Another Way Mice Suck

Posted on 02/18/2019 by chick

The reason I went into the junk drawer today was to gather the box tops that we’ve clipped from food containers over the last few months. There’s a little baggie in the drawer for the box tops to go in, but my hubby usually just throws them into the drawer loose. I don’t mind that he does it that way. At least he takes the time to cut them out. (I think the box top program is stupid, but if we don’t cut the things out, then the school loses out on money. I play along because my philosophy is that you shouldn’t throw away free money.) But now, thanks to the mice and their poop, the loose box tops are getting thrown away instead of redeemed for money for our school. What a waste.

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Mice Suck

Posted on 02/18/2019 by chick

Which is more upsetting?

  1. That I ended up with mouse poop in my hand today.
  2. That it took me a while to realize that I had a handful of mouse poop.
  3. That after realizing I had a handful of mouse poop, other unpleasant realities were revealed.

Little shredded bits of paper and plastic in the junk drawer ought to have been a clue that mice had been at work, but at first I thought it was abrasion, or the breakdown of cheap plastic, which does happen. I ought to have put two and two (or poo and poo) together sooner, but I simply didn’t expect a mouse incursion in my junk drawer. We take things out and/or put things into that drawer nearly every day. In the ten years we’ve lived here, there have never been any mice in that drawer or in the cabinets below it.

As a germaphobe, that handful of mouse poop was quite traumatic for me. I washed and washed and backed the washing up with a dose of hand sanitizer (which, believe it or not, I generally do not use). Good thing I already have a mantra: You have to believe your hands are clean. You have to believe your hands are clean. You have to believe your hands are clean. (Say it enough times, it must be true.)

So then, having put two and two together, I remembered that a few weeks ago we found a hole in a bag of spice in the spice drawer. At the time, we thought it was abrasion that had caused the hole, so we simply put it into another bag. Today, with more information in hand (literally), it occurred to me, could that hole have been caused by mice also? So I mentioned that to my husband, and he replied, “I took care of it.” Translation: “Yes, I realized later that it was mice, but I didn’t mention it to you, because you had eaten contaminated spice and I was trying to shield you from that knowledge.”

Shit. I hate mice. I can’t believe that I once wrote a story about a friendly mouse. Mice are not friendly. They are horrible little monsters that get into your stuff and poop all over it. And unlike children, which arguably do the same, there’s no chance that mice will take care of you when you get old. Mice suck.

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Parlez-vous francais?

Posted on 02/17/2019 by chick

My friend recently told me that she has been studying French, a language which we both learned in high school. That made me wonder how much of the language I still retain. It didn’t take me long to realize that I remember just enough to be frustrated by it. I was never fluent, and I’ve lost all claim to being conversant. However, I do think I could pull off a rather startling monologue. It would go something like this:

I am American.

Let the good times roll.

I love you, and also croissants.

Do you want to sleep with me tonight?

My God, there’s a dragon in my bed!

To arms, citizens. Form your battalions.

One, two, three, fire!

Magnificent. Let’s go to the library.

The End

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That Can Wait

Posted on 02/16/2019 by chick

The shower is the perfect place to think random thoughts. Today, as I washed my hair, I was thinking about how easy it is prioritize when dealing with the world’s problems (i.e., things that are not within your power to change), but how it’s hard to prioritize when it comes to your own life (i.e., things you can indeed control). The farther we get away from our own personal concerns, the easier it is to be objective and the wiser our decisions are likely to be.

As I was having this thought, Livia came into the bathroom to ask me a question that she insisted could not wait until I got out of the shower. So I asked her what the problem was. She replied, “Can I make some photocopies using your printer?”

Really? That was the thing that couldn’t wait? It was so ridiculous that I didn’t even get mad at her. Since the average adult is hardly any better at deciding what’s urgent and what’s isn’t, how could I expect a child to know better? But, because I want her to learn better, I made her wait for the answer to her question until I got out of the shower!

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Who Needs Romance?

Posted on 02/16/2019 by chick

The kids like to come into my office while I’m watching TV. I often watch sci-fi, which they like, and as long as it’s not rated above PG-13, odds are that I’ll let them watch it with me. But I go through phases of watching romantic comedies and cheesy romantic holiday movies, too. The kids don’t like those phases so much. They don’t want to see kisses. They want to see superheros and starship battles. One day, when the disappointment was particularly acute, Marshall asked, “Why do people watch romantic movies when they could watch action movies?”

