Do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind?
I sure do.
I feel like my mind is sometimes torn in so many different directions at such a fast pace that I can’t seem to focus on one thing sufficiently. In short, I accomplish very little. Or at least not as much as I would like to.
And I sometimes feel like I’m so tired that I really shouldn’t be trusted with my kids all by myself. One night, when Mason was just a few weeks old, I was so incredibly tired that my thought processes turned into complete nonsense. I was nursing Mason constantly throughout the night, or so it seemed. At one point, and this is going to sound absolutely insane, I started thinking that my breasts were separate entities with feelings. The right breast was a boy and the left one was a girl. I thought to myself, “Mason just ate from the girl, I had better give Mason the boy now so he doesn’t get his feelings hurt”. After I realized what I had just thought, I laughed out loud. I didn’t realize how tired I was! Either that, or I needed to admit myself immediately to the psychiatric ward at the nearest hospital.
Going shopping with three children is enough to make one go crazy. If I make it home with at least half of the groceries that I had intended to buy (and only a few that the kids put into the cart without my knowledge), I consider it a great success. Yes, grocery stores definitely contribute to my loss of brain cells.
And then there was the time a few weeks ago that it somehow slipped my mind that I had a third child. We were at a ward party and I took Lizzie and left our table to go and talk to someone way across the other side of the gym. My husband and Bryce were elsewhere. At some point in the conversation that I was having with my friends they asked me how the baby was doing. Baby?! Oh yeah, the one that I left all by his lonesome on the other side of the gym.
Last week, my heart skipped a few hundred beats when I couldn’t find Mason in my own house. I know it’s very sad, but it is unfortunately very true as well.
I took him with me in the laundry room so that I could transfer some clothes from the washer to the dryer. I didn’t feel like doing it all with one hand, so out of desperation I placed him inside of a laundry basket half full of clothes. I quickly finished my task, turned off the light, left the room, and shut the door behind me.
As I moved on to the next thing on my to-do-list, it dawned on me that there were only two kids pulling on my pants and that my arms were, indeed, empty. What?! Where was Mason? I frantically searched the entire house. He wasn’t in any of the usual spots (his crib, his pack and play, his vibrating seat, or on a blanket anywhere on the floor). Then I remembered the laundry basket and I dashed to the laundry room, turned the light back on, and saw this cute little guy calmly lounging out.
Whew…I sure was glad that I found him.
It would have been quite the challenge to explain to my husband that I lost our baby in our own house.
What about all of you? Have you ever forgotten a child or been so tired that you feel bad for inanimate objects?