Suds in the brain

At first, I explained this as “new-mom” syndrome.  Can’t recall names of products, snapping fingers…just letting sentences die off and moving onto next subject.  Back then everyone helped you finish sentences, because simply looking at you in your state of dress, or lack of clothing, and hair sticking up or in a messy bun/pony…possibly half naked with breast pump in hand…or you’re chasing the toddler ready to launch himself into a somersault down the stairs…

No one expected you to be able to form complete sentences. You’re doing too many things.  It’s understandable.  But that excuse kinda goes out the window, when your kids are starting their teens.

Now, you do get a “freebie” because everyone in the family got used to you calling each other by different names.  That doesn’t go away.  My son especially loves when I refer to him as Ozo, our dog.  And Vice versa…(what, seriously, they act the same way, no wonder I get confused)…now he just answers.  It might be in the form of “argggh / uhhh” whine/grunt.. ( a primitive language I’m not fluent) but he acknowledges that I’m trying to talk to him while he flops around on the floor or couch or walks like that thing we see on tv.

However, yesterday…my husband started running the water to do that night’s dishes, and as he squeezed an empty bottle of Dawn, attempting to get out remnants, instead only little bubbles escaped and capered about,

“Hey, hon…there’s uh…uh.. more under the sink.  (continued squeezing sound)…there’s more uh..soap, washing stuff under the sink…detergent (squeezy-squeezy)…uh…uh…there’s more!”

For the love of god, I couldn’t remember the words, “Dish Washing Liquid” and he enjoyed listening to my struggle!  He did extra dry-squeezes on purpose, as with each squeeze, my voice went up a level in agitation, and a couple bubbles would escape and float.  And he never once helped me find the illusive words.  (jerk-face)

I suppose I get to use the “I’m a parent of a teenager” excuse now… you can’t expect much from me when I have to fight over whether or not my son is going to shower that day or my daughter will eat the dinner you made or who gets the living room tv, or explain the reason why we need to wear deodorant for the 100th time.  (or why we need to put some clothes on)

arghggh (I’m practicing my teenage son’s language)

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29 thoughts on “Suds in the brain

    1. Oh, yes! I’ll release the comments so you can link it. Sorry, was trying to just have pings _ and totally forgot about those not wordpress related. Hahahah. Give me a minute!

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    1. too seconds, dude! I just released it. I’m not just going to allow people to willy/nilly ping with SPAM always lurking! My settings are set to notify and allow me to quickly check to ensure not spam. It’s not targeting you specifically. Only pings.

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  1. It gets worse, I’m sorry to say, when your estrogen packs its… you know, those rectangular things you put stuff in and moves permanently to that southern state with the sunshine… you know.. the one with alligators… and leaves you far behind.

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    1. You could simply say “When Aunt FLO visits?” – but your way is much more descriptive. I don’t know about the alligator part! Ha! and yes, I agree…which makes me wonder about my calendar and what date FLO is visiting.

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    2. Oh you sweet young fool, I was referring to when FLO no longer visits. When she packs her bags for younger pastures. Bless your sweet, blissfully ignorant, too-young-to-know-the-horrors heart.

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    3. Oh, I’ll be hit with a HOT flash every so often. WHEW – why is it so damn hot in here! Isn’t it hot? Aren’t you hot? I feel like I just got really embarrassed about something and my face is on fire.

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  2. Take my word for it. It only gets worse as you get older.

    “Hey Babe, where do you keep that thingie?”

    “That what?”

    “You know, that doohickey thing. Whaddya call it?”

    “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

    “Sure you do. It’s that thing that you wash grapes in before putting them in the bowl.”

    “You mean the colander?”

    “Yeah, that thing. Where is it?”

    “It’s in the thingie drawer where we keep all of our doohickies.”

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    1. YUP! the other day, I referred to the liquid measuring cup as a Pyrex. My husband was like, “Pyrex is just the name of a glass. That’s a measuring cup.” Give me the thing with the lines on it that I can measure milk to make this Hamburger Helper. Thanks.

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    1. I’ll say “whew, you need to put some on!” And I’ll get, I don’t smell / you smell / you are smelling yourself..or they will say it’s their sibling! Then I YELL – how can you now smell yourself!!! Doesn’t it gross you out? It gross me out.

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    1. Jim, now why did you have to go and say that… actually, the more “disaster” waiting to happen is my son. And driving… that is what I’m more worried about – My daughter – I actually feel sorry for any boy that wants to date her…she can handle her own…I’ll be begging her, “please go easy on him. Be nice.”

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