If I Only Had A Brain

Did you know that a woman's brain shrinks up to 8% during pregnancy? According to that first article that I linked, the brain increases in size again after delivery, but I originally heard that the brain rewires itself and eventually becomes more powerful. Well, I'm thinking that rewiring a brain is not a do-it-yourself job. I should have hired a qualified electrician, because my wiring doesn't seem to be up to code.

A few months back, I lost my bus pass. I tore apart my purse, then my car, to no avail. Finally, I broke down and paid the $2.75 fare so I could at least get to work, and figured I'd have to buy a new Metropass. The whole bus ride, I was silently grumbling at Sammy, the likely culprit. He likes to get into my purse to find my stash of bribes rewards suckers. Shortly after I got to work, I got a call from a stranger who found my bus pass lying on the ground at the Park & Ride and kindly retrieved it and tracked me down. I felt so guilty about blaming Sammy (even if it was just in my mind) that I apologized profusely to him later that afternoon, while he stared blankly at the crazy lady.

Then last weekend, I ran a bunch of errands with the kids. Monday morning, when I went to write out a check for daycare, I couldn't find the checkbook anywhere. Again, I tore apart my purse, the car, and the house. I traced back my steps, and the last time I remembered using the checkbook was on Saturday, at Target. By the time I figured this out, it was Tuesday afternoon and it had been four days since I'd last seen the checkbook, and my last hope was to check the lost and found at Target. If it wasn't there, I'd have to talk to the bank to cancel out the rest of the checks in that (practically new) book, with significant cost to me, since I believe it costs $25 per check for that service.

I walked into the office to look up Target's phone number, and saw that the message light on my answering machine was blinking. I couldn't believe my luck when I heard, "Hello, this is the Guest Service desk at Target, and I believe we have your checkbook..."

Now I've been lucky twice, and I don't know how much longer my luck can hold out. Next time, my bus pass/checkbook/keys/purse might fall into the hands of someone much less honest. I used to pride myself on being very organized and on top of things, and I hate this new absentmindedness. I can't even blame it on sleep deprivation, since both kids sleep through the night these days (except for this past week - let the record show that I hate teething and everything that goes along with it).

Please, can anyone tell me that this will get better eventually? Or am I doomed to live out the rest of my life as scatterbrained and forgetful?

Fundraisers

A few years ago, I was in college. Okay, maybe it was more like ten years ago. That's not the point. Anyway, I was having a quick lunch in-between classes at a fast-food restaurant near campus, when I was approached by a young child selling fundraiser candy bars. You know, the kind in the special wrapper that the kids sell for $1 to raise money for band or whatever. I pulled out my purse to buy a couple as he was explaining what they were for. When he came to the part about, "my mom has a new baby" and gestured toward his mother and siblings at a nearby table, I realized this wasn't a school fundraiser. It threw me for a loop, and although I did still buy a couple of candy bars, it seemed strange. I suppose it's not a lot different from panhandling, although in this case you actually get something for your money. But still, not something you see every day. (Although, just now I remembered going to Mexico and the children were selling packets of "chicle" on the street to raise money for their families. So I'll amend that to say, "not something you see every day in this country".)

Fast-forward to a couple of years ago, when Sammy started daycare. He goes to a local independent daycare center, whose owner I know quite well by now. She works at the center all day, substituting for teachers, helping out with snack time and recess time, and doing all the things that need to be done to run a business. I like her and the center quite a lot. But I was shocked the first time that Sammy came home with a fundraiser booklet. Not only that, but a suggestion from the owner/director that each family sell $200 worth of stuff. Uh, no - I am not going door to door, or putting up an order form at work, to raise funds for my children's daycare. Public schools need to do fundraisers, I understand that. They're vastly underfunded and teachers often have to purchase their own supplies. I get that, and I'm perfectly okay for buying things to support our public school system. But I already pay a lot - a LOT - of money for my private daycare, and I'm supposed to ask people to help defray my costs by buying some wrapping paper? Honestly, I'd rather just pay an extra $10 or $20 a week, if that's what it takes for the daycare to pay their bills.

From talking to other people, I've discovered this is a fairly common practice these days, but it feels horribly tacky to me. I'm not sure why, because Tupperware/Pampered Chef/etc. parties are basically fundraisers for personal profit, but that feels different to me, somehow.