The last 10 days have been a BANG. Like a fiery explosion of continuous mess. It all started last Sunday evening around bedtime.
I went up and put B down while S finished watching Trolls and hubs finished up painting our powder room. I came back down and told S it was time to go up. She of course said “i’m not tired!” and started bounding around the room like a lunatic. Before I could stop her, she was jumping onto the leather (insert slippery) chair next to the low profile fireplace. One jump to the left, and she hit the arm and piled overboard, headfirst onto the stone at the base of the fireplace. Crap. How bad is it?
Fast forward. Its bad enough to need a staple. After a couple FaceTimes to get opinions, we headed into the pediatric ER at 8pm (#pastbedtime) to get treated. Great. After 2 hours, a can of numbing spray, and the entire series of Disney Princess Short Stories, we left the ER with samples of Bacitracin and some new, semi-permanent bling in our head. Its one step closer to pierced ears for my almost 3 year old diva who has been asking all year for earrings.
Week can’t get any more challenging, right? Wrong. A couple days later, I was working in my office during naps and heard Kate the cat playing outside the office. She usually sleeps on the bench in my office while I work to guard me from the dogs. B started to wake up and then S. So I went up and got them, brought them down, let B run around while Diva S changed into a dress and went potty (on the big potty THANK GOD).
About 10 minutes later, the kids wandered into the den area and I went to go pick up the splatter of toys around the foyer. Thats when I saw it. NOT A TOY. But the most gigantic, big bellied, DEAD mouse. I almost picked her up. Barf. HOLY COW, WE HAVE WALKED PAST THIS THING FOR LIKE 15 MINUTES! I freaked out and weighed my options. Do I leave? Put a tupperware over it until hubs gets home? Burn the house down? I settled on taking a broom and sweeping it into an empty garbage can from 4 feet away. Though, I SERIOUSLY considered just leaving with the kids and putting tupperware over it.
Next steps: Call the exterminator. Lock the cat in the basement. I don’t want any more gifts. The exterminator came and verified that this was a pregnant mouse. He then said “Well, your cat was bringing you a client?” HAHA. Well played, Mr. Exterminator. (I own a prenatal and postnatal fitness business) Mouse sitch taken care of. We had the whole house evaluated and will be converted into the Fort Knox to keep mice out when the temp hits 50 degrees. PS. The death toll hit 6 by the time the exterminator came. At one point, S said, “Mama! Kate brought a box upstairs!” It was a mouse IN A TRAP. They are now baited so the cat will not get them from a trap and bring them up. THANK GOD.
The week is coming to a better pace FINALLY after B barfed all over his bed the other day, and S missed school due to a productive cough followed by some hardcore mom shaming done by another preschool parent in the parking lot. B learned that cleaning the toilet will be his reward for potty training and takes full advantage of any potty cleaning he can get his hands on. Even at Noodles and Co. Heres to March coming in like a lion and (hopefully) out like a lamb.
Practical things I learned over the past 10 days:
-Staples to the head are harder on mom than the kid.
-Mice should be baited instead of trapped. For many reasons.
-My kids love weird rewards.
-Giving up and burning the house down are not feasible. MUST. HAVE. COPING. SKILLS.
-Mom shaming is awful, but you can always call your bestie while crying/chugging a latte in the parking lot of Walgreens and YOU WILL FEEL BETTER.
-This too, shall pass.
Coffee. Workout. Wine. Repeat. AF 