'Pregnancy brain' is a real deal affliction. I did the most absurd things when I was pregnant, and I attributed it (with good reason, I consistently contend) to the fact that my brain was focusing largely on building someone else's circulatory system within my body.
I mean, for real. That's legit.
Robb's favorite story (perhaps you've heard it) was when he came home from work to find all the doors left open, frozen meatballs in the pantry, and his great-with-child wife asleep in bed with her puffy ankles.
I read somewhere, I'm pretty sure, that a woman's brain decreases in size and/or capacity up to 5% (or was it 20%...) with each pregnancy, and she only partially regains it back in the postpartum recovery.
I'm pretty sure that was a reliable source. Or I made it up. Also entirely possible.
I have what I call 'widow brain.'
I forget the end of a sentence after the first half has left my mouth.
I forget the day of the week, the plans for the afternoon, how to load the dishwasher or fold the laundry with any degree of efficiency, where my keys (or shoes or glasses) are, to get the mail, to turn on the lights, to eat lunch... I forget.
My closest friends have become as comfortable as I am with the word 'widow.' I toss it around easily.
"Don't take advantage of me. I'm a widow."
"Whatever. Laugh at my jokes. I'm a widow."
"Do you think they offer a widow's discount?"
My girlfriends will toss out things that, taken out of context, would sound ridiculously insensitive.
"Oh, shut up, widow."
"I think you have it worse than I do." "Why, because I'm a widow?"
"Whatever, widow. Take your meds."
We laugh every time.
One of them once said, "I think it's so silly to call you a widow, because it's just so ridiculous that you are one."
It is ridiculous. It's ridiculous and absurd.
And you know who would tease me the most about this mental incapacity of 'Widow Brain'?
And I most assuredly recognize the irony in that statement.