Wednesday, August 01, 2012

Additionally, I'm also a grate speller too

I don't know if it's post-pregnancy or sleep deprivation or just the way things go, but anymore, I retain information for approximately 15 minutes.

And I can't remember words.  And I'm regularly unsure of whether I said something out loud or just in my head. Seriously. I'm constantly all: Did I just ask her if she wanted a drink out loud? Or did I just think it?

It can make conversation with me a little awkward. You might think that I really really want you to have a glass of water, for example.

So a couple weeks ago, I had coffee a woman I'd met a while ago through a mutual friend. I liked her and her husband when I met them, and they a daughter about Jordan's age, but we never got together as they were moving away. Turns out they moved back, and I ran into her and her husband on the street one day.

We discovered we both had second children born days apart, and arranged to meet up at Tryst to talk about all things new mothery and such.

The day we met I was having a particularly vocabularly-challenged kind of day. Like, we were talking about our deliveries, and I could not for the life of me come up with the word anesthesiologist. In situations like this, I do a version of out-loud charades. I gesticulate and pantomime and describe.

"You know, the person with the needle, and the pain medicine and they make you sit still..."

(Seven syllables, first syllable...)

"Anesthesiologist?"

"Yes!"

I can't remember the other stellar example, but genuinely, it was something like ice cube.

"You know, it's square and cold and you put it in drinks..."

Here I feel compelled to mention that this woman is extremely intelligent, has a law degree from somewhere impressive, and is friends with a number of my crazy-smart friends.

So.

We wound up talking about everything pregnancy and childbirth and the challenges of juggling a toddler and a newborn. Which led to a discussion of drinking during pregnancy and nursing.

She said that a friend of hers didn't drink at all during her pregnancy or the entire time she nursed, which was well over a year. She contended that her friend's child - the same age as her first daughter and my son - was clearly smarter than her daughter. And she wondered if this ought to be attributed to alcohol consumption, no matter how minimal.

I said, "You know, I drank wine while I was pregnant with Jordan, and while I was nursing. He's pretty sharp and he has terrific language skills."

Then I realized that I probably sounded like one of those assholey ooh my kid is sooo amazing kinds of parents.

So I added, "I think he takes after me. I have to use my fingers and toes to do math, but language has always been my strong suit."

Pregnant pause...

Ice cube! Anesthesiologist? Four syllables, sounds like drink of water? Unless I already said that out loud?

17 comments:

  1. It has been posited by multiple persons with experience in this area that one's areas of typical mental prowess are the first to go, in the face of the hormone and sleep-deprivation combo.

    And I don't think you could ever sound like one of THOSE parents.

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    1. Oh, Jess, I love yoouuuu!

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    2. The feeling is, of course, mutual. :o)

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  2. It warms my heart to know that a person I hold in high regard and whom I am quite certain is brilliant can have these lapses. It's not age or brains... it's having kids! I feel comforted somehow. And I agree with Jess, you don't sound like a Those parent.

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    1. I wish you didn't live so far away and I could just reach out and hug you for calling me brilliant. I mean, for other reasons as well, but wow, you made my month!

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  3. My son was born mid-April. I have a 2 year old daughter. This post is extremely reassuring to me that I, in fact, am not alone in the "losing my mental faculties" department. Here's to hoping they return before our children turn 18...

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    1. Yes, here's hoping. Hope hope hope.

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  4. HA! This is awesome! I am not preggo, but I do have severe med-school induced sleep deprivation. It's definitely the sleep loss, because I seriously cannot form words. This leads to a bad situation when you look like a fool who can't talk, but since my classmates report the same difficulty talking, I can only assume that it's normal.

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    1. Wow, that is interesting. It's debilitating! The sleep deprivation kills me, makes me so crabby.

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  5. Children do it to you. I'm convinced that to grow their brains, they siphon ours.

    Hearing my mom and I have a conversation is ridiculous. Neither one of us can think of anything! (And I was an English major. I read stuff. Big, fancy-schmancy stuff. Alot. And now my conversations sound like "You know! That thing! With the thing. You know. From that guy.")

    Well, at least I'm in good company. . .

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    1. I have this grim visual of my children siphoning out my brain! Hilarious and creepy.

      Thank you for sharing this. Yes, good company.

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  6. Hormones are assholes. Now that I'm perimenopausal, I can't remember the simplest of words. I'm not even able to issue a description. I sit with my hand held up in the universal "stop" signal because I'm so tired of my family finishing my sentences for me. And, you know them, they do it in a very unhelpful way. I might be trying to say vacuum and they're interjecting things like Geiger Counter, Tardis, duct tape!

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    1. OK, so now I feel lucky, as I don't have anyone sticking alternate and unhelpful words into my sentences! But now Nick will read this and start doing so. :)

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  7. I take preventative migraine medication that does the same thing to me. Sounds like we are all in good company, for one reason or another! Miss you!

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    1. Miss you, too! I hope you are doing well (despite the migraine meds and being in the same mental boat as me)! Hugs, Stacey!

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  8. The four children fried my brain, but premature menopause liquified and sucked it out whole like a giant water bug rips a frog from its skin.

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    1. Dana, that is a very very terrible visual on so many levels. Impressive.

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