So, ok, I know it’s been a while since I have been ‘home’ and I know within that period of time I have had a lot going on.
Including but not limited to;
- Getting knocked up,
- Getting fat,
- Losing the ability to control my bladder,
- Giving birth (yes that is the right order)
- Having no sleep,
- Losing my hair, (and the will to live on occasion.)
- Growing back ridiculous tufts, (But only around my forehead?!?)
- And last but not least, finally losing my grip on reality,
But honestly? I am really not sure I can keep on using Baby Brain as an excuse for the ever growing list of embarrasing fuck ups, I seem to be tallying up, almost on a daily basis! I mean it’s been nine months! Shouldn’t this have stopped by now?
There was me hoping, wanting, praying that admitting;
‘My arse stitches are excruciating, could you please, please get me some painkillers or at the very least check them?’
To a woman I thought was my nurse, two days after finally birthing Addison (turns out she was visiting the lady in the bed next to me, and will probably never wear that outfit when visiting a hospital again) was surely the most humiliating moment of my entire life (yes worse than the actual stitching up, and yes, far worse for me than it was for her. She could giggle, I could not.) And it couldn’t get worse than that right? I’ve had the baby now, so surely, my brain goes back to normal RIGHT? Wrong.
We were running low on nappies. And due to my baby brain I could not remember the translation. Actually come to think of it, I have never had to use the word for nappy in Spanish before. This is the first time in my life I have been home with child. This is the first time in my life I have ever been home responsible for anything other than myself. Previous trips home have usually and mainly been about visiting friends, going skiing and drinking stupid amounts of una vodka y cranberry porfavor! While enjoying copious amounts of chocolate, and family time with my dad balanced perfectly with random parties on the beach and watching the sun come up, with old friends. *Stares off longingly in to the middle distance* (the Titanic theme, may or may not be playing in the background…)
So although I will blame BABY BRAIN (got it?) on my forgetting the word for nappies and what happened after that, (oh the shame!) it is actually, in all fairness, a fairly new word in my vocabulary too.
(Nappies and ‘Holy shit balls’ that is, which I have picked up somewhere (probably Ireland) and have fallen in love with. I can’t stop saying it. It’s popped itself alongside a fair few near misses in the last few days, let me tell you. I am sure the air steward will use it now too! He seemed impressed! But anyway….. Actually while we are on this subject, I am hoping Addison’s first word will be Dada (Yeah right) or Mama (got it Addison? MAMA!!) But at this rate, if I carry on holyshit balling everything, there is no doubt in my mind, the day will come when he will open his arms in a gesture that says mama, but will instead shout SHITBALLS in all it’s glory. (And I don’t mind either. I would still prefer it to dada! Ahem!)
I am not going to tell you exactly how I communicated my urgent need for nappies, across to the random woman (who looked like a mother but thinking back now, she had no child with her!) on the street at 9 o’clock this morning. Because there is no need to.
It was just me and her on a quiet village street.
I was armed with a full days worth of christmas day, charades practice.
It was meant to be a cinch!
Turns out it was harder than I thought.
It very quickly materialised in to a very badly and graphically played game of the worst and most embarrassing kind of charades I have ever played with a stranger.
(Well? Think about it! How would you act out the word for nappy?!)
She went red.
My actions became more manic.
She went crimson.
I grabbed my arse and blew a raspberry.
But we got there in the end.
Or at least I thought we did.
Turns out? The direct translation of nappies to Spanish is Panales.
Not toallas higenicas.
It is during a horrifying moment of realisation, while being shown to the sanitary towels and incontinence pads, that I realise with a sinking heart, I never once used the words ‘for the baby’ during my rendition to the innocent (please god be a mother) on the street.
The horror, the horror!
Kill me now.
No! I’m serious!
Or at the very leaset please tell me I am not going to have to live the rest of my life with half a brain! I only had half a brain to begin with! (Thought I’d say it before you did!)
This baby brain goes doesn’t it?
Calling all mothers!
The baby brain goes DOESN’T IT?!?????