Since it was Mother's Day & since I am a mom

I am at the stage in my life where I am no longer a person... I am a MOM. The stage where I try to remember what life used to be like without kids and I cannot remember. It's like the 21 pre-children years of my life have become a blur.

Some things I can recall, like the time I was 4 and I pulled a knife on one of our maids while we lived in Chile. I cornered that poor old woman, taunting her with the knife swaying back and forth saying, "Hermana Lopez!" and then I'd jump, inching my way closer and closer to her. I don't really remember how it ended. I think, maybe, her frantic yelling for my mom paid off. And I don't remember any blood shed. So that's a positive.

Or the time I was 10 and I didn't want to go to school so I faked my own vomit. How, you ask, does one fake their own vomit? Easy. A couple of eggs, small pieces of bread, and a scoop full of last nights left-overs dumped out strategically on the floor somewhere between my bedroom and the bathroom making it look like I made an honest effort to reach the toilet. Again, I don't remember the outcome, but I think it ended with me staying home either because I was grounded or because my mom took pity on me in my stomach flu like state. Either way, I'd call it a success.

Or the time I was 13 and I was lost somewhere between rebellion and desperate soul searching, I shaved off the back of my hair. Yep. I put my hair up into a pony tail, took the clippers, and just buzzed the bottom of my hair off.  Needless to say, it did nothing to help me out in the desperate soul searching department. 

Or maybe fast forward to the time I was 19, during my short shorts wearing days. Those were good days. And I went to visit my sweet Grandma and noticed, during our visit, that there was and extremely good looking painter painting away on her deck. So I placed myself ever so strategically on the couch near the window trying to catch that workers attention. It worked. My father would not have been proud.  Turns out that extremely good looking painter ended up being my husband.

Now I am a Mom of 4 and I officially have Mom brain- the phenomenon known to women where after they become pregnant any part of sanity, firm recollection, or the ability to carry on a conversation without forgetting what there talking about slowly disappears. The more kids you have, the worse it gets and soon, before you know it, the Mom's brain is rendered completely useless.  

The only hope a mother has of ever being normal again (I use the term 'normal' loosely... very loosely) is medication and a really good therapist. And even then, the odds aren't good. My completely non-professional professional studies show that the mother's brian has a 28% successful recovery rate. 

With that said, there are 4 reasons why I'm content replacing my functioning brain with a defective Mom brain that gives out on me on any given day at any given moment. The reasons aren't elaborate or fancy. They are simple, short, and occasionally sweet. And those reasons are Abrie, Kaleb, Macie, and Eden. 

I am a Mom and I find more purpose in my life now than I ever did... 

At least I think I do, I can't remember.

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