Last weekend I went down to our little sub-basement storage space, only to discover rodents had decided to take over. There was shredded Christmas and Hanukkah paper all over the place(apparently they are interfaith just like us), the insulation had been ripped out of the wall and there were more "pellets" than you can imagine. Lets just say... these rats are regular. I slammed the door shut and screamed for my husband. We had a big job ahead of us. I jumped in the car and quickly sped to Home Depot to procure the items we would need to begin the war. Gloves, masks, bleach and traps- lots of them. My brave husband did all the really hard work-he was down in the trenches for hours pulling out all the long forgotten random stuff we had stored in there. I took what could be salvaged out to the driveway and wiped it down with every antibacterial product known to man. It truly felt like an episode of Hoarders- especially when we discovered Matt's old Intellivison with all the games. (at least there were no dried out flattened cats or used depends- so I guess we aren't that bad)
I took this infestation as a sign that not only did I need to clean out the clutter, but I needed to address the grief over losing both of my wonderful amazing parents last year. It has been trying to surface a lot lately and I just push it down into the storage space of my heart. I'll deal with it later-I've got to make breakfast, pack lunches, plan dinner, go grocery shopping, do laundry, get the kids to school, soccer practice, play rehearsal, art class, music lessons and hundreds of other things. It is hard as a mother of two young children to take the time needed to grieve. Just like the rats found a home in the stuff packed away in the basement- grief has a way of working itself into other areas of your life if you don't face it. Losing your parents is life changing-you become a different person. I'm no longer someones daughter- that is painful. I think I'm going to go to a grief support group. If I put grieving into my schedule-perhaps the rats will go away.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Thursday, November 7, 2013
lunch
Hi Friends. Forgive me. It has been a couple of weeks since I last blogged. If you could see me, I would be crossing myself and asking how many "Hail Marys" I need to say. I'm not Catholic - but I feel a tremendous amount of guilt for my procrastination. So, I figured it can't hurt, right? I have just been so busy eating my kids' Halloween candy that I haven't had time to write. Sugar comas are not conducive to anything other than preparing to be a contestant on The Biggest Loser.
I had a weird day yesterday. I went to my local El Pollo Loco for a pollo bowl with no pollo or cilantro (I hate that stuff- it tastes like perfume). I was in line behind a nicely dressed, mid-30's man who was texting on his iPhone- I point this out because that is why I noticed his very long well groomed fingernails. Long fingernails on a man are just nasty (unless you are a drag queen- then you get a pass). This man was not a drag queen. In fact, other than his nails, he was macho in a kind of intimidating way. He had a shaved head with a large (old) scar on the back of it. Just as I was taking in this dude's strangeness, another guy got in line behind me. He was fairly large and had clearly been in a recent fight. I could tell this because he had a cut on his nose that was just starting to scab over and a faint black eye. The cast of characters around me was starting to make me feel as though I had stumbled into a Quentin Tarantino movie. A minute or so passed - it was a busy lunch hour. A small man in construction clothes came up and casually asked (in broken English) if we were in line. The man behind me replied with extreme venom "No, we are just standing here for fun you dumb f*ck!!" At this point, I was looking for the nearest exit realizing why the man behind me had his wounds. He was obviously always looking for a fight. Luckily, the little man did not challenge this ball of anger and silently went to the back of the line. I could almost feel the heat of rage bouncing off this man and onto my back. I thought to myself "I should just leave - what if this man has a gun and the cashier tells him they are out of sour cream or the man with the long nails accidentally brushes up against him and scratches him with his talons." But I was hungry. So, I stayed against my better judgement. My stomach is clearly stronger (and bigger) than my brain. Nothing ended up happening, but, thinking back, I should have listened to my fear and left. A rice and bean bowl is not worth putting myself in danger. I do have to admit it tasted pretty darn good when I ate it though. I think adrenaline makes things taste better than they actually are.
I had a weird day yesterday. I went to my local El Pollo Loco for a pollo bowl with no pollo or cilantro (I hate that stuff- it tastes like perfume). I was in line behind a nicely dressed, mid-30's man who was texting on his iPhone- I point this out because that is why I noticed his very long well groomed fingernails. Long fingernails on a man are just nasty (unless you are a drag queen- then you get a pass). This man was not a drag queen. In fact, other than his nails, he was macho in a kind of intimidating way. He had a shaved head with a large (old) scar on the back of it. Just as I was taking in this dude's strangeness, another guy got in line behind me. He was fairly large and had clearly been in a recent fight. I could tell this because he had a cut on his nose that was just starting to scab over and a faint black eye. The cast of characters around me was starting to make me feel as though I had stumbled into a Quentin Tarantino movie. A minute or so passed - it was a busy lunch hour. A small man in construction clothes came up and casually asked (in broken English) if we were in line. The man behind me replied with extreme venom "No, we are just standing here for fun you dumb f*ck!!" At this point, I was looking for the nearest exit realizing why the man behind me had his wounds. He was obviously always looking for a fight. Luckily, the little man did not challenge this ball of anger and silently went to the back of the line. I could almost feel the heat of rage bouncing off this man and onto my back. I thought to myself "I should just leave - what if this man has a gun and the cashier tells him they are out of sour cream or the man with the long nails accidentally brushes up against him and scratches him with his talons." But I was hungry. So, I stayed against my better judgement. My stomach is clearly stronger (and bigger) than my brain. Nothing ended up happening, but, thinking back, I should have listened to my fear and left. A rice and bean bowl is not worth putting myself in danger. I do have to admit it tasted pretty darn good when I ate it though. I think adrenaline makes things taste better than they actually are.
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