tuesday's true confession: an elephant never forgets

But I'm not an elephant, and I forget ALL THE TIME.  (Why do elephants seem to show up in my confession posts so often?)  Today, I'm turing 33, and I almost wish that I could blame my poor memory on age, but I actually blame it on my first pregnancy.  Pregnant moms often joke about pregnancy brain - which describes the memory loss that seems to come with pregnancy.  However, I think I've pretty much had pregnancy brain for the past six years.  My husband often jokinly asks me if I even remember his name.  He's so silly.  Of course, I remember that his name is Joe . . . wait, no Mark . . . no, that's not it . . . Mike . . . yep, that's it . . . my husband's name is Mike.  I think. 

But in the face of such staggeringly poor memory over daily stuff, I have an amazingly uncanny memory for one particular thing.  (Well, two actually.  I can remember every single detail of my children's lives - birth, first bath, how they nursed, what they smelled like as babies, etc.  But that's not embarassing.  That's just being a mom, so I'm not confessing that today.) 

Today I'm confessing that I can pretty much remember almost all the lyrics from almost any popular song from the eighties or nineties.  Now, this may seem like a trivial confession, but trust me having the words to Manic Monday, Ice Ice Baby, Every Rose Has A Thorn, Love Shack, etc. run through your head non-stop can be pretty irritating - and not just to me, to my entire family.  It's not unusual for me to break out with Karma Chameleon or I Think We're Alone Now at dinner. Or if my husband, Jack . . . no, Mike and I are having a conversation and something he says triggers a memory of a lyric, I burst out in a related 80's song.

Crafting has only increased my personal 80's concerts because while I'm sewing or gluing or cutting, I have lots of time for my mind to wander to songs.  Not more than ten or fifteen minutes into a new project I'm unwittingly memory deep in Papa Don't Preach or Hold On.  The harder I try not to, the more these lyrics just pop into my head.  I even wake up in the middle of the night with these songs running through my head.  Trust me waking up at 2 AM to "Everybody's doin' a brand new dance now (C'mon baby due the loco-motion) I know you'll get to like it if you give it a chance now . . ." is not pleasant!

So today - on my birthday, in hopes that I am not the only one, I'm confessing that even though I can barely remember my husband's name, I can sing Welcome to the Jungle from beginning to end without flinching.


Last week, a few of you wrote up confessional posts or posted confessions in the comments section.  Rachel confessed her love of the show Lois and Clark.  Polly let us in on her ugly-feet secret.  Larri fessed up about hiding candy from her kids.  Debra confessed her dependance on God.

I kind of liked not feeling so alone and having others confess with me.  So . . . I'm going to try it again this week.  

Over the course of the next week I encourage you to think about what you might like to confess.  If you've been reading my confessions over the course of the last few months you know that some are serious, some are sappy and some are silly.  Confess whatever you want . . . just try not to make it too sultry . . . if you know what I mean.  ;) 

Write up a post and link it below so that we can all join in.  If you don't have your own blog or don't want to take the time to write up a post, just comment below with your true confession.  Maybe you don't want to, that's fine.  If no one links, that's okay too.  We are all busy, and we certainly don't need another thing on the to-do list. 

If you do participate in Tuesday's True Confession, don't feel obligated to link back or post the button.  You can if you want to, but I don't demand it.  ;)






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