Dead Air. Um. Dead Air.

Rusty. Rusty writing. Can't create a sentence. chop chop. Delete. blah blah. Blah Blah. Nothing to say. NO thing to say.

This is my brain.

No, it is not my brain on drugs. Although frying (scrambling) eggs at least twice a week does have something to do with it.  (Good ol' cheap and wholesome eggs for growing minds.)

This is my brain on motherhood.

This is the brain that hasn't had to write a complete sentence other than a haphazard text in the last 2.5 years.  This is the brain that has only read baby sleep books, baby sleep web pages, baby board books, yogurt labels and toddler tantrum advice.

This is the brain that starts one thing, and then notices another and then gets neither done.  Yogurt for child #1, wait, get spoon too... grab yogurt for child #2, wait, spoon, spoon #1 on the floor. Bib, de-bibbed. Re-bibbed. "That's my bib", switch bibs. De-bibbed, re-bibbed. Spoon hits the turf. Yogurt wiped up. Wait-- coffee? Re-heat coffee... "No, you cannot have mommy's coffee... it is for mommies."   "I want sis's yellow yogurt" Switch yogurts, re-bib. wash spoon... "I"m done"-- "What?!" mommy hasn't even sat down yet. RE-heat coffee. Wipe face. Wipe hands and "Off to the Races!"

I feel like the song by Dead or Alive "You Spin Me Round" (you know.. "You spin me right round, baby right round like a record player, right round round round.)  Please don't look up the YouTube video, you might have nightmares.  I think I'm really starting to date myself- that's the second 80's reference in this blog post.

I'm trying to slowly claim my brain back.  I've given in that I will be humming toddler tunes all day long and counting, naming and identifying objects all day long. "yes, that's a purple cow.. I mean flower." But, between the hours of 8-10pm or whenever I happen to crash on the couch-- I want to reclaim my mom brain.

Where did that deep thinking philosophizing, reflective girl go?  Where did that cuddle up for a good book with actually chapters and thin pages (not a board book) go?  I don't blame my hiatus.

I had good reasons for my Dead Air on the Radio.  And this post is my "UM"... so there might just be some more dead air to follow.  But I promise-  in the motherhood sort of-- "wait, what did I just say?", sort of promise,  I'm going to write again someday. Yes sir re. These fingers were made for typing.