#15 – Things I sorta already knew…

but learned again recently…

Never say never.   The finality of it will feel like a challenge.  (Insert far too much self-analysis here.)

No matter how careful I am, I am not careful enough to keep from splattering big dark blobs of hair color all over the carpet every time I dye my hair.

If I forget to put the sheets in the dryer until 11:00 p.m., then we have to wait until 11:40 to go to bed.

I’m too old to stay up until 11:40.

Taking a cat to the vet costs at least $500.  They always find a problem.  It’s just the same as taking your car to the shop, except there’s fur.

IKEA seems like such a good idea, until I get there, and then it just makes me achy and sad.  Like nachos.

I don’t have enough space for my junk.  (I went to IKEA looking for junk storage.)

It’s really hard to let go of the stuff that I like to make room for the stuff that I love, sooooo…the stuff that I love is waiting in drawers and closets and piles and boxes.  Waiting.  And the stuff that I only like is hanging on the walls.  Sigh.  😐

Dark purple Mario fruit snacks look a lot like little balls of cat poo when I spy them on the floor in my dimly lit living room.  Their grape scent momentarily confuses me.

One of my son’s biggest challenges is communicating his long-term goals.  And by “long-term,” I mean what he wants four minutes from now.  He starts every goal by communicating only the first step: “I want Mama up.”  His ultimate objective is a mystery that only he can know until each step is completed, in order, one at a time.  I try to get more information by asking “I want Mama up because…??”  On a good day he will finish the sentence – “I want Mama up, because I want Mama to be standing.”  😐

When Oreo cookies go on sale, husband or I must buy them.  Must.  Buy.  Them.  Double Stuff.

My older brother knows way more about books than I ever will.

I used to love playing jacks.  The metal kind.  They were heavy and offered a satisfying tactile experience.  The new, too-big-for-little-fingers, neon-colored, sticks-to-itself-rubber jacks just aren’t the same.  😐

Giant umbrellas will pop open in the car.  Twice.

If I really enjoy the hotel jacuzzi, then I will not have a card key to get back into the building until I am freezing again.  Freezing.  In a wet swimsuit.  In the dark.  Other hotel guests will stare at me when I walk around through the parking lot to find an open door.  I will not find an open door.

Six quarts of crock pot vegetable soup = six quarts of trash if you add just one ingredient that doesn’t have quite the right flavor.  I added two.  😦  Tarragon and green onions…what was I thinking?!?  Darn it!

If I decide at the last minute to take my cat to the vet, then I will forget to do something else, like put my son’s lunch in his backpack.

If I forget to put my son’s lunch is his backpack, my sense of self-worth in the motherhood department will look like a ball on New Year’s Eve – sparkling and determined (until the wrong is righted), then dark and low for a really long time.  Oy.

I can never have enough tin ornaments.

When I am at my lowest, a thrift store visit is sometimes all the pick-me-up I need, especially when it yields cheery little creatures.

Happy Tuesday!
♥♥