Life Without My Brain

Wow.  I haven’t written anything in awhile.  Maybe you thought I was just busy.  I mean, sure, I have been busy.  But it’s a little more complicated than that.  You see, my Brain went missing.

Well, you’re probably thinking, “Jennifer, I knew you were disorganized but how does a person fail to keep an eye on their brain???  Seriously, isn’t your brain ATTACHED to your eyes?!?”

I know, I KNOW!  It’s downright embarrassing.  Look, it wasn’t so much me losing my Brain.  My Brain just decided it had enough, packed up all its things, and left me with only the basic functioning of my autonomic nervous system.  No Goodbye, only some mumblings about not being appreciated and “You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.”  Really, Brain?  After all we’ve been through???

So at first I was like “Whatever!  I’ll be just fine without you!!!”  I mean, the world is full of people walking around with no sign of their Brains.  Surely I could get by without mine just as well.  But it didn’t take long for me to feel like something was missing…

When it was time to write this is what I got:


Oh dear, that’s not good.  Hmm, maybe more caffeine cannot adequately substitute for sleep???

(ha ha)  I do enjoy some coffee humor.  But NO, the coffee was not helping.  I resolved that I needed to get more rest.


So I tried sleeping in a little more.  Not staying up QUITE so late.

It didn’t work.  In fact, it got a bit worse.  Without the cooperation of my Brain, everything started to seem like a great effort.  I was managing the bare minimum of things, but anything extra became overwhelming.  Leave the house?  Talk to people?  I CANNOT DO THESE THINGS ALONE, BRAIN!  COME BACK ALREADY!!!

Perhaps I owe my Brain an apology.  Brain, I admit, I wasn’t treating you right.  Sometimes I’m a little disparaging of you, and you don’t deserve it.  I shouldn’t harp on the “organization” thing, it’s not your fault.  And I’m sorry for being frustrated with you for not remembering how to do algebra.  You used to be pretty good at it, but it would be hard for anyone’s brain to remember skills that were not of any use to them since the 90’s.

Actually, Brain, you’ve been working pretty hard and I haven’t been very appreciative.  All of the studying, research, and decision making you’ve done, and still, I’m always second guessing you.  “But BRAIN, are you SURE???  Are you POSITIVE we are doing this right???”  And yes, Brain, though you reassure me that we have all the bases covered and we are indeed doing things right, I say “But what about all the people who don’t agree with us?  Let’s worry about what they think!!!”

And you know, worrying about What Other People Think is one sure way to drive a Brain nutty-nuts.  Another one is to worry about Things Over Which You Have No Control.  Oh yeah, What Other People Think is one of those Things Over Which You Have No Control.  Good point, Brain, thanks.

Anyways, I was starting to think my Brain was not coming back.  Why, just reading this, you’re likely wondering if my brain has left the planet and whom you should contact to arrange medical interventions for me.  Although I am crazy enough to write a blog post about my Brain being its own separate entity, there is SOME good news.

Just when I was getting really worried, I found a way to get my Brain to come back to me.  Quite by accident, I stumbled upon a post from Wholesome Mommy about using Young Living Essential Oils to help her toddler sleep.  Well, you already know about our toddler sleep issues.  And you know I am in the market for more sleep. So I was all about trying that!  Having already used Young Living’s Thieves Oil for colds and flu, I was quick to sign up to get the discount and order the starter kit.  The kit came with a bottle of an oil blend called Stress Away.  Well, I didn’t think I was stressed, but I thought it couldn’t hurt and went to put the roller cap on the bottle, spilling it all over my hand in the process.  Ugh, I couldn’t stand the smell!  It wasn’t a bad smell, just a strong plant smell.  I tried to get it off, but I had so much on me that it was going to take awhile to wear off.  In the meantime, a funny thing happened.  My Brain started to perk up!  I decided to take it with me the next time I had to leave the house.

I’m not particularly good at dealing with crowds anyways, but after my Brain left me I was feeling downright panicky about social situations.  It’s hard to be friendly when your Brain refuses to come along for the ride, you know?  Still, I was reluctant to slather myself in the odoriferous Stress Away, so I decided just to inhale it for a minute or so.  Well, it didn’t turn me into Jay Leno (that would be interesting), but I felt like I could function and maybe even carry on a conversation *gasp*!

I’ve been playing around with the different oils in my kit for a week or so now and I’m feeling a lot more like myself.  It’s kind of complex for someone whose Brain is still on the fence about cooperating to explain, but according to my Essential Oils pocket reference  “the sense of smell is the only one of the five senses linked directly to the limbic lobe of the brain, the emotional control center”.   Aha!  Interestingly, I also learned that when you don’t care for the smell of a certain oil, often your body really needs that oil.  Wild, huh?

