Confusion Limitation

I have reached the age where each day is merely a different level of confusion, punctuated with brief moments of clarity. I find myself worrying unnecessarily about my parents, my children and now my granddaughter. Where did the new found level of forgetfullness come from? Lists! For goodness sake I have never written lists, now I write lots of them, only I can't remember where I put them.

There are too many occasions when I ask one of my eldest offspring, "where are you going, when will you back?" only to be told, "Mother, we discussed this the other evening, I gave you the details then". The look that accompanies the words is more disconcerting than the fact I don't recall the discussion! My son has perfected delivering the aforementioned line with a heavy sense of resignation that his mother has started to lose the plot. I can sense the painful, protracted sigh, bursting to break free from him. I feel the knowing looks pass between the eldest children and my husband.

I find myself researching the symptoms of the menopause, grasping at the hope that there is a logical explanation for the fact that I cannot remember where my husband left his keys, where the oil for the chain saw is, where my daughters brown shoes (which originally were mine until she 'borrowed' them) have vanished to. My youngest is used to me and fortunately has accepted since she could walk and talk that I have a tendency to forget where I left her or forget to collect her from school.

Trust me, I don't relish the menopause, in my head I am capable of having at least 6 more children and I am far too young to reach the end of my reproductive life, even though I have no intention of producing anymore offsrping! In my head I am capable of running my house and my businesses in a perfect, structured, well organised way. In reality I am having more days when I stand staring into space, trying to recall why I went upstairs in first place. I now laugh when I set off for the supermarket and find that I am actually going completely the opposite direction. I don't mind being told that the reason the printer doesn't work on the computer is nothing to do with a software/network problem, it is merely due to the fact I haven't switched it on. I try not to get frustrated that after half an hour trying to charge a phone I discover that not only am I plugging the wrong charger in, it is actually plugged into the wrong connection on the phone.

The reason I am not perturbed is simply that I now make time to stand and gaze at my garden, the countryside that surrounds my home, my children and tiny little fingers and toes of my recent granddaughter. I read anything and everything because I indulge myself and make time to do so. I have taken up lots of the creative pursuits I indulged in before the children came along and despite the apparent loss of some of my marbles I like my confusion because it makes me laugh at myself. After all, laughter is the best medicine.