The perimenopausal brain: the 3 am chronicles

It’s 3 a.m., and once again, I find myself wandering the house, desperately searching for coffee like it’s a long-lost lover. The world is silent, well, except for the laundry. You know, the same laundry I finished yesterday but which, miraculously, has multiplied overnight. I think my washing machine might be secretly conspiring against me. Together with my children who tend to find clothing overnight.

Meanwhile, the kids have this uncanny ability to sense I’m awake. They pop up like little CEOs, ready to assign me tasks for the day: Mom, can you remember to sign this? Oh, and don’t forget about that thing tomorrow.. Spoiler alert: I will absolutely forget about that thing tomorrow.

Writing this blog is, ironically, a battle against the very thing I want to write about: brain fog. Some days, it’s like trying to think through oatmeal. You know those moments when your kid tells you something important, and you nod along, only to completely blank on it later? That’s me. Every day.

Example:
Child: Mom, can you drop me at the party at 4?
Me at 4: Why are you still in the house, and why is your backpack so sparkly?
Look, I’m not proud, but I do think I deserve points for creativity when I wing it.

Making dinner feels like the final boss battle of my day. By the time I’m done cooking, serving, cleaning, and refereeing arguments about who got the “better” plate, I’m so wiped I could sleep standing up. But no, because 3 a.m. is waiting for me, bright-eyed, foggy-brained, and ready for another round of existential contemplation over coffee.

What do I do with all that extra time when sleep decides to ghost me? I make mugs. So many mugs. Some are functional, others are… “abstract.” But hey, when life gives you sleepless nights, you make art. Or mugs. Or mug-shaped art. So i can drink coffee in a different mug every day

Here’s the thing: forgetting has become my superpower. I can forget things so efficiently it’s like I’m decluttering my brain in real-time. Forgetting what my kid asked me to do? Check. Forgetting why I walked into the kitchen? Double check. Forgetting I already reheated my coffee three times? That’s just a Tuesday.

But in the midst of the fog, the sleepless nights, and the laundry that regenerates like a bad video game villain, I’ve learned one thing: laugh about it. Seriously. You can either cry about your 3 a.m. wakeups or embrace the chaos and make another mug.

A word to my fellow foggy friends

If you’re also navigating the wild ride of perimenopause, let me tell you this: you’re not alone. Whether you’re staring into the fridge wondering what you’re supposed to do with chicken thighs or forgetting your child’s name mid-yell (sorry, you with the face), it’s all part of the journey.

So tonight, when you’re up at 3 a.m., brew that coffee, embrace the fog, and maybe start your own mug empire. Who knows? Brain fog might just make you an accidental creative genius. Or at the very least, someone with a really impressive mug collection.

All the images are prompted in Midjourney with my own prompt.