My Autopilot is on Autopilot

One of the hazards of parenting is that you can automatically count on having seven times more to do than you used to. My personal coping mechanism has hinges on putting most of life's mundane tasks on autopilot. There's really no other way to describe it. I can do loads and loads of laundry, and then not remember doing it (I swear, there's absolutely no gin involved.) My brain just takes a holiday, or possibly works on the grocery list, or wraps presents in the background.

But once in a while it gets all confused. I don't know why this happens, but I suspect it has something to do with people talking to me before I've had coffee. All of a sudden, I find myself pouring orange juice in the cereal bowl, and then trying to shove the carton back in the microwave. I think it's safe to say that my husband LIVES for these moments.

He particularly enjoys watching me fumble with doors. I think doors ought to work like they do in Star Trek. Why should we have to think about which way they open, or whether they slide, or have a knob, or lever, or what have you? It's the 21^st century, for goodness sake! I say this, of course, because I'm a door moron. Some people lose their keys, some people are consistently late. *I can't get out of my living room to save my life. IN! The door goes IN! It shouldn't be that hard to remember!

The reason I feel compelled to blame it on my autopilot is that, particularly when having trouble with doors, I don't seem to be able to analyze the situation, and correct the action. If push doesn't work, it seems like a reasonable strategy to try "Pull" next. But, no. I just keep on pushing, like a damn fool. It's the autopilot, I tell you!

My autopilot forces me to call my children with multiple (hyphenated) names, beginning with the firstborn's. "Max-Abby-Whatever-your-name-is - GET DOWN FROM THERE!" My autopilot also steers me into rooms, without giving me the faintest clue about what I'm supposed to do once I GET there. Why the heck am I in the garage? Trash? No. Bicycle helmet? Not likely. Transmission check? What's a transmission, anyway? Is there a reason at all, or did the autopilot flake out again?

Ever buy 82 things at the grocery store, but forget the 2 things you went for? No, I'm sure this has never happened to you.

Ever sign your maiden name 10 years after you stopped using it? Draw a complete blank when somebody asks for your phone number? Throw the phone in the trash? Ever find yourself staring into the refrigerator, with no idea how long you've been standing there, except there's condensation on your shoes?

Sane people do not do these things. But parents do, ALL THE TIME. Particularly parents of infants and toddlers. It tapers off a bit, of course, since once the kids get old enough, they're only too happy to remind you how idiotic you're acting. This, I must reluctantly admit, tends to be very helpful.

You can draw whatever conclusion you'd like in this old chicken/egg debate. Since I personally prefer believe that the propagation of the species is a noble pursuit, and source of concern to ALL human beings (not just the door-challenged sort,) my conclusion is that it's PARENTING that causes the overload and ensuing short circuits.

There's just too much to do. I guess in the olden days, couples could assign one whole brain to child rearing, with another whole brain to spare for stuff like earning a living, fixing the car, world peace, and such. Sometimes, with extended families living closer together, occasionally under the same roof, there were plenty of brains among which to divide the labor. They ironed sheets!  Clearly, they didn't have enough to do.

Nowadays, not only do both my husband and I have to think about the kids, AND about work, but for some strange reason, the assigned thought schedule gets reversed. So we end up thinking about kids at work, and about work, when we're home. PLUS there's all that other stuff like fixing the car and world peace - neither of which we've got much of a handle on in my house, I'm sorry to report. Considering we use only 10% of our brains to begin with, then according to my calculations, each of us has exactly 17 brain cells left to handle chores and daily tasks. That's enough to get me through breakfast, but then what about the rest of the day?
Autopilot.

Only if you've got a decent one, then it knows enough to want vacation time, coffee breaks, and paid holidays. Or possibly an assistant autopilot. And then you're in the same boat as me. Pretty much sunk.

So, what am I doing at the bottom of the lake here? Is there a reason? Or did my autopilot flake out?