I Have a Problem

A big one.  Or maybe several small ones.  And I'm a little hesitant to admit it.  But I believe the internet is a sacred place.  A safe place where I can say anything and no one will judge me.  So here it is:

WE HAVE MICE.

Yep.  Dirty little mice.  I assume they're dirty anyway.  What else would they be?  They are running around on MY floors after all.

We used to have mice when we first moved in here, 8 years ago, but after putting out some poison they magically disappeared, and we haven't seen them again until now.  Now, we Definitely have mice again.  Sometimes at night when I am sitting at my desk I can hear them scratch, scratching in the closet next to me.  Or scratch, scratching somewhere in the living room while I am watching TV.  Whenever I hear them I just start yelling and stomping on the floor.  Cuz if I were their size that would scare the crap out of me.  But they just keep getting bolder and bolder.  The other night while playing on the X-Box I distinctly heard a "Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!" go running across the room behind me.  I mean!  The nerve!  If I were living in a Giant's house, eating their food, trying to stay alive, I would try my hardest NOT to run screaming through a room that they were in.  Maybe he did it on a dare?  Maybe it was some sort initiation into a mousy fraternity or something.  That probably IS what is actually going on, cuz the next night I actually SAW the mouse running to hide out under my entertainment center.  Which was the last straw.  I can pretend they aren't there if I only hear them once in a while, but now I don't really have a choice!  I went out and bought some mouse traps, which claim to get rid of mice FAST, and do it without me having to even see the mouse once it is caught.



Only once I got them home I realized they don't come with any bait.  I thought they'd be like Ant traps, all souped up and ready to go, but NO.  WE have to bait them OURSELVES.

And so, tonight, the traps are set, baited with a variety of cheese, peanut butter, and even a gold fish cracker.  Let's see which works best?  You're Going Down Little Mousy!

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DAY 2 -

NO TRAPS SPRUNG.

Not even one.  The mice didn't fall for it.  All my spiffy new traps are sitting alone and impotent.  I really kind of expected them to each have a mice inside and my problems would be over.

But clearly not.  And to make matters worse, this morning some cheeky mouse went running ACROSS MY KITCHEN FLOOR!  In the full light of day!  In view of me and both my children!  So now I am just mad.    AT LEAST COWER BEFORE ME, TINY MOUSE!  I AM HUGE!

So I looked online:  Best mouse trap bait.  The verdict - peanut butter.  Hmm.  Not impressed.  They also said if you don't catch anything in a week, change out your bait.  A WEEK!  I'm not going to wait a week while some free-loading rodent goes to town in my kitchen!  Besides,  I suspect these mice are highly evolved because of the radiation levels around here, and it is going to take something more than PEANUT BUTTER to tempt them.  Tonight I am going to put money in one of them.  And maybe a tiny motorcycle in another.  Then I'll pimp out one to look a little Night Club.  Where they can also gamble.  And another I will make to look like a game store, complete with a Dungeons and Dragons tournament going on in the back room.   And on one I am just going to stick a tiny "WalMart" sign, and see how many don't get trapped inside.  Then we'll see.   And if all that doesn't work, I've also just found some Rat Poison that even I am not supposed to touch with my bare hands, so one way or another, the status quo is about to change. Those disrespectful mice might think they own the place, but they are about to find out just how terrifying I can be.  And now, in honor of the Mouse Annihilation that will soon take place, I will leave you with a poem, by my brother-in-law Lance:

Pitter-patter little mouse
sneaking all around my house
Fae caught you once inside her closet
While she made a shirt deposit

Pitter-patter little mouse
Fae doesn't want you near her blouse!
so I sent Ethan for my broom
(I keep it in the other room)

My eyes stayed fast upon your spot
A way to pass me filled your thoughts!
Oh where's the broom!  Hey look! It's here!
and then you knew the end was near.

The curtains closing, things looked bleak.
Your chances slim, your position weak.
And just when things were at their worst
When with fear you thought you'd burst
a tiny flash of hope and chance
told you that you might pass Lance
without being hit by my large broom
maybe you could skip your doom.

So up you sprang!
Out toward the door!
My broom, I swang
down toward the floor!

I did not get you on that day
You jumped and zagged and got away

But heed my words, for this I swear
If I see your mousy hair
Even though It cause me strain
I'll whack you hard right on your brain!



