Life... Health... Reviews...

Saturday, May 19, 2007

The pregnant brain & the teenage brain

I have a 15-year-old daughter and I’m eight months pregnant. My daughter, one of the sweetest people I know, is normally very level-headed, mature and responsible, but every once in awhile she has moments that make me wonder about her ability to survive in the real world. Well, it dawned on me, just a few minutes ago that being pregnant I have those types of moments also. So, when the two of us get together and have brain-less moments it causes much confusion, laughter and teasing.

Fortunately for us we’re the only ones who witness these moments. Today we’ve had two such moments. The first occurred while we were at the video rental store. We both didn’t realize we walked into the wrong end of the line. Both of us distracted by the ice cream freezer – my pregnant belly focused on having ice cream and her teenage hormones focused on the same; we didn’t realize we were walking the wrong way. We chose our ice cream -- pleased and excited -- then proceeded to get in line… still walking in the wrong direction. It wasn’t until we got to what we thought was the end of the line that we realized we had made our way to the actual end of the line and had started off at the beginning of the line.

We both looked confused, turned around and my daughter tried to blame it on me by saying, “I was just following you!” Yeah, right!


We finally make it home. I’m not going to talk about the pregnant moment I had when I accidentally locked her out of the house because I had to rush in to use the bathroom. Then when I get out of the bathroom I’m surprised the door is closed and locked not realizing she’s on the other side of the door knocking – all the while eating her ice cream, of course.

She decides she needs to get her homework done and one of the things she has to do is interview someone, which she’s going to do over the phone. Luckily, as a freelance writer and editor I have a phone recorder that hooks up to the phone so it makes interviewing someone and reviewing the conversation later a little easier than trying to take notes.

After explaining to her how to use the contraption I tell her she should test it each time to make sure it’s working correctly. Well, she tries to test it and when she listens to her test the recorder is making an awful noise. So, I step in to see what is happening. I get my cell phone to call home and the recorder doesn’t work. I fumble with the cords, checking to see if everything is hooked up correctly and can’t seem to figure out why the thing won’t work.

“I know my recorder didn’t just die,” I exclaim.

Not too long before that I had told my daughter that the recorder would be activated when the phone is turned on so as long as it was set in record mode it would start recording when the phone was picked up.

Using my cell phone, we called the house several times. Finally she says, “Don’t you have to pick up the phone?”

“No, the voicemail picked up… oh….”

Another pregnant moment… and I wonder about her ability to survive in the real world. Hmm, maybe I need to wonder about me!

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