Because Leukemia Isn't Enough
We've had mice in our house. Gosh. Just writing it embarrasses the heck out of me. Dirty. Gross. Mice. Bad house keeper.
I know. I know. Mice go where they can go. They get into even new, clean homes. Well our house is new at least.
The week before we started camping in the hospital I finally gave up on getting the mice on my own and called the Orkin man. He came to our house, made racist comments about the neighborhood, checked out the window every two minutes to be sure his gigantic truck hadn't been broken into, sealed up some holes in the exterior of our house and left some poison in our house.
We heard 'crunch' 'crunch' 'crunch' for a few nights as the little beasties feasted on poison. I kept telling myself it would be three to five days and it would be over and by then Naomi would be sleeping through the night and my life would be back and I could stop being sleep deprived and start working out and be more positive and life would ROCK!
Well. About two days into Eliot's hospital stay I stopped hearing the mice at night. About five days into his stay I started smelling a mouse in the basement. About ten days into his stay I started hearing new mice crunch on the poison.
Tonight while I was searching around for Eliot's three am snack (which I think was partially brought on by Naomi's two am snack - yes she did sleep through a few nights there but not tonight) I saw the mouse run across the table. The table. The freaking table where my babies eat all of their meals (well, most of their meals).
I ended up waking Aron up to get Eliot a snack because in my current state of exhaustion, deer in the headlights what the hell happened to life, holding on by staying focused on the moment I couldn't stand the idea of being surprised by one more thing. I couldn't stand it. And now, an hour later I'm still wide awake.
Awesome. Totally awesome.
I know. I know. Mice go where they can go. They get into even new, clean homes. Well our house is new at least.
The week before we started camping in the hospital I finally gave up on getting the mice on my own and called the Orkin man. He came to our house, made racist comments about the neighborhood, checked out the window every two minutes to be sure his gigantic truck hadn't been broken into, sealed up some holes in the exterior of our house and left some poison in our house.
We heard 'crunch' 'crunch' 'crunch' for a few nights as the little beasties feasted on poison. I kept telling myself it would be three to five days and it would be over and by then Naomi would be sleeping through the night and my life would be back and I could stop being sleep deprived and start working out and be more positive and life would ROCK!
Well. About two days into Eliot's hospital stay I stopped hearing the mice at night. About five days into his stay I started smelling a mouse in the basement. About ten days into his stay I started hearing new mice crunch on the poison.
Tonight while I was searching around for Eliot's three am snack (which I think was partially brought on by Naomi's two am snack - yes she did sleep through a few nights there but not tonight) I saw the mouse run across the table. The table. The freaking table where my babies eat all of their meals (well, most of their meals).
I ended up waking Aron up to get Eliot a snack because in my current state of exhaustion, deer in the headlights what the hell happened to life, holding on by staying focused on the moment I couldn't stand the idea of being surprised by one more thing. I couldn't stand it. And now, an hour later I'm still wide awake.
Awesome. Totally awesome.
posted by Sara at 3:50 AM
4 Comments:
Ahh Sara hang in there! And remember...a year from now (or maybe even less!?!?), you'll probably be laughing at mice running across your kitchen table:) Grab some chocolate and join Eliot in his 3am snack-makes life a lot better:) Take care!
Funny how the mouse was the last straw for both of us! I'd loan you my cat, but she'd just sit on it. : )
Dawn
A couple of things kids. First let Eliot eat what he wants!!! George is on prednisone most of the time and he hides sweets..yes hides them..He sympathizes with the little boy...Also the nose picking thing..well many years ago our youngest pert, blonde and unterlly charming stood in front of the altar with her flower girl dress and white gloves on and dug for a bogger that must have been lodged in her tonsils...Laugh sweety . I got news for too I don't what the good Book says anger is just fine. Anger got me through some very rough spots...F it Did I say that.. Yup
thought you might like this animation
http://www.eatmousies.com/intro.html
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