Mommy Brain


Today I had jury duty and completely forgot all about it. COMPLETELY. I have been looking at the slip of paper for over a week, which is sitting on my computer desk as a reminder to NOT FORGET to call and let them know that I’m not coming, they can’t make me, so THERE. Though I must admit, I feel the need to confess. A little part of me was actually kind of intrigued by it all. They want me? ME? I must be special or something. Maybe it would be a big interesting murder trial or something. While I realize that it’s not very nice to fantasize about a person being murdered and the need of a murder trial to inject a bit of interest into my boring life, I can’t say that I didn’t have a moment or two where I actually considered doing everything within my power to ditch the kidlets with an unsuspecting relative in order to fulfill my civic duty. (Award for best run-on sentence ever goes to… (wait for it)… ME!)

I was reminded that I had somewhere to be as I talked on the phone with a friend of mine, and she said something about a county clerk (some sort of clerk, I don’t know) in a book she’s reading. Clerk? Jury DUTY! Expletive, expletive! Then I got off of the phone and called the court, where I sat on hold for no less than twenty minutes before my phone abruptly hung up. Needs charging, read the caller-id. Niiiice. I’m going to go TO JAIL to be beaten with sticks because you are a needy shithead who needs to be charged CONSTANTLY, lest you just give up and die. Hate, hate, red-hot HATE you, cheap stupid VTech phone.

So I haven’t talked to anyone from the court yet, and I honestly don’t know what to do. Call and beg? Be honest and tell them that I read the paper extensively doing the one-eyed mom speed-read? Feed them my excuses? Plead for a break because MY KIDS, they make me insane and my HUSBAND, he worked every day last week except Sunday and it’s his fault I don’t know what day it is and my PHONE, wouldn’t let me call if I even really, really wanted to? Blech. Blah. Wretch. Help?

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As in, I am totally not one. Alaina just locked herself in her bedroom, and it took me an embarrassingly extended amount of time to get her out. I finally resorted to googling ‘how to unlock an interior door’, and after reading a four sentence paragraph, it was easy. I’m just glad she was locked in her bedroom, which is totally toddler-proof. It also helps to know that she sat in her room, on her bed the whole time, telling me that 1) no, she would not open the door, and 2) she wanted some ice cream. I think the emotional scarring is minimal (for her, at least).

I’m 26 weeks pregnant, and so far I have done the following ridiculous, completely brain-dead things:

  • Not been able to understand plain English when my OB was explaining… something to me at my last prenatal appointment.
  • Forgot my own middle name after previously mentioned appointment when the (somewhat snarky) receptionist was calling in a prescription for me.
  • Left to go Christmas/grocery/whatever shopping and returned home to find both my front door and my screen door wiiiiiide open, and not because I happened to return while someone was robbing my house.
  • Left my bank card in an ATM. I have cash now, no more need for plastic! Dum de dum…

Those are the main things so far. I don’t know how I’m going to make it these next few months without forgetting who I am, where I live, or to take Alaina out of the shopping cart at the store BEFORE I drive away, wondering why she is being so quiet.