and I call it momhead, and why i actually really love it, well, sorta

All mothers have this annoying, tragic condition. I call it momhead.

It's like every whine, scream, pregnancy and nursing and birth control hormone, every potty accident, every poopy diaper, every time our kids tell us they hate us, well, they all calibrate and weave themselves together to form this little quilt in our brains that slowly covers and strangles every intelligence we once had.

The other day, Shane asked me how many decimals of pi I remembered. 

Shane:"How many decimals of pi do you remember?"

Me: De.ci.mals? Pi. Apple Pie. Apples and cinnamon. CINNAMON! I need to add that to my grocery list - what else did I need? Yeast! But that means I have to go to Smith's and not Wal Mart, Wal Mart will definitely not have the yeast I need, oh, and while I'm there I can't forget to get oxyclean and eggs Mascara. EGGS! What am I making for dinner? Pi?Huh? Pi!

"oh, uh....isn't it something like 1.43?"

If you can't remember, pi is definitely not 1.43. And you know what? I used to know pi, the first 15 digits. I was that kid in class when my math teacher would say 'remind me, class, what is pi', yeah I was the one who would blurt out all 15 numbers while everyone else in the class would roll their eyes.

That was me!

I also memorized every US President in order.

Now it's gone. Every ounce of intelligence is covered by that tight-knit quilt and all I have left are grocery lists and random cravings for peanut m&ms.

But the worst symptom of momhead is the memory loss.

Not just for small things, like this is the third time I've had to rewash the clothes in the washer because I keep forgetting to switch them kind of forgetting, although that's there too. Momhead can erase the most traumatic experiences from ones brain.

It's why I have more than one child. (i knew my level of momhead was so severe that i wrote myself a letter when i was pregnant with Emmy, detailing the most horrific experiences i had had with her pregnancy and outlining why i would never, ever do that again. i lost the letter.)

Yes, momhead is why I decided last week it'd be a good idea, nay, a great idea, to go to the mall to buy some new jeans.

I only have three kids, I told myself. 

They're good at the grocery store, I told myself (not true, by the way).

I'll bring snacks!

Within ten minutes of unbuckling, re-tying shoes and re-zipping coats, unfolding the stroller, unzipping ziplock baggies and breaking up fights, Emmy had pooped through her onesie, Clara had given Logan a bloody nose and Logan was groping himself saying he needed. to. go. potty. now!

Momhead.

Had I attempted before to take all three of them out in public? Yes! Last week! And had I told myself I'd never do it again? Yes! I had! (after I spent a good amount of time curled in fetal position on my carpet).

I didn't get the pants.

I didn't even try on the pants, because duh. Moms with kids don't try anything on. At least I've learned this lesson.

No, but do you know the absolute WORST thing about momhead?

I really wouldn't have it any other way.

Or is that the best thing about it?