A Theory

I've found myself struggling more and more over the past two or three years with a brain disease. Don't know what it's called, haven't seen a doctor. I just know it's there. I call it "brain rot," and it's aggravated by lack of sleep, too many tests piled up for grading, too many questions directed at me in a short span of time, hormonal fluctuations, and... well, age.

I've wondered over time, though, where it started. What caused this decline in mental functioning? Why is it that I can only remember my husband's SSN but not my own? Why can I only remember last names but not first ones? Why do I remember my 9th grade best friend's birthday but have to stop and think about all of my children's? How do I remember my 14-digit library code but wonder if I'm giving my telephone number correctly to the doctor's office? Why can I no longer speak intelligently, with long words that are hard to spell, and am reduced to struggling to come up with two-syllable words?

Today, my answer came. It's called "The Homeschooling Brain Drain." Here's what clued me in.

My first grader was sitting at the breakfast table (or was it lunch? can't remember... SEE???). Anyway, I don't even remember what we were talking about, but he used the word "reciprocate" as he talked to me. Used it correctly. I'd forgotten about that word. Where'd he get that? (Not from me, the "brain-rot" mom.)

Then he came in after lunch, talking to me about this flower he'd picked. Told me he'd taken it over to some other flowers "where the bees were doing their pollinating." "Pollinating"? We don't do science. 1st-grade science is, for me, reminding my young ones that Mr. Rogers always shows us how things are made. GREAT show to watch!!!

The light bulb went off. I see it so plainly now: as we teach our kids, the ability to think clearly and use intelligent words correctly is transferred from our brains to theirs. They learn from us, but we don't get to keep that part of our brain. It just gets sucked right out. Gone forever.

I can't tell you how relieved I am to know that I can't help the feebleness of my thinking. And I'm not blaming my kids at all. This is just one of the costs of homeschooling. (There's a T-shirt slogan in here somewhere... if only I could think of one...)

I can rest now.