Personal Injury Brain Flop

A little while back over at Dr. Frankenbaby, there was some talk of something called "brain flop." All you parents out there know exactly what this means. I sometimes less generously refer to it as "being stupid." Or, "my toddler is so picky, the only food she ever wants to eat is my BRAINSSSS." 

Recently I've been experiencing brain flop more in the physical realm. In my previous life, I was a dancer -- never possessed of anything resembling an unearthly grace, but always able to make it though an open doorway unscathed. I had no idea that was a gift, an era, something I would look back on wistfully. Oh, the halcyon days of my un-clumsy youth. 

These days I feel like I have to give walking my full attention in order to stay safe. Of course, I don't. I just bump into walls and door frames...all the time. And if I am holding Margot, I bump her into walls and door frames -- and shelf corners and cabinet doors and plenty of other pointy things. It isn't pretty for either of us. 

But the worst -- what I am hoping will be the game changer that gets me walking straight again -- was the other day when I leaned over to pick up a laundry basket, and with zero hesitation, slammed by forehead into the hardwood edge of the wainscotting in our hallway. Adam was out of the house and for a second I really thought I might pass out. I heard birds tweeting in my ears, saw stars in my eyes, and felt panic deep down in my gut thinking about the damage that being alone with her unconscious mama for untold hours would do to Margot's psyche. 

We survived...this time. But if anyone has any tips on how to be less of an idiot, I'm all ears. And thumbs. And two left feet.