Idiot…

Standard


I didn’t believe in pregnancy brain until I left my purse on the table of a crowded restaurant and walked out. I wasn’t totally convinced when I missed my exit twice on one trip home from the airport with my sister. I knew it was true when I called the office looking for a student I was sure was skipping only to find out that he had been in my class the entire time.

I naively hoped that it would fade after Robbie was born, but, no. There was just the onset of mommy brain, which is worse than pregnancy brain because there are no hormones to blame. And I can’t blame sleepless nights. It’s just pure stupidity from giving so many things little bits of my attention.

I fell victim to the perfect example of mommy brain today. Robbie and I had a busy morning, meeting with the contractor who’s been doing work around the house, hitting the gym, having lunch, and planting 120 crocus bulbs. I rushed through the last part of gardening, leaving twelve mums and countless tulip and daffodil bulbs unplanted, because we had a Red Sox game to get to. I’d been trying to get ahold of the friends Robbie and I were going with all afternoon and grew more and more panicked when they didn’t answer.

I grabbed everything I needed, including Robbie, and dashed out the door. I called a new friend from work, who was going to meet us, explaining that we would be a little late. In five minutes, Robbie and I were knocking on Micah and Allie’s door, decked out in our finest Red Sox attire. And Allie opened the door in a sweatshirt and yoga pants with a very confused look on her face. Because we didn’t have tickets for the game this afternoon. We had them for tomorrow. When Robbie and I will be in Vermont for the day.

Of course. Of course. Justin is out of town for five days, and I was so proud of myself for finding ways to keep busy the entire time he was gone. Except I didn’t. I felt so stupid; I nearly burst into tears in the middle of the living room. Luckily, Micah and Allie are amazing friends and salvaged our near disaster of an afternoon. They took me to drop of the car to get detailed, where the rear windshield wiper was torn off in the car wash… And we took a long walk and had dinner on a park bench.

Now I sit here, hoping that I do in fact have plans to go to Vermont tomorrow. Wouldn’t it be terrible to find out that I’d actually made those plans for today?

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