This morning, and past few days, have been so crazy I am going to attempt to convey the normal chaos that is my life. Add in the time change, and it is a perfect storm.
Let's work backwards. I just finally, at nearly 11 am, cleaned up breakfast. Before that it was a dog bath, a dirty diaper, waffles for all, disposal of a rat, and inducing dog vomit. Let me explain.
For the past few weeks, we have been dealing with rats coming into our laundry room at night. It has only been confirmed in the last week, so I haven't been fully aware of it until recently. I cannot even convey how extremely disturbing this is. For many reasons. Knowing that there are vermin out there roaming my kitchen and laundry room every night is disgusting. Just lying in bed wondering what they are touching, where they are going, and what diseases they may be spreading is a literal nightmare. I dream about rats. When I actually do sleep. It is gross. I don't even feel the need to apologize for this being a "first world problem" and how I have this amazing house I live in whilst other people have rats crawling on them while they sleep. I don't care. I hate them and I want them to die.
So. We have been trying to outsmart them and trap and kill them every night for about 3 nights. We have killed three. I rigged up this elaborate "stairway to heaven" rat trap that involved them crawling into paper tubes and falling into a trash can full of water. After trying this for 3 nights, it finally killed one last night. Jimmy has been setting traditional traps. After setting two traps a night for three nights (so 6 traps) we have killed 2 that way. Not a great percentage, but we'll take it. They manage to eat the bait without getting snapped or falling into the water. It is discouraging. I chant a new inner mantra which is "I am smarter than a rodent. I am smarter than a rodent." I'm not so sure.
Last night I added a new method- mix dog food with some flour, oatmeal, and some plaster of paris. They are supposed to eat the plaster of paris, have it turn to a rock in their gut, and die.
(They seem to love dog food- they've been chewing the lid of the dog food bucket every night for about 4 weeks. It's like their own version of Shawshank Redemption. Eventually they will make it through.)
This morning Jimmy checked all our torture devices. Drowned one. Got one in a trap. Sadly, they didn't seem to touch the "poison." (This is our new morning routine- I lay in bed clutching the covers up to my neck and Jimmy goes to see what happened the night before. It's disgusting. I'm fully aware.) We hung out in our bedroom for a little while discussing it, and I got dressed (okay, just put on a sweater and my slippers, which I'm still wearing) and went out to start breakfast. I saw the dog chowing down on the plaster of paris mixture. Ugh. Have I just killed my dog?
So now I am mixing up waffles, holding Violet (her morning routine) and googling how to induce vomit in your dog. Hydrogen peroxide will do the trick. We hold her mouth open and go for it. Send her outside. She hurls white paste all over the yard. Time for breakfast kids!
After I eat toast standing up while serving waffles it's a baby diaper change, bath for the dog, and all the while I am discussing countertops with Jimmy. For our new kitchen which we are planning to purchase all the cabinets for one week from today at IKEA- their kitchen sale is ON.
This week is Spring Break. My "break", while it will not involve home school or extracurricular activities, will involve play dates, infinite laundry, planning a kitchen renovation, trying my hardest to kill as many rats as possible, editing three photo shoots from this past weekend, preparing for my bible study, and feeding six children three times a day. (I was thinking about potty training this week, but to borrow a phrase I love to hate, "I can't even.") I'm not gonna lie. When it's only Monday morning of break and you've had to deal with dog vomit and dead rats and have not gotten anything even started on your mental list of spring break must do's, it's a little discouraging. So you sit in your pajamas and write a blog about how wacky your life is and hope that maybe you can deal a little better after you get it out.
Well, it's out there. Like dog vomit in the backyard, I'm going to let the rain wash it away and start anew. Spring break here I come. I am smarter than a rodent. I am smarter than a rodent.