Please remind me...

Please remind me that it really is a good policy to not go to the grocery store when hungry. I went in to grab a frozen meal to pop into my microwave while I was working, and came out with the meal, a can of Pringles, and some gummy worms. I will allow that Pringles are my guilty pleasure, but GUMMY WORMS??? What is wrong with me? I don't even give them to my kids, let alone dash back to my office, salivating over their sugary chewiness... What am I thinking today?

Please remind me that February in Iowa is cold and that I shouldn't forget my scarf at home on a day that I have to take Milo to preschool (necessitating a trip to the car mid-day) and two meetings across campus at completely different ends of the day. I should also reconsider my "No Hat-Hair" policy on days like today. And I really shouldn't wear a lightweight skirt, either. What idiot taught me to dress for the weather?

Please remind me that if never fails that the ONLY time I ever really want to watch TV live is for figure skating. And that the competitors I'm waiting to watch will inevitably skate during the middle of my children's bath and bedtime routine. And that on the day the Ladies take the ice, my kids will balk about going to bed. And stall. And whine. Sigh... I really wanted to be held hostage by Scott Hamilton last night, not "A-wol," the Little Mermaid, in the bathtub.

Please remind me...

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Please remind me...

I think I am going to start a new thing in my blog -- Please Remind Me. I'm going to use it to sum up stuff that is blog-worthy, but not necessarily worthy of an entire post. Oh, and I poke a little fun at myself along the way...

Please remind me that I hate to sew. Remind me of this when I decide to take apart the custom curtains (originally made by me) and alter them from full-length lined panels into lined valences with beaded trim. Remind me of this when I tackle the project when Violet is asleep and Milo is playing a Wii game that frustrates him, because him being frustrated with a game and me being ticked off at my mother-trucking sewing machine is NOT a good combination. Please remind me that real women do not HAVE to do this crap...

Please remind me that I don't need to pick up any more germs from my little angels. Remind me of this when I'm sitting on mt couch and start coughing and pee a bit. Remind me when I sneeze so crazy hard I actually sneeze my tampon outta my hoo-ha. Remind me of this when I cough so hard that I gag, gag so hard that I vomit, vomit so hard that I dry heave, and dry heave so hard that I spit out bloody mucous. And when I look at myself in the mirror and start crying because I have three inches of green snot dripping down to my chin, I'm red-faced, red-eyed, and sweaty. Remind me again when I look in the mirror later and discover that I've broken all of the blood vessels around my eyes, leading me to look like Stephen Tyler after a freakin' good party -- minus the freakin' good party.

Finally, please remind me to hide my garbage better lest my vandalous, obsessive-compulsive mutts get into it and drag bloody tampons all over the main level of my house when I'm asleep for the night. Apparently, putting it in the shower isn't safe enough, because they pulled down the shower curtain and ransacked the entire room. Remind me of this when I'm cleaning up all of the things they barf up that they shouldn't have eaten in the first place.