Let me tell you about a woman I hate envy. We are both on the board of our kids’ day care. She has a three-year-old and a four-month old. And her mind seems completely untainted by this. In the meetings she alternately sits and nurses and stands and jostles her infant, all the while making reasonable arguments about complicated questions, recalling four-digit-numbers from last month’s meeting, and correctly predicting on what date the third Tuesday of next month will fall.
Meanwhile, my youngest is two, and I’m like, What was your name again?
Tannis posted recently about how long it takes to get ‘back to normal’ after having a child (hint: longer than three months), and Moxie’s readers went off the other day about how long it takes to lose baby weight (hint: usually lots longer than six weeks).
I realize that, coming up on four and a half years into this mothering gig, the statute of limitations on I birthed half my brain out with the placenta is drawing near. But really, I don’t feel the same, and it isn’t just because of all the legos on the floor. I was never one to make eloquent contributions to meetings, but I did used to be able to remember facts fairly well. I feel much more mentally capable now than I did when my kids were the same age as Ms. Fourdigit-Numbers’s little ones (albeit a little less so now that the nighttime hat trick of teething, bed wetting, and thunderstorms is doing me in). But still. Not the same.
Is it too late to keep blaming the children? When do I have to start chalking this up to ordinary decrepitude?