Ginkgo Biloba, Take Me Away!

When I was pregnant with Lili, I developed a severe case of what my kids called "Baby Brain."  While we were out driving, I'd occasionally forget where I was and where I was going.  I can distinctly remember an occasion when we left my kids' primary school and were driving through the tiny Welsh village of Radyr.  I took a couple of mindless turns, then stopped the car, looked over at the five year old in the passenger seat and asked, "Where in the heck are we?!"  She stared back at me with her mouth gaping and replied with astonishment, "Don't you know?"

Honestly I did not know.  I also wasn't sure what day of the week it was or what the intended destination was when I began driving.  I'd regularly haul my happy, pregnant self upstairs, walk into my bedroom and realize I had completely forgotten why I had come up in the first place.  I'd wrack my brain furiously for about ten seconds, and then I'd decide that I might as well climb into bed and take a nap since I had come all that way anyway.

I also noticed that I was forgetting words when I was writing or speaking.  It was as if a blank Rolodex were spinning inside my brain.  Words that used to spring to my fingers or lips in an instant were lost.  In their place were cobwebs and Barry Manilow song lyrics.  Don't worry, I assured myself, it's just that doggone Baby Brain.  I felt confident that I would be clever again one day when I was no longer carrying an alien in my belly.

If you've met my almost two-year-old daughter Lili, you may have realized that she is rather clever herself.  Perhaps a little too clever.  Clever like a thieving fox!  I am convinced that that girl plundered portions of my brain.  She sucked my brains right through the umbilical cord, and most of that gray matter still hasn't grown back!

Will it ever grow back, friends?  That empty Rolodex continues to spin several times a day as I hunt for what ought to be a completely obvious word or name.  Last night, it didn't matter, but I beat my breast and moaned for a good five minutes because I couldn't remember the name of the actor who played "Snape" in the Harry Potter films.  I could picture him and could tell you the name of five other of his movies including the 1990 wonderfully, quirky British film Truly, Madly, Deeply, but I could not recall the name Alan Rickman to save my Granny's life!  Why?

Should I blame my age, my baby or the Internet?  With a seemingly infinite amount of information available to us instantly via Google and Wikipedia, our memories needn't be as sharp as they used to be.  I can still remember Susanna Hegner's parents' phone number, the one I dialed thirty seven times a day back in sixth grade, but I cannot tell you what my current cell phone number or my husband's work number is.  These digits are all programmed into some technological memory now, and my own memory is gradually turning to mush.

I need a plan, people.  I obviously cannot stop aging, and I am unwilling to give up my babies and the Internet.  Should I teach myself a new skill every year and quiz myself with the British Actor Flashcard game, (which I will be creating posthaste)?  (That's Colin Firth!  10 points to Gryffindor!)  Should I take some sort of herbal supplement?  Is there some sort of brain-re-grow potion I can brew in the basement?  Is there any hope for me?  Seriously.  Am I crazy?

"When I was younger, I could remember anything, whether it had happened or not." ~Mark Twain