I’d like to dispel a myth: baby brain isn’t a temporary condition.
Well, not for me at any rate.
With a daughter nearing her first birthday, I’m starting to wonder if I will ever fully regain my lost brain.
When you’re pregnant, being in a constant state of confusion is allowed – expected, even. It seems to be regarded as an endearing quality (except by those who live with you and have to put up with nine months of lost car keys, lost glasses and forgotten shopping items).
And then the baby’s born and the baby brain really kicks in. Relentless sleepless nights and internet baby forum addictions can wreak havoc with a memory, don’t you know. But again, it’s allowed, “You’ve just had a baby for goodness sake. Really, just go and sit down and I’ll find your car keys.”
So here is my dilemma: how long can I get away with blaming “just having a baby” for my current state of stupidity? With a child who’s nearly 12 months, I fear I may be nearing the end of the acceptable time period of the baby brain condition and hurtling worryingly close to plain old stupidity. How long does baby brain last anyway?
Because, I must admit, I’m getting rather sick of it. My life seems to be filled with aimless stair-walking. Seriously, I spend at least 75 percent of my day walking up and down stairs. I’ll get to the top, realise I’ve forgotten what it was I needed and walk back down again, only to remember at the bottom. So up to the top I go again. And forget. Again. I can waste a good half hour like this, just walking up and down the stairs.
I decided a while ago I couldn’t go on like this so I started reciting my reason for leaving a room, such as nappy nappy nappy nappy, over and over again until I’d retrieved the object of my quest. But then I’d get distracted by something, like a really good nursery rhyme or Take That song, or realise the hoovering hadn’t been done. And my quest would be terminated just like that. On his return from work, the (self proclaimed) Northern Love Machine would be greeted with a beautiful sight: a half naked woman (I’d forgotten to get fully dressed, obviously) wondering up and down the stairs muttering “nappy nappy nappy” in between random outbreaks of Relight My Fire and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, as she trailed a hoover after her, which she clearly had no idea she was holding.
This was in the early Frog days, you understand. I’m a little better now – these days I tend to remember to get dressed at least.
On writing this post I’ve just realised that I’ve rambled on about something completely unrelated to what I originally intended to write about. There it goes again – baby brain.
Which leads me to my next question – how long can you use the “I’ve just had a baby” excuse to explain away a flabby tummy and big bum? Again, I fear the answer may be under the 12 month mark. Damn.