If I only had a brain..

"This is one thing they forget to mention in most child-rearing books, that at times you will just lose your mind. Period. "

- Anne Lamott, Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith

Once upon a time, I had a Brain.

It was a good Brain. It thought interesting thoughts, and it thought them from beginning to end, mostly without interruption. It got me through college, despite being challenged by too much Bud Light and not enough sleep.

The Brain was a curious organ. It asked lots of questions, and noticed that all kinds of people would tell it random things. So the Brain helped me find my way as a journalist. The Brain allowed me to write, and people hired me to do just that. The Brain did its job. Together, we were on our way.

Now, the Brain occasionally got overruled by other organs. The Heart, for one. And another one that's, well, Down Lower. This was never a good thing. The Heart would get injured, broken, even, and try to take it out on the Brain. But the Brain would simply say, "I told you so." Because really? The Brain? Never wrong. 

One time, the Brain and the Heart got together. They got together and said, "This is the One."

And so I married my husband. Then the Brain, the Heart, and the one Down Lower got together and, well, I got pregnant. I then noticed the Brain didn't always fire immediately. I'd forget some things. I heard tell of Pregnancy Brain, that your brain does, in fact, shrink when you're pregnant. But I knew it was still there. It would bounce back and we'd be just fine.

I was sure everything was fine between my Brain and I until I actually gave birth. Because suddenly, I was the stupidest person on the planet. Words? Those things you use to form sentences? Couldn't think of them. It was charades, all the time.

Then I had my second child and I realized that, yes, I actually COULD be even dumber than I was before. So it was no surprise that after the birth of my third, brushing my teeth became fascinating. It was stimulating my teeth, which are close to my Brain, right?

My Brain now became Mommy Brain. It wasn't pretty. Sure, the Heart was thrilled. Thrilled! The Brain? Not so much.

Anne Lamott wrote something about how when a baby is born it comes out clutching 1/3 of your Brain. Considering I've had three, where does this leave me? I'd do the math, but it's a bit over my head.

Sometimes I have a glimmer of my old Brain. I walk into a room and remember why. I go to the store and actually buy what I went there for.  I figure out how to assemble my baby's wagon. I answer my kindergartener's question - correctly! - on how our circulatory system works.

I turn a phrase.

But then I forget to put my son's homework in his folder. I can't find the new pair of tights I bought for Sage's dance class, which I've also forgotten to re-register her for. The baby? I haven't left him anywhere. Yet.

My Brain is still there. I know it is. It's just overworked. Overwhelmed. In need of Omega-3.

I promise to do better. I know there's only so much Elmo and My Little Pony and Bob Books you can take. I need to do the crossword puzzles every day. Start listening to NPR. I vow to get more fresh air, more exercise. Brain? I really, really need you.

I miss you, old friend. I miss you.

This post is part of Mama Kat's writing workshop. The prompt was: “What did you once lose? Write about your search to find it again.”