Apparently I can’t count.

Mommy brain strikes.

Apparently I have lost my ability to count. I was getting a cash deposit ready for Tom to take in (from selling our fridge and the garage sale last fall) and counted it twice at $2400 both times.

Tom just calls me from the credit union: “How much did you count?”

Seems it was $2320. Even had her double count it.

Yeah, apparently when I was making $100 stacks of 20s…I counted a single 20 as $100. Twice.


I don’t remember.

I seem to be saying that a lot. About everything (trying to compare to Katie).

How much did Owen eat at one time when he was a week old?
I don’t remember.

When did Owen start spitting up?
I don’t remember.

When did Owen start holding his head up on his own?
I don’t remember.

When did Owen start using a pacifier?
I don’t remember.

None of the questions are life or death, but it’s SO frustrating that I can’t seem to remember ANYTHING from when Owen was a newborn!

It’s the little things.

I hate that little things make me lose my mind lately.

Like just now, putting the sheet pan into the oven with sliced garlic bread and chicken nuggets on it, and I hit the edge just right and the entire tray tipped into the oven and across the door.

And I lost it.

None of it even hit the floor, and it was all salvageable within a minute, but I still lost it. I slammed the pan down, slammed the oven door, etc.

I hate being like this, never knowing what is going to set me off.

I blame it on sleep-deprivation.

Again, it’s a good thing Owen is cute and worth it. :D