So yes, me and my Brain are talking again.  We have some issues to work out, but we’re on the right track.  And I’m excited about all the cool things these oils can do and having them in my stockpile of Natural Remedies.  You know I love me some holistic wellness, this is SO up my alley!  I could just squeal thinking about all the exciting plant compounds.  <3 <3 <3  You know I’m BACK when I’m waxing poetic about plant compounds.

Finn with YL Stress Away Oil

Anyways, HOPEFULLY I’ll be able to write more, think more, and ______blip______CLUNK a lot less.  I hope all of you are doing well and not Blipping or Clunking or losing your mental faculties in any fashion, cause it’s no fun I tell you.  Drop me a comment and let me know how it’s going!




Dear Dash,

Dear Dash,

Listen, Buddy, we need to talk.  The other day you figured out that if you pushed a chair up to the kitchen counter you could access a whole new world of exciting things.  This morning you got up, pushed the chair to the sink and spent an entire 2 hours there, playing with dishes and soap bubbles.

keeping toddlers safe

Look, Dash, I’m glad you’re having fun.  But Mommy really needs you to grow up.

I’m sorry, I’m saying this all wrong.  Let’s back up a little.  Do you remember when you were 14 months old?   That was when you learned to open the “toddler proof” cabinet locks.  At first I thought they were left open?  Defective?  Nope.  You could actually open them.  So I found high up shelves to put cleaning products on.  What I couldn’t fit I moved to the garage.  I put all the sharp things and breakable things up in high cabinets.  Well, most of the breakable things.  The ones that stayed put are now broken.  No big deal, Dash, I can do without the ceramic bowls.

The same week, you started climbing up on the kitchen table.  There was only one thing on the table, a glass pitcher.  It was shattered on the floor within hours.  That’s okay, Dash, I should have thought to move it.


Remember this little guy?

Around the same time, you learned to dismantle the play pen, which was supposed to keep you safe while I cooked dinner.  So much for that.  Down to the basement it went.

Pretty soon you were climbing the barstools onto the counter.  I already knew those stools were trouble.  Finn has a scar on his nose from knocking one of them over on himself when he was tiny.  We could do without the extra seating.  Barstools went down to the basement.

One day you pulled a little table over onto yourself.  You were so short, it actually fell right over top of you, landing with you standing between the legs.  Thankfully you weren’t hurt.  I immediately put that table in the basement and I had Daddy double check that all the other pieces of furniture in the house were tethered to the walls.

So now we’ve gotten you to almost 21 months old.  You can open and unscrew bottles as fast as an adult. You’re obsessed with electrical outlets.  You love to turn on the water faucets.  I’m trying to teach you which is “HOT” and never to touch it, but I always have my eyes on you in the bathroom.  You always have to lean over things and reach so far that you go toppling in head first.  You’re always knocking your head into tables and I’m always trying to put my hands out to cushion your little noggin when I see you’re too close to going BUMP.  You put everything in your mouth and jump at a chance to get your brothers’ little Legos.  I’m always scanning the house to make sure they didn’t leave anything choke-able within your grasp.  You climb everything that will stay upright and plenty of things that won’t.  You scamper up the boys’ bunk bed ladder and start jumping and squealing and hitting your head on the ceiling, all while trying to scoot just out of my grasp.  I try and let you climb and jump as much as possible while always keeping my arms out to catch you if you get to close to the edge.

But now, NOW you are climbing the chairs up to the counter.  The kitchen counter with all the hot things and sharp things.  The stove, toaster, coffee maker, water, knives, glass, pottery, garbage disposal…  AAAGHHHH!!!!

I’d really like to put all the chairs in the basement until you are three.  I could live without them, but I don’t know how your Dad and brothers would feel about eating standing up.  So for now, I’m keeping the knives out of the sink and I’ve barricaded the knife block so you can’t get to it.  And I’ve dragged you away from the hot toaster and stove (kicking and screaming, I might add) multiple times already.  And I’ll never let you be in the kitchen by yourself.

But SERIOUSLY DASH.  You’re wearing me out.  I need you to grow up.

It’s not that I want to rush you through your toddlerhood.  I love your snuggly toddler-ness.  I love your little stinky toes.  I love your curly baby hair.  I love the way you ask for a smoothie and call it a “mini”.  I know soon you’re going to be all grown up and I don’t really want you to be all grown up just yet.  But I get so scared sometimes that I can’t keep you safe.  So I stand in the kitchen for two hours helping you play at the sink, making sure you don’t get hurt and hoping you get sick of it soon.  And then I start crying because your new carseat won’t fit rear facing in the van and I really want you to be rear facing because it’s safest and I just don’t know what to do to make sure this incredible little person in my care grows up and never, ever gets hurt.

You’re just so tiny.  And so crazy.  And I’m so tired.  Know what I mean?

So Dash, I’m sorry.  You don’t have to grow up just yet.  But I’ll be glad when you’re a bit bigger and you have a little more sense to stay out of trouble.  Until then, and after then too, I’m here for you Buddy.


Love, Love, Love Always,