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Katy England Katy England
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edge staff writer


Forget me not

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The running joke is that the babies ate my brain. Even in utero, my mental capacity shrank considerably. Since they've started sleeping through the night, things have gotten better, but I think it's safe to say that I'm still not 100 percent. I'd be the first person to tell you that I'm a crazy person but I happen to know what kind of crazy I am. I'm the forgetful crazy.

When I had a recent 'annual' physical I knew I was late like a year late. I did the math, because my kids make great watermarks for when I last did a thing. I had a full memory of speaking with one of the RNs about planning a playdate (that never manifested because of the aforementioned eaten brain). But they said I was later than that that I must be remembering something else.

But I don't make new memories. That just isn't my type of crazy. Tabula rasa, baby.

I've forgotten my laptop at home. I've forgotten my laptop at work. I've double-booked appointments because I forgot to put one in my calendar. I planned a work trip on my kids' birthdays because I forgot to merge my personal and professional calendars. I've forgotten relatives' birthdays. I've forgotten my own birthday. I've missed my exit on the highway because I forgot I wasn't going to work, but trying to make a different appointment. I can't remember people's names people I know well and care about. I will stare at their friendly, familiar faces in utter despair knowing full-well that Iknowthem, even knowwhyI know them and unable to conjure their names to save my life (or at least my dignity).

But I've never remembered something that didn't happen.

When I do remember things, or manage to behave like a normal, sane adult, I'm inordinately proud of myself. I planned my friend's baby shower a couple years ago sent out invitation, ordered a cake, booked a room all went off without a hitch. It helped that my friend is a laid-back lady, who enjoys pub fare.

I planned and executed a business retreat for Edge staff members, booking rooms, getting directions and landing details.

These are not necessarily big deals I'm aware. However, I feel like a tactical mastermind when I pull it off. And I think it bears mentioning that I did that while still doing my regular couple of jobs, being a mom of three feral children and keeping milk in the fridge. So, yeah, I'm patting myself on the back. Deal with it.

And in the end, they found out I had been in for an appointment in 2012. So, I was only a year late, and not three years late. This is important to me. Because I know I'm crazy but I also know what kind of crazy I am.


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