How parenting makes you stupid

I’m almost positive that I was smart before I became a mom. I really was. In college, for instance, I successfully carried a triple major—journalism, sociology, and keg stands—and still managed to graduate with honors. I once was able to watch Jeopardy and yell out correct answers faster than the best of the contestants, and I phrased them in questions, too.

Not any more. Now, I’m a mom. Now, I’m stupid. Now, I’m quite convinced that parenting eats up brain cells faster than any recreational drug. My brain cells started to disappear during early pregnancy. That’s when I started to lose my car keys on a regular basis. After my daughter was born, I’m pretty sure sleep deprivation wiped out at least a quarter of my entire supply. Worrying wiped out most of the rest. And, although I can’t prove it, I think a mother’s brain cells are somehow transferred out of her brain and into her child’s during breast-feeding.

I think this because my daughter, who is only 4, is already smarter than me. She has to have some of the neurons that used to be rightfully mine! She has to. Not only does she always know where my keys are (not to mention every other thing I can’t find), she could also easily beat me at Jeopardy. Recently, she asked me:

1.    Did you know Roosevelt was our 32nd President? Um, no, I did not, but I did at least know that he was a President.

2.    Did you know that the Spanish word for glue is goma? Let’s see. I took two years of Spanish in High School, but I did not know that. I do know what Puta means in English, but I’m not going to share that information with you, so there!

3.    Did you know the Pacific Ocean is the largest ocean ever? No, I didn’t know that. It’s really bigger than the Atlantic? Oh, yes, you’re right. Google says it is.

Even when she doesn’t know the answers herself, she still continually quizzes me, to make extra sure that I don’t start to think of myself as a Know It All, as if I had time to even consider thinking that when I spend so much of my waking hours in search of my car keys. For instance, she’s asked:

1.    How do you catch a rainbow? Run really fast?

2.     Where do balloons go when you let go? To balloon heaven?

3.    What is underneath the road? Dirt? Pipes? Worms? The Underminer?

4.    What happened to the dinosaurs? They ate each other? They got hit by a comet? Their carbon footprints were too big?

5.    Why do flowers die? So they can bloom again?

6.    Why can’t I have a pet newt? Because I said so? Because I don’t know what a newt is but it sounds really gross?

7.    Why do wasps sting? Because they can?

8.    Why does Rhoads (our dog) poop so much? Because everyone poops sometimes? Because there’s too much fiber in his dog food? Because he keeps eating our toilet paper?

9.    Why are you so grumpy? Because I’m a mother?

10.    Why do you ask Google so many questions? Because Google didn’t have a baby so it’s smarter than me?

Well, you know what? I have a few questions, too. Do brain cells regenerate or do they continually die off? If they continually die off, will I be a 100 percent Know Not All by the time I’m 50? Do you get even stupider with each additional child? Should I do something to protect the few neurons that I have left? Are other parents just as stupid as I am? Can you help me find my car keys?

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