adult supervision.

messy table covered with flour in kitchen

Sometimes this house could really use a responsible adult, then I remember… that’s supposed to be me.

There have been so many articles written and comments made when babies are born about how new parents are like “I can’t believe let let us take this baby home, we have no idea what we are doing”. I’m still there guys, 20 years later. I certainly can’t say I’ve learned nothing, I’ve learned SO MANY things over the years. For example, I’ve learned that if you accidentally wash a disposable diaper you will spend hours trying to remove absorbent gel from your washing machine. I’ve learned that if children are too quiet, they are probably redecorating their bedroom with baby powder and baby oil to create a “wonderland”.

My oldest child is now over 20, so I consider this like some badge of honor. See? I’ve kept one alive and well for 20 years, I got this! But, let’s face it. I don’t always “got this”.

My brain is so full of holes from lack of sleep, over stretching it, mental health issues, etc. that sometimes it forgets how to function at the most basic level. Yesterday, I purchased a small booklight so I can hit the ever growing pile of books on my end table while everyone sleeps. I removed it from the package and found that it didn’t work. GREAT. I picked up the only one that was faulty, though it probably just needed new batteries. While I searched for new batteries on Amazon (because for some reason my brain went to that rather than exchanging it at the store less than 2 miles from my house) I read the packaging to see what I needed to get. It read as follows “book light is fitted with 3 x AG3 (LR41) batteries”. Excellent, let’s type that in the search bar. You know what the next line was? “before use, open battery compartment at back and remove insulation tape”. Yeah, genius. How about reading the box. It totally works now, by the way.

I’ve also been attempting, semi-regularly, to do things to take care of myself. I started a skin care routine and I’ve been trying to keep my nails done. I started buying press on stickers because that can’t be hard right? And bonus, no drying time! Well, here’s the human trusted to mother a family of 7:

Look close y’all, two different patterns. I can’t even be trusted with nail stickers.

Most people refer to this as ‘mom brain’ and I’m wondering if the symptoms multiply for every child you birth? I know I’m not alone on this one- I’d love to hear your “what in the hell am I doing, like for real” stories!

Published by awadleigh

Mother of 5, lover of food, goofy by trade.

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