Incapacitation

Long before having kids, I was driving with a friend, chatting about our lives past and present. I noticed a trend in my friend's tales. In each case, completely unrecognized by herself, she had great ambitions about something she would like to do or change in her life and then something happened to make that ambition impossibly difficult. Most of the time, it was something to do with her kids. I couldn't understand it. How could such a motivated, creative, and energetic person suddenly be incapable of meeting her goals? This scared me as a prospective mother and I wanted to know how much time I had before the chaos started, "At what point did you begin feeling incapacitated?" My friend burst out laughing, "What on earth do you mean?"

"How old were your kids when you suddenly couldn't do the things you wanted to do anymore?"

My friend laughed even harder at this, and I didn't understand why. From my perspective then, it seemed a simple question to answer. I thought about my life at that moment: trucking through grad school, husband with a stable job, good friends close by. Then I thought about her life: interrupted, spontaneous, butting heads with kids, always craving more time with friends. When would my life transform into her life? At what point would my family make my ideas and expectations fruitless (i.e. incapacitation)? I never got a straight answer from her.

I think I was asking the wrong question (and making the wrong assumptions).

Anyway, I'm thinking about all of this now because somehow in the last few weeks, I've felt incapacitated. Is it the new house/routine/car schedule? The kids getting older? Me getting older? Whatever it is, I just don't feel as sharp as I used to be and that's bothersome. Not quite worrisome, but certainly worth noticing.

I forget about appointments or arrive 30 minutes late, therefore I look like a flake. I lose my keys and wallet at least once a month. I can't work start-to-finish on anything, anytime. Just name one thing that I should be able to do start-to-finish! I can't seem to manage it. It's hard to remember words when I need them, so half of my sentences go unfinished. Alice is even finishing them for me sometimes. I've lost the ability to plan effectively on-the-fly (even installing a retractable clothesline in the laundry room proved too complex a task for my incapacitated brain...measure twice, drill once...twice...three times...oops, just once more...got it).

It sounds like sleep deprivation, but here's the kicker: I don't always get to determine how much sleep I get. Interrupted nighttime sleep is about 100% these days, between the two kids. I go to bed on time and still don't wake feeling rested.

Now I just sound like I'm whining. That's not my intent. Not productive, either. It's just this creeping feeling that I'm turning into a flake with an unpredictable vocabulary and no way of knowing that my measuring and planning is actually going to leave THREE extra holes in my wall. That kinda bothers me. A lot.

Incapacitation = not being able to do what I want to do the way I want to do it = no longer feeling like myself.

Putting it down that way just changed everything. Holy cow!

With that equation, I just realized that I've been happy with the amount of control/focus I've had in my life up until now. That's actually pretty AWESOME. What on earth am I complaining about?! Pbbbsh. It sounds like I've got to give this a little more time and a little more rest. Lots more rest. No use spiraling into a self-pitying state prematurely ;)