We are all familiar with the fog that smothers your sleep-deprived brain when you first have a baby. A typical day consists of finding your cellphone in the refrigerator and discovering butter in your diaper bag. This fuzzy consciousness has frequently been dubbed “Mommy Brain.”

We hate to break it to you, but since we are The Sensible Moms, we have to set the record straight: it NEVER ends. You may now want to call us “The Buzz Kill Moms” or “Moms Who Need to Shut It”, but sticking your head in the sand won’t change the reality. In fact, we’re knighting this condition “Mom Brain” because our kids are too old to still be calling us Mommy.

Here’s a point to send you rocking in the corner: we are all aging as our kids get older. It’s a sliding scale for losing your ever-loving mind and for it staying lost. Erin is five years from infant times and Ellen is a whopping twelve years out, and Mom Brain is still kicking us in the rear. The Super-Duper-Swell-Can-I-Have-A-Xanax-On-The-Side difference? Now the collateral damage has an even larger zone of destruction.

Sad Scenario One: You lose important shizz.

Ellen: People! I misplaced not only my passport, but my husband’s, too! This was just two years ago. Do you know the expense and the paperwork that must be filled out when you can’t turn in the old passport? It blows.

But you want to play a little  crazy Mom Brain association game with me? What else do you blow? (Keep it G rated!) That’s right, birthday candles and balloons. And that’s where I found our passports one month after we got back from our trip —in the birthday candle and balloon box.

Erin: I think we need to discuss the “Birthday Candle and Balloon Box”. WTH?

Ellen: Hey, I can find those things when I need them, right? I’m combating Mom Brain with organization.

 

Erin: Sounds more like hoarding because it would just be silly to lay out a buck for a new set of birthday candles each time. Much more economical to create a place for your passport to hide.

Ellen: So we’re throwing stones? How about that camera bag and lens you misplaced?

Erin: I can’t even talk about it. By the way, did security strip search you or anything because you were flagged for lost passports?

Ellen: No thank goodness. Why do you ask?

Erin: I MAY have just had to go through the same process when I couldn’t find my passport for the Bermuda cruise my husband, Steve and I are FINALLY sprinting away on.

Ellen: I will be over here fighting an uncontrollable urge to hide something in your luggage until the moment of your departure.

Erin: I would be worried, but you are going to forget about it anyway. See, I AM Pollyanna. I just found the sunny side of Mom Brain.

 

Sad Scenario Two: Your calendar plots to punk you all of the time.

Ellen: Mmmmm, I’m gonna have to call “projecting” and say that YOU punk me all of the time.

Erin: Does it make you feel better that I’ve gotten Steve, too?

Ellen: No, it doesn’t because I happen to like your husband. You know what would make me feel better? To transcribe MY incident down for the record.

Erin: If this can be the last I hear of it, go ahead.

Ellen: Short version: Erin needed to sign some paperwork for the blog. She was supposed to print it out, sign it, and mail it to me. We live about 35 minutes apart.

Erin: We’re 25 minutes apart if you believe our friend, Mary.

Ellen: Don’t try to derail my train of thought with another Mom Brain topic: the inability to properly gauge travel time.

Anyway, she forgot to mail it for a week straight, so she was going to bring it to me—sort of.  She wanted to meet me at my child’s high school because she thought her son, Ace (15) was playing soccer there. She maintained that the game was at MY school despite the fact I quoted three sources that said it was at her school.

Erin: I thought it had been changed!

Ellen:  So I drove yet another round trip to my kid’s school. That brought the grand total to five for that day, but at least that one was for NOTHING. Well, shame on my Mom Brain for listening to you instead of my three sources.

Erin: My Mom Brain and I are really, really sorry about that. I was still learning to juggle my new part-time work schedule with my soccer-moming and the volunteer commitments I had made the year before. All of that keeping my eye on the ball apparently blurred my vision so I just didn’t read the schedule right. End of sad, sad story.

Ellen: Amazing I can’t remember where my iPod is , but this story stays fresh. Probably time to let it go.

Erin: Like I said, it was nothing against you because I darn near did the same thing to Steve.

Steve was on soccer field duties with three of our spunky future soccer stars AND the crap schedule I gave him. As he fumbled around the soccer field trying to piece together where the boys were ACTUALLY supposed to be, I got to listen to the whole debacle unfold in real time via cell phone. Oh, good times! If the sound of the fuming husband didn’t make me feel like a crumbled biscuit, the pathetic whimper of the heartbroken five year old  who missed his game did me in. I took down my entire family’s happy Saturday with one faulty calendar entry.

Puddle of crap. Party of one.

Ellen: See what we were talking about with the larger radius of destruction?? Only so much chaos could go down when the only thing on your schedule was story time.

Sad Scenario Three: You have to go back to the paper trail.

Ellen: We can just hear your Mom Brains shouting, “But that is what smartphones are for! You can enter, link, and share calendars. There are even alerts!”

Erin: Oh, but there is this little thing my husband likes to call the ID10T error. Must I really explain?

Ellen: Yeah, I’ve muffed entering a date into my phone when bedlam is buzzing around me— the kids yelling and the cat puking on the 25% of my house that is carpet. The worst, though? Speeding through a calendar entry on my phone because, grrrrr, the phone starts ringing.

Erin: I not only have to record the date in my phone and on my wall calendar, but I have been schooled to keep the originals.  

My super-organized friend Nicole sent out her birthday party invitation well in advance. I promptly loaded that data into our Google calendar and tossed that puppy into the recycling bin. When I saw her at school, I said, “See you Saturday.” “You mean Sunday.” “No, Saturday.” “Erin, his party’s on Sunday.” “No, it’s not.” Do you see what I am laying down? I was arguing with my friend about the date of HER party. Good grief. Y’all should just put me down already. I’m not fit for human company.

Ellen: In all fairness, you really could have been correct. I was still putting the finishing touches on this beauty . . .

 

Ellen: . . . when the guests started arriving for my daughter’s sleepover. Yeah, they were on time, I was under the delusion that I had one more hour, despite the fact I put the time on the invitations.

Erin: And so our lives are reduced to entering the date on multiple calendars AND keeping the originals. I miss the days when all I had was the pediatrician visit reminder cards.

So are you actually rocking in the corner yet? Where’s the trust? We’re not going to leave you without any solutions!

The Sensible Moms Solutions to Mom Brain

1. Number Your Children

In fact, number ALL of the children because those little hooligans are waiting to take you down too! We find this system works best if you always make them walk, move, and arrange themselves around the table in numerical order.

 

2. Tag Your Stuff

We know Brookstone makes a Wireless Key Finder, but it’s expensive, and let’s face it, you’ll probably lose the transmitter that locates your tagged shiz. Plus, you have more stuff to lose than keys. We’re solving this problem old school à la bright-orange-flag-on-the-back-of-a-banana-seat-bike style.

 

3. Velcro Shirt

Keep your MOST important items within your sight at all times. Your keys are just a boob length away!

 

Mom Brain might be here to stay, but it was all worth it. Right? Our kids, the precious memories, even the not-so-precious memories. It was all worth it, right? Right!?! At this point, we’re too addled to know any better. Bring your Velcro and come rock in the corner with us. Arts and crafts are soothing.