The 3 Stooges (minus 2)

I think the clumsy stage of pregnancy has started to set in for me. I have hit my head twice this weekend. TWICE. Once, on Saturday when I stood up on a chair in the closet doorway, as I attempted to retrieve an item from the top shelf. Yes, I knew that door frame was there. I stood right into it anyway. I knocked myself dizzy with that one. Then, a second time on Sunday, when I was leaning down to set some stuff in the corner of the kitchen, I whacked my head on the cabinet. Each time I had to fight back tears.

Here is where I combine two of my hated "side effects" of pregnancy: acne and the new one, clumsiness. When I hit my head on the cabinet, I frickin' hit directly on a monster zit that has been living on my forehead for the last week. AND NOW IT IS BRUISED. Yup. I bruised a zit. Didn't know it was possible, but apparently it is. I guess this pimple was not painful enough, I had to go whack it on some kitchen hardware.

I can also tell my memory is getting worse. Another thing I didn't think was possible. I have a horrible memory. I call Travis my living Rolodex of memories. If I can't remember the name of a place we went, I just ask Travis, "Remember when we went to that place? On that special day commemorating when we started dating? Two years ago?" He always knows what I'm talking about, thank goodness. I would be lost without him.

I've determined that my crappy memory is a combination of things. Hypoglycemia is a major one. Who can think when they are hungry? Another adding factor I found out about recently. When my brother started going to daycare, they required a lead test. His results came back HIGH. Not life threateningly high, but well above the normal range.

See, we grew up in a house that was over a century old. Meaning, there are decades of lead filled paint covering those walls. When my parents bought the house, it was on the verge of being torn down. My dad, being the conservationist architect that he is, could not bear to see the place demolished. Instead, my parents purchased the house and began refurbishing. A couple years after they began this process (you know, after they had running water and functioning electricity) they got pregnant with me. They spent the rest of our time in that house fixing it up. We lived there until I was 18 years old.

The last decade we lived there, the construction was not as vigorous as it was in my first few years in that house. If my brother had high levels of lead in his blood ten years after I was born, think about the levels I must have been exposed to. In prime growing season. Yet another reason why my memory is retarded.

Now we add pregnancy on top of all this, it's no wonder I'm a clumsy, forgetful fool. I shouldn't be surprised to find out my brain is shrinking.