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Magic and Science

Posted on 02/14/2019 by chick

Lately I’ve been streaming The Librarians, a TV show in which a team of librarians protect the world from evil magicians and dangerous magical artifacts. It’s a silly show, but entertaining. Favorite quote so far: “Magic is not an exact science. If it were, it would be science.”

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Don’t Ignore the Stranger

Posted on 02/05/2019 by chick

Months ago, my husband installed a backup directory on my computer. He told me to move my personal files into that directory so that they’d get backed up, but I never did. Not until yesterday, that is, after reading a newspaper article about how everyone ought to back up their files because every hard drive is destined to fail.

My hubby questioned why I didn’t listen to him and only set things up properly after being reminded by the newspaper. It’s because when a loved one tells you to do something totally reasonable, such as back up your files, you know that they’re right. It just doesn’t feel like a pressing issue, so you push it off. But when a stranger unexpectedly warns you about something that you already know to be true, you should take heed. If you ignore them, and then things play out exactly as they predicted, you will remember their warning always, and with regret. In hindsight, you’ll see how that moment was a turning point and how you screwed up. This is a lesson I have learned the hard way. Don’t ignore the stranger!

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Why Does Everything Have to Take So Long?

Posted on 02/03/2019 by chick

Today I’m continuing my efforts to clean up around here (“here” meaning my head, the blog, and my house). I did dishes and laundry. I cleaned out my closet. I deleted or posted all but 9 draft blog posts. I put some old writing into Scrivener to be dealt with.

I just wish my progress were faster. The clutter weighs on me. I feel stressed just looking at it. Why does everything have to take so long?

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Gotta Crawl into Bed

Posted on 02/02/2019 by chick

Today, I looked outside and saw that there was still snow on the ground from Wednesday night’s snow squalls. It was pretty, and the temperature was above freezing, but not high enough for tick activity. It seemed like a good day for a walk. I thought a walk would be good for me and also for the kids. So I bundled them up and took them out.

It wasn’t entirely a good idea. The exercise was good for me, but I am now thoroughly exhausted. When I get tired, my crankiness and paranoia soar to unmanageable levels. The only way I know how to deal with that is to crawl into bed and watch TV or read. So I guess that’s how I’ll be spending my evening.

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Last Thoughts at Night

Posted on 02/02/2019 by chick

Dear Kids,

When you were babies I got into the habit of checking on you each night before I went to bed. I wanted to make sure you were still breathing. I know that probably sounds paranoid, but if you ever have babies of your own, then maybe you’ll understand.

I still check on you most nights, and I still sometimes pause until I hear you breathe. I used to give you each a kiss on the cheek but, as you got older, that would sometimes make you start. I don’t want to interrupt your sleep, so I don’t do that anymore.

Marshall used to sleep with so many toys in his bed that there was no room for him. I used to put them away, and then, because he used to sleep too close to the edge of the bed, I would put pillows on the floor, just in case he fell out of bed. Then it was Livia for whom I did those extra things. Not anymore, though. Livia sometimes still has a few too many stuffed animals, but not usually enough to crowd her out of her own bed.

Livia likes to sleep with her comforter over her head. It used to be that if I pulled the comforter off her head, she would take a long, deep breath, as if grateful for the cool influx of air into her lungs. Now she usually pulls it right back over her head. So much for that idea.

Lately, sometimes one or both of you is awake. Livia was still reading at 10:30 the other night, and she begged to be allowed to continue, because she was just three pages away from the end. (Aw! She’s so much like her mommy!) Because I’m a reader who knows what it’s like to want to stay up to finish a book, I let her. But, because I’m a mom, I also told her not to do it again.

This routine can’t last much longer. You don’t seem to mind me checking in on you for now. If you’re awake, sometimes you even have things that you want talk to me about. Eventually this routine of mine will become unwelcome, though, and I want to give it up before it does, which means soon. It’ll be a tough routine to break. You’re still my first thoughts in the morning and my last thoughts at night.

Love,

Mom

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