I was about
to go to bed just a bit ago. I told myself, "Alicia, you really need to
stop going to bed so late, you are allowing bad habits to form and you need to
start changing this pattern into a much more productive schedule, one that
includes early bedtimes with early rising in the morning, in order to be as
productive as possible during any given day."
...Just kidding.
After playing solitaire 576 billion times on my phone, my brain finally started
to die and, needing to find something else to do, I decided that sleep was a
better option that going back to raid the stash of Halloween candy in the
kitchen (for what might possibly be the fifth...or sixth... time tonight). You
know, if I chose to look into that last thought more deeply, I'm sure I could
pinpoint some of my problems with going to bed at a decent hour. However, I'll
just keep blithely blaming "random insomnia" and overlook my own
actions that 'might' be to blame.
Holy cow, I have
really deviated from the topic that got this sudden creative spurt of musings
going. AS I WAS SAYING, I was about to go to bed just a bit ago, when this
mouse, out of the blue, just walks right up next to me and starts messing with
this piece of paper. At first, I thought, "OMG! I thought that mouse was
gone!!" Because we set out TONS of traps to catch it (and by ''we," I
mean "ME") and it seemed to just disappear overnight, and we hadn't
seen it for a couple of weeks. Sure, this could totally be a different mouse,
but the thought of more than one mouse running amuck kind of sets me on edge,
so I'm just going to, once again, go with denial. (There's a pattern here,
isn't there? It's been a rough, unproductive week, filled with candy hoarding
and overconsumption, brain deadening phone games [thanks to my new droid. Guess
who, once again, is way behind with the trends?], and pee soaked everything.
More on that later.)
Anyway, so my
second thought? GAME ON. Instead of being frightened of the mouse, I got
weirdly excited. I think this just goes to show how much I HAVEN'T had going on
lately, and how I desperately need to get a new hobby... but anyway. I digress.
I had rampant imaginings of my stealthy trap set up and subsequent capture of
the mouse... (let's call him Frank, so I don't have to keep typing "the
mouse.") I pictured myself setting up an intricate system of traps that would catch Frank within
a matter of minutes (because, let's face it, my ADD won't allow me to stay
interested for any serious, reasonable amount of time), and I saw myself
standing over him, watching as he pathetically squeaked and tried to get away.
Laughing maniacally, I would watch as he would gradually realize his back was
broken (that's what the site claims they do... I'm not the monster who created
these traps!) and then I would walk around him for awhile, just so he could
grasp the enormity of all he had lost, just because he chose to break into the
wrong house and infect it with his itty bitty grossness. I mean, I'm going to
have to toss most of my dry foods, thanks to my OCD when it comes to food
germs... *shudder.* Hope you enjoyed that peanut butter, THIEF! Tell me, Frank...
was your last meal really worth it???
Long story
short, he ran off somewhere (probably to go climb in my bed and spread his
grimy infested germs all over my pillow), I lost interest, and decided I needed
to tell SOMEONE about this, so that it could still be a little bit more
exciting than me just spotting a mouse all by myself, and then trying to catch
it with a dollar tree mouse trap (and baiting those things! My gosh! Is there
anything more scary than setting a trap and then having to carry it, without
tripping or bumping into ANYTHING, to a location that's not easy to reach, and
then SETTING IT DOWN without setting it off?? As if sleep wasn't going to be
hard enough knowing there is a mouse (if not more * shuddering*) on the loose,
now my nerves are shot. Thanks, Frank. I hope, if you get caught after I go to
bed, that you don't die until morning so I can lecture you and let you know how
much anxiety you caused before you blissfully pass on.) So now you know about
my 'exciting' night.
...And before
I forget, let me go back to my earlier reference to "pee soaked
everything," as I'm sure you are curious as to what that was all about. I
think I wrote a previous post about attempting to potty train Levi and how that
was (well, wasn't) going. I said something along the lines of, "wouldn't
it be ironic if he was potty trained by next week?" Well, guess what,
people? HE'S POTTY TRAINED! ...mostly. He still wears a diaper at night, but he
rarely goes in it, he can wait until morning, and as soon as he wakes up, he
goes and gets his potty seat and goes on the potty by himself! Isn't that
AMAZING???
However, we
have run into a slight issue, and it's concerning poop. Yep, poop. He goes #2
fine in his potty...but he won't tell me when he's done it. He will brag when
he's peed, but apparently, dropping a deuce is a bit more shameful to him. I
can understand... who wants someone to walk into a bathroom right after they've
gotten done letting loose a stink bomb? But this creates a couple interesting
issues. One is obvious---skid marks. Luckily, I'm still immature enough to find
it humorous when I come across them, but it gets old quickly. I only have so
many pairs of underwear... do you even KNOW how much toddler underwear costs??
It is typically $10 for a four or five pack!! What in the WORLD? It's only
going to fit him for a couple weeks!! ...But again, I'm going off track. Onto
that second issue... the one that addresses the issue of pee everywhere. You
might be thinking, of course, he has accidents. He just got potty trained---but
no. Surprisingly, after the first week, he hasn't had any accidents, and it's
been amazing! HOWEVER, you know that issue where he won't tell me he's gone
poop? Well, that means his potty, which was placed in a further back corner of
our living room (he needs privacy!) is just sitting there, full, and I don't
know that I need to go dump it out. This shouldn't be an issue, considering
it's in the back corner of the living room... until John gets home from his job
at night, and Levi goes NUTS. Suddenly super hyper, Levi will run wildly all
over the living room, racing in circles and throwing himself onto everything he
can find. Due to the clumsiness he inherited from his aforementioned father, he
trips over everything, too. Can you see where this is going?
THIS HAS
HAPPENED APPROX. FIVE TIMES NOW. I'm not joking. I have become religious about
checking to see if there's any 'surprises' left in his potty, now, because I'm
so sick of wandering around to get something and suddenly stepping into a
squishy puddle of disgustingness that has perfectly blended in with my thick dark
tan carpet from a time when Levi has tripped and spilled the contents of his
potty while I was in a different room, blissfully unaware. While I am thankful
that we don't have to worry too much about stains, I'm not sure the benefits
outweigh the grossness.
SO, that's
THAT, one of the many reasons this week has not been so great, leading me to
stay up to late, binge eating twizzlers, dots, snickers, and tootsie rolls,
thus allowing me to witness the fact that Frank has not, in fact, decided he
likes the neighbor's place better, but instead is still thriving and practically
begging to be viciously murdered in the slowest way possible.
(Just so you
know, while I was writing about the potty incidents, Frank appeared by the
traps. I put three in an intricate pattern around the bag of oatmeal he was
getting into, and added peanut butter AND oatmeal to the traps... and then I
waited to get the crap scared out of me by the 'SNAP!'...only it didn't happen.
I heard rustling, and then running away. I think he maneuvered around my traps
and ate more of that oatmeal, that bastard. Why can other ppl catch mice in
traps, but I can't??)
Anyway, it is
now ridiculously late, so I'm going to force myself to stop blathering on and
just go to bed and pray the sugar coursing through my system will peter out and
allow me a bit of sleep so I'm not a total monster in the morning. I will say,
hearing the desperate squeak of a trapped mouse will help make my day tomorrow
MUCH better... wish me luck! :)
