Updated: Feb. 8, 2017
Originally Published: November 30, 2016
My children are wreaking havoc on my mental faculties. This isn’t just your typical “mommy brain” — that hazy confusion that hits when you’re running on just a few hours of sleep with a toddler in tow. My kids are older now, well past the baby stage, and should theoretically require less of my brainpower. Yet, every day feels like I’m navigating a mental minefield.
There are instances when I genuinely question my mental health. Just the other morning, as we were scrambling to get out the door for yet another family obligation, I blurted out, “Where’s my… uh, bag? The leather… you know, the one I keep my stuff in. Ugh! Where did I put it? I left it right here on the… where we eat. Gah!”
Purse. Table. Basic English. Am I losing my marbles? No, no — I blame my kids. I blame parenthood. That jumbled sentence escaped me under the pressure of time and surrounded by a whirlwind of other frantic thoughts: reminders to find shoes, wondering if my youngest had “taken her last pee” (seriously, the girl pees like a racehorse), hollering at my son for leaving the milk out yet again, and asking myself why every light in the house is blazing!
And that’s just a typical morning! Lately, I’ve found myself increasingly frustrated by how much of my mental energy is consumed by managing children — reprimanding them, reminding them, comforting them, planning for them, and even filling out forms on their behalf. It’s exhausting.
I knew parenthood would be challenging; I anticipated sacrifices. But there are aspects of parenting that you can’t truly grasp until you’re knee-deep in it and wishing you had a pause button. I never expected to spend 30 minutes detangling a mess of shoelaces or to be yanked from my focus because someone decided to get their head stuck under the couch. And let’s not even discuss the time I had to intervene because an entire roll of toilet paper somehow ended up in a toilet filled with… well, you get the picture.
The constant noise is maddening. The songs, the humming, the banging, the screeching — it’s non-stop. How can one think with all that chaos? I miss having uninterrupted thoughts. I miss college when I was challenged to dissect complex ideas. I miss the thrill of grappling with a big concept and savoring the “aha” moment.
These days, I’d settle for a single uninterrupted thought. But with my kids occupying every nook and cranny of my brain, that feels like a distant dream.
Just as I was reflecting on all of this, my 6-year-old burst in and exclaimed, “Mommy! You know that squishy stuff on your leg? That’s all muscle to help you stand up!” Adorable, yes, but I’m trying to focus here!
What was I saying? Oh yes, my kids are ever-present, noisy, and sadly, they’re turning my brain into mush. Do other parents with older kids feel this way? Am I losing it? Am I giving too much of myself?
I do encourage my kids to entertain themselves and solve their conflicts independently. I’m not hovering over them, but even that process requires time, effort, and mental creativity. By the time I finally get them to amuse themselves, I’m left too drained to think the thoughts I long to explore.
And of course, just as I gather a moment of clarity, I hear the familiar sounds of arguing, crashing, or crying. Just like that, my thoughts evaporate. The other day, in a rare moment of quiet, I asked my husband how anyone manages to have more than two kids. He reminded me that one day, I’ll miss this chaotic phase — that the silence of an empty house will feel heavier than all the noise ever did. Not quite the comforting thought I was hoping for, but he’s right. I know I’ll miss this frenzy someday.
Right now, however, my mind is so stretched that contemplating enjoying the moment feels like advanced calculus. So, until that quiet day arrives, I’ll keep searching for moments of peace, locking my office door, and politely asking my lovely children to give me some space when I need to concentrate — at least until someone manages to get stuck under the couch again.