A Curios intersection of the Pixies and Parenthood:

Where is my mind?

A reoccurring contemplation these last several weeks, and one universally shared often by by all parents, is "What did I use to spend my time [doing/thinking about/worrying] before my kid? This comes about lately as we proceed full-bore into the rigros of potty training. We've kind of been edging into it, dipping our toes into the pool for the last couple of months. No more excuses now though. We've jumped in; We're past the point of turning back.

This nifty potty sings when wet

For example, yesterday I was trying to explain to one of my employees the intricacies of a good positive reward program, such as the importance of "princess wipes" versus regular ones, and the different grades of stickers (overall size is very important, Mermaid stickers are best, but if all we have geometric than we have to usually double up.) The young twenty-something coed e listened patiently, and unsucessfully tried to hide the increasing level of bizarre fascination/dread that she was experiencing listening to a grown man talk about "Announcing your Poops," and celebrating that most mundane of human functions, wiping one's own butt.


Which leads me back to the original question. All these details have long since pervaded my subconscious; I often only realize upon arrival at work that I have been humming a Laurie Berkner song for the last seven miles. So what did I used to do with my brain? What great ideas, contemplations, obsessions have been lost in the shuffle? I really can't seem to remember. Was I close to reconciling free will with a deterministic universe? Did I have the rosters and stats of the entire Western conference of the NBA memorized and analyzed? Have I become dumber, mundane and generally less interesting? I really can't seem to recall . . . .


Got to go . . . the frog potty needs changing for a fresh attempt!