My brain is completely scrambled, and it’s a completely new and uncomfortable feeling. I’ve always had the mind of a well-organized day planner, no matter how far ahead or insignificant the event, I could always remember exactly what needed to be done. Even after I had kids.

I’ve had to, more so after I got married. My husband, brilliant guy that he is, has the short-term memory of a distracted squirrel. He can lose focus from the task at hand with a then tiniest bit of something shiny. Which has led to keys left in locks, wallets left on car roofs (and scattered all around the county), stove tops on, car trunks and fridge doors left gaping open, pant flies unzipped, appointments missed, the list goes on. So I became the de facto Memory Person. And frankly, with two kids in two different schools, both with everything that goes along with said schools, my memory imploded in a way that has never happened before.

So far in the past two weeks, I’ve repeatedly forgotten to give checks to E’s morning school, forgotten to pack lunches, repeatedly forgot the dates of several appointment for both kids (luckily caught them before I missed them), forgot early dismissal days, and paid my car payment twice this month. To some people, that might sound like a normal month, but being the walking day planner for two forgetful children and one forgetful adult, lately my brain feels like like it’s trying to catch butterflies with a tuna net. It’s incredibly frustrating. And now my kitchen cabinets are papered with school reminders and other notes, in the vague hopes that I won’t forget anything major. You know, like Thanksgiving.