Disjointed

There are two things I need to do, and I should do them right now. First is to clean out my purse. It's a horrible mess of papers, loose change, and stuff I really don't need. The second thing I need to do is throw my journal back in there.

In the past few weeks I've had some amazing ideas of things that I wanted to blog about. These thoughts just hit me out of the blue and I am itching to get home and write about them. But I don't make note of the idea or I think that I'll still remember it when I get home. I seem to forget in those moments that I have a two year old son running around and even if the idea is still strong when I get home, there is no guarantee that I'll be able to sit down at the computer long enough to pound out the idea on the keyboard. Usually what happens is the idea hits, I think its beyond awesome and I keep repeating it over and over in my head, trying to have it impress itself in my consciousness. I swear that when I get home, I'll set Hunter up with something to play with, something that will keep him completely occupied and I'll sit down here at my computer and blog or write about this amazing idea.  So I get home and Hunter needs to be changed, or he is hungry or he just will not leave me alone, not even for a minute. So I cave and give him my attention. I pull the wooden blocks out of his toy chest and we sit on the floor playing with blocks. Then, before I know it, its 5:30 and I need to start getting supper ready. Punk Boy comes home around this time so there is the distraction of him and my son. Supper gets on the table, we eat and then I usually clean up the kitchen and give the boy a bath. Then there is a little bit more play time and then a story before bed and then he's tucked in.

By this time, I've completely forgotten what it was I wanted to write about. Its a shame. Not only does it mean this grand idea is now lost somewhere far off, it also is a constant reminder that my baby brain still isn't completely gone.

I swear I got stupid when I got knocked up. The simplest things were so hard to do mostly because I couldn't retain a goddamn thing. Punk Boy said to me today that while I am 'book smart,' I'm lacking 'logical smarts.' Did I have these before the kid was born? Did I lose the logical side of me then or did it just never really exists and I was mostly kidding myself? I wonder about myself sometimes, really. Its scary to realize your brain doesn't function the way it used to.

I can relate a little bit to my mother, who in the last ten years or so, always talks about how she is losing her memory, and how annoying and upsetting it can be. I would laugh it off constantly and tell her not to worry, that it really isn't as bad as she thinks it is.  Maybe I'm just falling down with her?

There are things I need to do. I need to get rid of the clutter - mentally and physically. My desk at work is spotless, but my desk at home is in chaos and I feel like I'm in chaos. I need to clean this shit up. It's a new year, I should be focusing on starting fresh and keeping better track of things and myself.

Maybe then I wouldn't feel so disjointed.