"Why Did I Just Come Into the Kitchen?" and Other Unanswerable Questions, Because #MomBrain

Mom brain is a very. real. thing.

Before you became a mom, you had so much brain space that was either completely vacant, or stored with the most valuable or invaluable information – like every single word to the entire Backstreet Boys Millennium album (“tell me whyeeeeeeeeeee….Ain't nothin' but a heartache…”)

And then you got pregnant and began experiencing the symptoms of pregnancy brain. Scientists have their theories about whether or not this is a chemical thing, but my BFF Aimee has her own theory. Her thought is this: if you count up the mental capacity you spend each day of pregnancy thinking about, dreaming out, worrying about, planning for, shopping for, researching all things baby…where does the rest of the stuff that your brain used to hold for you? Out the window. That’s where it goes. It’s gone and it is never coming back.

Photo by the always-amazing (even though my face is farrrrrr from amazing in this)  Megan Mellinger Photography ! Another in the Reset Yoself Women’s Event photo shoot that should get you HYPED to attend this amazing event on September 14th, 2019!

Photo by the always-amazing (even though my face is farrrrrr from amazing in this) Megan Mellinger Photography! Another in the Reset Yoself Women’s Event photo shoot that should get you HYPED to attend this amazing event on September 14th, 2019!

  • Why did I come into the kitchen? Who knows! But I do know that newborns need 18-20 hours of sleep a day.

  • How come the water is running? Beats me! But I do know the 17 fastest routes to the hospital.

  • What’s your name again? Never mind, sport. All I need to know is that my baby’s name was the most popular name in America for the past 6 years.

And then the baby enters the world and more thoughts exit your brain.

And then the baby grows and your brain capacity seemingly shrinks.

And then you get pregnant again and your belly explodes with new life and your brain wilts more and more with each passing second.

And then you’re mama, mommy, and then mom. And your brain is so chock full of your children’s every stinking need that some days you completely forget how to function.

Think I’m joking? Ha, you know I’m not!

Last week, I was so excited to take my girl to the park (hellooooooo sunshine!!!) that I pulled out of the driveway before remembering that I had a pie in the oven!

Mother of the Year Arwen came to the I Am Mother of the Year Facebook group to share this:

I went to the store specifically to get my 21-month-old milk. $75 later at Target and dragging her and my 4-month-old along, I realized that I left the jug of milk in the cart in the parking lot.

And she’s not alone. We’ve all been there.

One of my (other) latest blunders is that I keep forgetting that I have to feed my family every single night. This fact takes me by surprise almost every single day around 3:30 or 4 in the afternoon. Gone are the days of intentional meal-planning and leisurely walks through three different grocery stores to ensure the best possible deals. Here-to-stay are the days of hot dogs, frozen pizzas, and salads that I promise myself I’ll eat and then end up throwing in the trash because I can’t pass up the hot dogs and the frozen pizzas.

So where’s the hope?

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Is there any left for the mama in the trenches who has to choose between a shower or an extra 15 minutes of much-needed sleep?

Is there any hope for the exhausted chauffeur who wrongly assumed that because the kids were now out of school, she would have a little less windshield time running the kids from here to there and back again?

Is there any hope for the sweet mama crying into a kitchen towel in the dark pantry hoping that she doesn’t get caught by the very humans who are running her completely ragged?

Yes. There’s hope.

And it’s this: There’s hope in the simple truth that you’re doing the best that you can. There’s hope in the humor of almost burning your house down to provide 20 minutes of fun for your 4-year-old. There’s hope in the absolute ridiculousness of leaving the one item you went to the store for in the shopping cart in the parking lot.

There’s hope in the fact that God has given you everything you need to the best mother to your children. There’s hope that He hears the deep sighs and the silent cries for help. There’s hope that He’s trying to get your attention to remind you that He’s right there in the midst of it with you.

There’s hope in vulnerability, community, and taking off the brave face.


And if your #mombrain can only remember one thing from the sentences on this page, I hope you know that you are and forever ever ever will be Mother of the Year just because you are YOU. Don’t forget it!

So let’s hear it – give me your worst, best, craziest, you’re-never-going-to-believe-this #mombrain story!

Lisa Graft1 Comment