I had a really fun epiphany the other day.
My brain is deteriorating rapidly, while my husband's is enlarging in capacity.
My mind has continued to become less reliable, less sharp, less retentive, and more mushy since having my first baby. Currently, I can rely on my brain only for very little and very select information. And even for this tiny amount of information, sometimes the craziness just takes over, and I feel that my brain cells are completely, totally worthless.
Meanwhile, as my husband acquires more time working as a physician and gaining more responsibility, his mind seems to be gaining in momentum at solving problems, preventing and recognizing errors, and adapting accordingly to improve circumstances for future success.
The combined effect of these two attributes does not work so well at home, where I am almost completely frenzied and be-hind 99% of the time. There are so many things to remember and keep track of, so many catastrophes (spilled spaghetti), arguments to mediate, and constant needy pleas to answer. So, rather than being sharpened and enlarging in ability to categorize, rearrange, and solve problems, my brain seems to just take a vacation at the climax of the chaos.
From how my husband describes his current internal medicine rotation, the atmosphere in the hospital during his night calls seems, in a small way, similar to that in our home. He is constantly bombarded with requests and faced with solving multiple decisions and challenges. The doctor, however, easily catches the flaws and inefficient workings in the hospital and finds ways to improve them. And then somehow, later in the day, he is able to do this at home also. He is also always full of suggestions of how to improve efficiency and prevent unnecessary disasters in the home.
I am not put out by this though.
The other day, I decided to sit down and paint with my kids. They were busy with their own paintings. After I sketched some flowers, I started adding some water colors. My daughter asked if she could help me paint my flowers. "Suuuure," I said. (I used to water color in college, so I take my water coloring a bit seriously, even if it is with Crayola water colors.) She immediately started putting green polk-a-dots and then black ones on top of my yellow and purple crocuses. I was secretly a bit disappointed, but it was fun painting side by side with her, so we continued. I showed her how to wash the colors and give the picture a somewhat ethereal effect. The painting actually turned out beautiful, though much different than I had originally intended. I'll keep it forever.
So, my husband may be getting wiser, but the joy of being with my kids and experiencing life's small moments with them overcomes any frustration that I may have with my totally worthless brain cells.