And I will, Little Mouse.  I WILL.

A Lot of Things. Really, REALLY Important Things.

Hey Misty!  I made this just for you!


You inspired me so much when you talked about these "Keep Calm" signs, that I just had to make one of my own.  And I love The IT Crowd.  I'm gonna put this on a t-shirt, and have the numbers wrap all the way around my side.  Awesomme!  (I like 2 M's in awesome.  It makes it seem kinda French.)


Other Things!

  • Colin spent Relief Society yesterday wandering around to all the sisters trying to find someone who would give him food.  I told him if he got any chocolate he had to bring it straight back to me.  It was a pretty good plan.  Till some sweet little old lady wouldn't let him wander off with her cane like he wanted, and he laid right down at her feet and cried.  Then we finished off church with him crying on his back on the floor of the gym.  So, yeah, standard Sunday.
  • I think I'm gonna start a company that sells Door Mats.  Because I sense there is a real need there.  I'm gonna call it "Soul Mats"  Get it?
  • I like to think of Canada as the United States' Hat. Mexico is, of course, USA's kicky scarf. And I always fondly think of Florida as the U.S. of A's fancy little earring!
  • This is a free country. To me that means I should be free to shop at Kmart without having to listen to Melissa Etheridge.
  • Being in a fabric store with my kids is like repeatedly punching myself in the head.  At some point I just get bored of it, you know?


And now for a moment of introspection. . . . . .

It's inevitable that as a blogger sometimes you will feel like you are talking to yourself.  Depending on who you are (and how much talking out loud you do when there is no one else in the room) you might always feel like you are talking to yourself.  The question is, does it matter?    I don't write the same way on this  blog as I do in my journal.  (When I am writing in my journal I like to say "Doi!" a lot.)  because the audience is different.  The question is, as a blogger, who IS your audience?   And what AM I getting at?  Again, DOES it matter?  I go through phases where I don't want to write anything, to phases where I don't want to READ anything, to phases where I just want to be the queen of the whole blogiverse!  And then I go through phases where I throw things a lot, but I guess that isn't really related.  So, obviously, the question is: Does the radio host just keep on talking even though he can't be sure anyone is listening?

Maybe what I should be asking myself is, what would Howard Stern do?

Mostly, I just talk a lot about nothing.  I cannot get myself to shut up sometimes.  See, we have something in common!!

More About Me Than You Would Care to Know

So, Pinterest, right?  I know.  When I first looked at Pinterest I was like, "Meh."  But now I'm like "Weeeee!"  I know you feel me.  (Except those of you who don't know what I'm talking about.  I don't want you guys to touch me.)  It is way better than bookmarking webpages and so very addicting. But am I the only one who sometimes gets depressed looking at Pinterest, or reading blogs?  The gulf between what I want to be and where I actually am seems so wide sometimes.  For instance, for like a month I have been pinning pictures of dining rooms that look like this:


while my actual dining room STILL looks like this:




or lately I have been pinning wonderful lunches to feed my two little darlings that look like this:


but standard lunch round these parts usually ends up being:




I pin hairstyles that look like this:



But half the time my hair looks more like this:



And I pin all sorts of cute outfits like the following:



But 86% of the time I leave the house in clothes like these:




All this stuff can get a girl down!  You know?  But what I have to remember is that

I AM FABULOUS!  I am Freakin' Fantastic!   I really am!  I almost never fart loudly in public, I have really good veins, I make delicious cookies, I make myself laugh, I have perfectly adequate penmanship, I like BOTH of my kids, I wash the dishes sometimes, I'm rockin' hairy legs and I am murder on the dance floor!  I'm AWESOME!  And I would say there is like a 50/50 chance that you are awesome too.  Maybe even 70/30.  Admit it!  You are swell!  So go ahead and keep pinning all the things and go right ahead and implement them if you ever take the notion, but you don't need to be and do all the things in those pretty little pictures to be great.  You are already great.

Here, I have put this handy reminder in vinyl sign format so that this can be stuck up on your bathroom mirror to act as a mantra for you to repeat morning and night.



Also, and this is just as important: none of that other stuff actually matters.  At all.  I know what matters.  You know what matters.  We all know what matters.  So don't forget, ok?