The Mouse in the House

I know it's been forever since I've posted anything. It's been a long month, and I just haven't had it in me to post anything. Things are starting to look up finally, but not before I thought I was going to lose my mind. This past week, I found a half eaten piece of candy in my daughter's cubby, and when I questioned my hubby, he remarked that it could NOT be a mouse because the mouse would have eaten the whole thing. I blindly and totally believed him. First mistake.

The next morning, I saw something furry and brown run out of our utility room and KNEW we had a mouse. I got the kids off to school and spent an hour sitting on my bed, wondering how I could out the door without seeing the intruder again. My husband set some traps, but I really wanted to see brooms flying and serious searching going on. No way was my hubby gonna do that.

That night, after clapping and saying "shoo" every time I entered a room, my hubby and I set traps all around the house with Starbursts on them because that was the kind of half eaten piece of candy I had found. To catch a mouse, you gotta think like a mouse, right? At 11:00 p.m., we heard a trap go off, and we had our mouse. I still have traps set just to make sure there isn't a "sibling to the mouse" still lurking about, but there has been no more evidence of any mice.

Who knew such a tiny creature could me into such a panic mode. :) My son prayed at lunch thanking God for our food and that He would "kill the mouse." He got a loud "Amen" from me.

April Fools Day?

It's been forever, but I have been SWAMPED with work. It was the kind of job where it just consumes me, and I can't do anything but think about it. So, I have been kind of holed away in my office for a week or two.

I just signed my little man up for Kindergarten. I was ok until they pulled out his birth certificate. And I realized that it was just yesterday when this wonderful person was all mine. In the beginning, I didn't have to share him with anyone and now, just 5 years later, I am about to have to give him up for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. And to be honest, it stinks. I hate it. (Here is where Mr T would pipe up, "Mommy, you said a bad word. Hate is a bad word.") No, it's not if it says what I really need it to say and I do hate it. I hate it.

I remember holding him for the first time and staring into that beautiful face. I remember everybody being asleep, and I got to feed Mr T and snuggle with him all by myself. I remember how he never cried really; he'd just start wiggling and grunting and I could feed him or change him and he would be happy. He was the best baby. I prayed and prayed that I would not be so hormonal with Mr T and God heard my prayer. We had so much fun together. And no one says that kindergarten is going to stop those fun times. They'll just change, and in case you haven't noticed, change is hard for me.

Have a wonderful April 1st.