Butterfly Brain

My toddler’s repertoire of vocabulary acquisition is slowly growing – he can now point to his head, eye, ear, mouth, and nose when prompted with the words. It is exciting! The little things can be so exciting with preschoolers. In the car today, on the way to MOPS, I was thinking about how simple his understanding of the word 'head' is though. To him, a pat on the head is just that – a pat on his noggin. To me, the word encompasses so much more.  

Over the past several weeks I have been stuck in my own head.

I have been struggling to understand the thoughts flying around in it; many of those thoughts have been negative, emotionally laden ideas. A simple exchange during a conversation is all of a sudden tinged with feelings of regret, bitterness, and sometimes fear. The moments of joy that come when I hear Little Man growl like a lion, moo like a cow, or point to his head are often overpowered by the overwhelming feelings that have become a part of my own thinking.  

Everyone has stress – every day it pops up. The stress of a pregnancy and a toddler, a teenager, and an absent partner must just be a bit too much for me right now. A friend of mine recently made me feel that I should be a bit less hard on myself when she told me she sees herself reacting to things and knows they are illogical responses, but cannot stop herself. She too is pregnant. Is it the pregnancy's hormones and the growing baby boy inside of me that are turning me into a woman stuck in her own head? 

Our pastor recently preached on the concept of a Battle for Your Mind, and it really made sense to me. He laid out four points, but the third and fourth points were the most relevant for me over the past couple of weeks. We must make a choice towards changed thinking, and we must make the choice to trust God...no matter what. These were the most relevant points for me over the past couple of weeks because of stressful situations that have reared their ugly heads in less than opportune moments.  

Imagine being called out of a doctor's appointment to hear that your one-and-a-half-year-old had been taken to the hospital...while your teenage son was watching him. Imagine that twenty-minute car ride. Would it involve crying? Would it involve speeding? Would it involve thoughts of terror? Would it involve prayer and a trust in God? 

In his sermon the pastor also referenced our amygdala – the part of the brain that is responsible for primitive impulses that often focus on negative emotions or fight/flight responses to situations. Instances that involve fear, anger, and even pleasure can be triggered by this little bundle of cells. 

I wonder how busy my amygdala was on that car ride. When I first turned the van on and started down the road it must have been firing off messages pretty rapidly. My head was more than a body part; it was a center for fear and guilt. What was happening with Little Man? Why had I left Little Man to go to the doctor's appointment? It was an appointment that all of a sudden seemed counter-productive. As I drove on, I thought back to this message from church. I knew that I had to trust Him.  

Maybe that was a moment of Butterfly Brain for me. 

I had to consciously decide to change my thinking. Butterflies are a result of metamorphosis. I am struck by it each time I read The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle to my son. Living creatures can change each day, and so can our thoughts – if we choose to make them. 

Dealing with the fear of a child's health and safety is one thing. It is an immediate ball of fire that feels like it is being thrown. Dealing with the anger of a teenager's words are something altogether different. This situation may smolder, and with the very advanced vocabulary that a teenager can wield, it can burn slowly and extremely hot. 

It is amazing how a toddler calls me to be the protector, and a teenager calls me to memories of my own adolescence in such a frustrating, and sometimes humbling way. It appears that taking away a social event as a consequence for rudeness is quite the punishment. It may lead to hurtful questions and accusations.  

"What do you have against me?" 

"Are you doing this because my dad is not here?" 

I write these things to share how my brain has had to work through moments of pure stress. How does one explain to a highly emotional teenager that there are consequences? How does one explain that said consequences are put into place not out of malice, but out of a desire for shared respect? In the moment of heated debate, I felt myself repeating things over and over again. After the dust had settled I wondered what stress I had brought into my own mother's, and perhaps even more, my stepmother's, thought processes.  

The Butterfly Brain moment eluded me here until I was able to make a choice to establish a healthy connection, and that was also a point from the sermon. While my partner may be absent for the moment, I can still reach out to him. I can go over the scenario, ask what I should have done differently, and (thankfully) be assured that I am after all doing a fine job.  

Before motherhood, I faced stress. All people do. The stress that comes into my life now is perhaps compounded by the fear that I am not just responsible for myself, but for others as well. How badly am I going to screw these children up? I cannot be the only one who hears that question rattle around in the deep recesses of the brain. 

In an attempt to be positive and in an attempt to seek the ways of Christ, I pray that I will have more and more Butterfly Brain moments. I know that I cannot necessarily control the thoughts that pop into my brain. My past experiences, the memories stored deep within the tissue up in my head, are accessed in moments of stress in ways that a logical person might not choose. Yet despite the physical realities of my nervous system, I can strive to control the very busy, and right now, stressed parts of my mind. I can reach for thoughts of creativity and love.  

"Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things" (Philippians 4:8). 

This may be easier said than done, especially for a pregnant woman watching over a toddler and a teenager, but it is a worthwhile goal. If I think about what is pure and lovely, I cannot possibly screw them up too badly, right?!