Do you remember?

Where does our memory go after we give birth? Does it fly into the universe and go to some other more deserving soul? Does it get swept up on the delivery room floor and thrown away in those plastic bins marked 'bio hazard'? It's like as soon as you become pregnant, a small hole is created in your head where your memory slowly leaks out for the rest of your life, or in my case, gushes like a broken fire hydrant.

Usually Brian is the victim of my memory loss. We'll have a major life discussion where decisions are made about the raising of our kids or jobs or school. The next day, it's like it never happened. He'll just look at me in awe, "We JUST talked about this? I cannot believe you don't remember. What is wrong with you?"
-My girlfriend Kirsten, who is 9 months pregnant and gushing like a fire hydrant herself, said that she and her husband now write all decisions onto slips of paper then sign them. So simple yet effective. Props to her husband for signing the slips of paper, too, we know who this system was designed for.

Poor Charlie had his first 'What is wrong with you?' moment yesterday. Thursday afternoon I have a sitter come to take care of the baby so Charlie and I can have 'special adventure time' together. Yesterday's adventure consisted of the park and the car wash. 3 year olds may be high maintenance in a lot of areas, but they are pretty easy to entertain.

As we were driving around Charlie says from the backseat, "Do you remember when we went to the ladder and you carried me? Then at the top the bowl was empty." Uh, sure I remember.
Kids will throw a lot of nonsensical stuff your way in the course of the day. You have to pick and choose what you give credence to. I guess I chose wrong in this case.
"Can we do that again?"
Okay
"When? Now! Let's go now"
Honey, where was the ladder?
"The LADDER, the LADDER"
Where was it? Was it at the park on the slide?
"NOOOOO, the ladder with the bowl at the top."
He's really pretty worked up at this point and I really have no clue what he's talking about.
Where was it? At the house?
"NOOOO, the ladder WITH the bowl at the top. It was empty."
I cannot figure out what he's talking about and would love to continue this game of 20 questions, but he is full blown crying and yelling his responses at me, so I change tactics.
Hey, I have a great idea.
Building momentum and excitement in my voice to distract him.
"What?"
Sniffle sniffle sniffle
Do you want a treat?
Said with the fakest falsetto voice.
"Yes, I would like that."
Tears are subsiding and he's able to answer in a calm voice after a few deep breaths.
Let's get some yogurt.
"Okay, that sounds delicious, Mommy. Thanks."

Another good/bad thing about 3 year olds, they are very easily distracted.
This will definitely not be the last time poor Charlie has to endure his mother's lack of memory, but hopefully frozen yogurt will suffice as a solution. I only wish it worked with my husband.