it sometimes lands for an online purchase.) I checked my office (ditto). I checked the stairs (where everything without a home lands.) I re-checked the red bag.  And re-checked it again. And then began to panic.

Had I left it at the drug store? Had it dropped out of my bag in my car? (Had it dropped out of my bag on the street!!?)

We checked the car. Nope.

And then Hubby dug around again INSIDE the diaper bag and there it was. (This was after I threw a panic fit and caused both of us to get agitated.)


Crisis averted, I put my Kohls cash in my coat pocket and off we went.

We shopped around Kohls until Daisy yelled "Pasta!" and we realized she needed to be fed. I got to the line for the cash registers, put my hand in my pocket for the Kohls cash coupon and... could not find it. It was gone!

Crap! So, while Daisy and I waited in line, Hubby ran out to the car to see if it had fallen out of my pocket. He ran back in shaking his head and then proceeded to check the aisles we had walked down, in case it had dropped out of my pocket in the store.

Amazingly, he found it.

And then we got to the register and I reached into my diaper bag and...

... my wallet was not there.

I frickin' kid you not. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. (I think Hubby was close to hitting me.)

I realized then, of course, that when he had originally found the wallet in the diaper bag I had taken it and put it on the center console of my car *so I wouldn't forget it.* (Yeah, great strategy.)

Hubby paid (thanks again, there babe) and we left Kohls talking incredulously about how my brain has turned to mush and WHAT THE HELL?

I bought us all dinner to commiserate and then we came home, played, and put Daisy to bed. At which point - yes, you guessed it - I went on the hunt for my cell phone. (Which I had left in my coat pocket.)

So, own up, friends. Which one of you crept into my house late one night and STOLE MY MIND?


e said...

We change as we get older. And I don't mean that your mind is turning to mush because you're getting older. What I mean is that life and biology change us. I think having children affects our memory first because we get that pregnancy thing where we can't even find ordinary words. Not all of that comes back, I think. But more importantly, other things become more important and crowd out the little stuff. Remember things is, weirdly, little stuff. I bet you don't forget where you put your camera or a lens or photographs you're working on. If I don't put things down in their designated place each and every time, I spend a ton of time looking for them, too. And then panic and get my mom all flustered, as well. All it takes is a split second of thinking of something else.

Sarah said...

I think Daisy stole your brain cells. Katie is stealing mine. Maybe it is because we have so much more to think about these days that the short term memory just gets overloaded. Isn't there some fact that you can only remember 7 things in your short term memory? If you are remembering diapers, wipes, sippy cups, favorite blankets, favorite toys, binkies, and Daisy then you certainly can't also remember keys, cell phones, wallets and Kohls coupons.

MACMD said...

@Sarah - that has been my theory also. My husband thinks I'm just making excuses, though.

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