I haven't had a fetus growing inside of me for almost two years now, but yet my brain is still not entirely my own. I can't blame hormones or sleep deprivation (though, I'd still say I'm sleep deprived, in the toddler-waking-at-3:00-AM-looking-for-her-flashlight sense.)
I set out to do something...say, make a cup of coffee...and I walk toward the coffee machine with purpose. Make coffee. But on the way there, little voices say "Mommy I need some milk!" or "Mommy, I need you to wipe me!" or "Mama, cracker peeeez?" or "Mama pick me up!" or maybe they say nothing at all, but along the way I step on something sharp or slimy or wet and I bend over to see what it is and clean it up and suddenly 45 minutes have passed and why am I so groggy? Oh yeah. I haven't had my coffee yet. Except, how can you remember to make coffee when you haven't had your coffee?
I've long given up on things like peeing and showering alone.
I've outsourced my memory to Google Calendar and a stack of spiral-bound notebooks. Anything work-related, I write down in quadruplicate. Some of my best creative work happens at my bedside table, scribbled onto a blank page when the kids are asleep and my mind is my own.
I say all this because it feels good to say it, and I'm hoping I'm not alone. I am a work-at-home mother of two children under 4 years old, and some days I think I am losing my mind.
But also, I am having the time of my life.