Saturday, April 4, 2009
Today, I feel like this woman. Let's call her Frazzled Mom.
My car is a mess, as is our precious (scant) living space. Laundry coming out my ears, dirty dishes in the sink, an empty fridge, a full trash can... need I go on??
Looking ahead, I never would have guessed this would be me. I would have denied, to the death, that I'd ever become completely over-run by my Mommy Brain. My eyes would have rolled back in my head if you had suggested, even mere months ago, that I would consistently let my gas tank drop to dangerous lows... or that I'd develop a (scary) habit of inhaling my food--insurance that my plate is clean before the baby has a chance to cry. Do you have any idea what that has the potential to do to your waistline?!
I cannot tell you exactly how, or when, I became this person. Logic tells me it happened somewhere between November 29th and, well, now? But I certainly haven't a clue when it really took place. This... this... transformation.
Never, in a million years, did I think the force would overtake me. You know the one, ladies--the overwhelming lack of ability to complete anything on time. Ever again. Even if your life depends on it. Hey, preggie friends, have I scared the bajeebers out of you yet? Sorry. Sort of.
Tell me, does it get better? Am I doomed to feel like FM for the rest of my life? Heaven help us all if I'm stuck like this forever. Heaven help Ryan, especially, who probably doesn't let a day slip by that he doesn't wonder what happened to his wife. The organized one, anyway.