It only feels like I am. Before kids, I had nothing to blame my lack of memory on. At least now, two kids later, I do. There is an official word for it. Momnesia. Phew. At least the medical world is behind us.
In a recent forty-eight hour period, I have managed to lose a stack of gift cards worth $150, a brand new package of gum that Nicholas picked out at the grocery store and my daughter‘s favorite Cookie Monster pacifier (gosh, it still feels weird to see those words – my daughter). The gift cards I put in a very safe to-be-determined place. The gum? I could swear I put it on top of the tv in our bedroom, to keep it out of Nicholas’ reach. And the pacifier? Well, she fell asleep on my bed with it in her mouth and woke up an hour later (while I was sitting next to her the whole time!) and the freakin’ thing is gone. Poof.
The good news?
I just started folding laundry in the dryer, and as I’m taking out each piece of clothing, a gift card falls out onto the floor. Yup, all twelve of them have now been accounted for. The bad news? I bought new gift cards today to replace the first batch. I kept those in my pocket until I could put them away properly. When I reached into my pocket to put the first batch there, my pocket was empty. Yup. Now the search is on for the second set of gift cards.
The pacifier? Turned up underneath our bed. NO idea how it got there.
The gum? Well, we’re still looking for it…
So I should probably feel better that Momnesia is something real, but I don’t. I think the bigger problem, perhaps, is that by the time Momnesia goes away, it will be time for old age and its assorted memory loss to set in.
Oh the joys of motherhood.