Yesterday. Ella woke up, found a permanent marker (gotta put a tighter lid on my collection of scrapbooking supplies) and drew all over her face and hands. What a debacle this girl is.
I was not in the best of moods. There is still a mouse (mice?) dwelling within these walls, and they are of supreme intelligence. They evade the many mousetraps I have set out. I have spent several late evenings running around the house like a wack-a-doo with a bowl, trying to capture mice (or one mouse- it’s hard to say) I spy scurrying along the sides of the walls. It always ends with the mouse escaping and me making plans to move right away.
On a related note, I did catch Daniel one day. In a mouse trap, not under a bowl. He’s fine, though I suppose we’re lucky his finger is not broken. Please don’t call child services; I’m a capable parent 85% of the time, which I think is a reasonable percentage.
Thursday night, John was off to NY and I was all alone, contending with my unwanted guests. I slept with the covers over my head and got up several times in the night to run around with my bowl. I got four hours of restless sleep. I have this nightmare where a mouse tries to climb into my brain through my ear.
We went grocery shopping after my Friday morning Mothers-in-Touch meeting, where Ella tried to ride my friend’s dog like a horse. The dog was really quite lovely about it.
Then we went to Target. Got Ella new boots- pink suede ones she picked out. Daniel picked out Spiderman sneakers and I bought Caleb new shoes AND boots. I feel a little bad about sending him out in the snow and slush in sneakers that had holes in the toes.
“My teacher said I couldn’t go outside wearing these shoes. She wouldn’t feel right about it, she said.”
So that’s embarrassing.
After I spent a copious amount of money on footwear, we went to Wegmans, where a man in a large landscaping truck screeched through the parking lot, parked across from us, slammed his door, and proceeded to scream a collection of eclectic curse words at his skinny and meek looking female companion. He hit the top of his truck, he was so mad about “how stupid she was.”
Because I am fearless, I said, “Hey! Do you mind? My kids can hear you!”
He responded, “Mind your own *expletive* business!” Then he started walking toward me. He looked angry and I felt threatened. So I stuck my hand in my purse and said,
“You come any closer and you’re going to be very sorry.” He did come closer, so I pepper-sprayed him in the eyeballs.
This is all true, up to the part where I said “Hey! Do you mind?” What I actually did was put the twins into the van very quickly. Then, I unloaded my cereal and bananas with intense focus, making certain not to look in the angry man’s direction while taking care not to smush my bread. I always smush my bread.
I am not fearless. Plus, did you know it can actually be worse for the victim of physical and verbal abuse if you intervene? The abuser will take out their embarrassment and anger on the victim later.
But oh man, sometimes I do fantasize about using my pepper spray. Be forewarned.
Later at home, while sweeping the kitchen floor, I found a long lock of golden Ella hair. This was alarming. I scooped her up and examined her head. Indeed, I found a spot where the golden lock should have remained.
“Ella! Did you cut your hair?” I asked.
“Ella cut my hair, too!” Daniel interjected.
“What? Where?” He pointed to a sparse looking spot on the top of his head. “Why did you let her do that?”
“I need haircut.” This is true. He does need a haircut.
“Well, sweetie- Ella might not be the most qualified person to perform this task. Please don’t let her do that again.”
“Kay.” He shrugged and we all went about our day. No use crying over spilt hair.
John returned home before dinner and I waited expectantly for my gift, because John ALWAYS brings me a gift when he goes to NY without me. It’s Christmas time, so naturally I expected to receive snow globe of the NYC skyline from Saks.
But, no gift. No snow globe. The romance is fizzling.
“Viggo Mortensen would’ve brought me a snow globe,” I thought.
I had waited until John got home to clean up a mess the mice had made. I wanted him to see the extent of the horribleness of living with rodents.
“Look at this? What do you think these are?” I pointed to a mess in the corner of the counter behind the toaster.
“Little dead bugs?” he guessed.
“No. That is mouse EXCREMENT!!! I’ve got no snow globe and I’m living with mice! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT I AM THIS CLOSE TO HAVING A VERY UNIQUE KIND OF NERVOUS BREAKDOWN?”
So, we now have a fancier mousetrap, and if the mice are not dead, yes dead, by the end of this weekend, the professionals may be called.
Last night, Kiah peed on the rug. Caleb wet the bed. At 5:30 am, Ben puked all over his covers and the rug.
I have gone through two 22 fluid ounces of Resolve Carpet Cleaner for pets (which happily also removes puke smells) since September.
Right now, I’m supposed to be decorating for Christmas. I hauled up the bins, started decorating, and abandoned the project because I felt overwhelmed. Downstairs, it looks very much like Christmas exploded all over my kitchen. This also might be because I stupidly left Ella alone for like ten seconds with a vile of silver glitter.
On Christmas Eve, I’m totally hitchhiking a ride on Santa’s sled- a Hawaiian Christmas sounds lovely.
