My children are wreaking havoc on my brain. I’m not talking about the classic “mommy brain,” that foggy state that comes from sleepless nights when the kids are tiny; my kids are older now, well into the age where they should be more self-sufficient. They are supposed to require less attention than infants. I thought I had moved past the dreaded “mommy brain” phase.
Yet, every day, I find myself grappling with even the simplest thoughts. Just the other day, as we were scrambling to leave the house for some obligatory event, I blurted out, “Where’s my…uh, bag? The leather…you know, the one I keep my stuff in. Ugh! Where is it? I left it right here on the…where we eat. Gah!”
Purse. Table. Basic English. Am I losing my mind? No, I’m placing the blame squarely on my kids. That stammered sentence was uttered amidst a whirlwind of chaos: reminders about shoes, questions about whether my 6-year-old had “used the bathroom one last time” (her bladder is a bit overactive), and yelling at my 10-year-old for leaving the milk out again. Seriously, didn’t I just tell him to put the milk away? And why are all the lights on upstairs?!
And that’s just one snapshot of my day. More often than not, I find myself resenting how much mental energy I expend managing my children—scolding them, reminding them, comforting them, planning activities, filling out forms, and feeling guilty about everything related to them.
I knew parenting would be a big responsibility and that sacrifices would be made. However, some aspects of motherhood are unfathomable until you’re entrenched in them, and by then, it’s too late to turn back.
I never anticipated spending half an hour untangling a knot or being interrupted while working because one of them got their head stuck under the couch, or that I’d have to stop everything because an entire roll of toilet paper mysteriously found its way into a toilet filled with, well, let’s just say, less than pleasant surprises.
The incessant background noise is also a huge distraction—my kids are always singing, humming, banging, screeching, yodeling… it’s a never-ending symphony of chaos. How is a person supposed to think in these conditions?
I miss my train of thought. I miss coherent sentences. I miss the days of college when I was challenged to dissect complex ideas. I miss being able to ponder a big idea for hours or days without interruption. At this point, I’d settle for an uninterrupted thought. Sadly, my children occupy every nook and cranny of my brainspace.
(Right after I typed the word “brain,” my 6-year-old dashed up to me and exclaimed, “Mommy! You know that jiggly stuff on your leg? That’s all muscle so you can hold yourself up!” Adorable, yes, but I’m trying to work here!)
What was I talking about? Oh right—my children are all over me, noisy, distracting, and slowly eroding my brainpower.
Do other parents of 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 resolve their conflicts. I’m not a helicopter mom. Yet, even the process of getting them to leave me alone requires time and creative thought. By the time I finally manage to get them to entertain themselves, I’m too emotionally drained to engage in deep thinking.
Of course, the moment my mind begins to clear, I hear them squabbling. There’s a loud crash. Someone’s crying. Just like that, I’m yanked back from my thoughts.
Recently, during a rare moment of peace, I asked my husband how anyone manages with more than two kids. I told him that if I had to handle more than that, I would completely lose my mind.
He reminded me that one day, I would miss these hectic times—that silence would feel more oppressive than the noise ever did. Not exactly the comforting words I was hoping for. But he’s right; I know I’ll miss this chaos someday.
The issue at hand is that my mind is stretched so thin there aren’t many brain cells left to appreciate the moment. That level of thought feels like trying to solve quadratic equations.
So, until that blissfully quiet day arrives, I’ll continue the good fight. I’ll seek out moments of calm, keep my office door locked, and shoo my darling kids away when I need to focus. At least, until the next time someone’s head gets stuck under the couch.
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Summary:
Motherhood can often feel overwhelming as the daily chaos and noise from children can distort one’s ability to think clearly. Balancing parenting responsibilities while trying to maintain personal thoughts can feel impossible. This humorous reflection captures the struggles of managing both the demands of children and the longing for mental clarity.