The Connolly Family

We are now (for the moment) critter free.

The guy came and eventually discovered a gathering (no nest to my knowledge) of brown thrashers in the crawl space under the house behind the fireplace.  They appeared to have come from the chimney (a long and detailed description is required to explain the exact situation, so I’m going to go with the mysterious angle on this one).  I also learned the following things:

1) The critter guy said he’d “never seen a chimney/fireplace set-up like that on a house.”  He said he’d seen plenty on apartments (old ones), but never on a house.  This isn’t a huge shocker given the do-it-yourself genius who lived here previously (and whose handiwork we’ll be correcting for years to come).

2) The fireplace isn’t unsafe, but we’ll need to get the thing sealed to prevent more critters from making their home in our home.  This needs to be done before I deliver because I can’t handle the thought of a rat infestation and a new baby.  Not.  Happening.

3) I don’t deal well with possible critter infestations while massively pregnant.  There were tears.  Big old crocodile tears.

4) I need a vacation.  Stat.

What I needed was to have a stress-free super-productive couple of days getting everything ready to leave.  What I needed was extra energy to help things move smoothly.  What I needed was a couple of hours this afternoon with my feet up while Liam naps in order to gear up for a long afternoon of work.

What I got was pee on a comforter and sheet set resulting in several unanticipated washloads before I could even begin the planned laundry.  What I got was sheer and utter exhaustion and too much stress resulting in nausea and painful contractions.  What I got was a dehumidifier that leaked all over the rug (performing the exact opposite of its intended purpose).  What I got is something ALIVE in my chimney potentially trying to scratch its way into my living room and infect me, my son, and my fetus with rabies while destroying our family room and attempting to make a permanent nest in our couch.

What Matt needed was a super-productive day at work.  What he got was a borderline hysterical phone call from his monstrously pregnant, furiously contracting wife.

The animal control guy is supposed to be here by 5.  Meanwhile I have a large cooler, a large wooden step-stool, two 25 pound weights and a leather club chair pressed up against the fireplace opening.

$170 and several hours from now what I’d better have is a rodent-free house.

The phone calls from the people offering home services of all sorts who are “already working in the neighborhood and want to offer a free estimate” on whatever they do are one thing.  The Robo Calls from every political candidate and their brothers (and sisters) are another.  The calls from nonprofit organizations with whom I’ve never had any contact and whose credentials are shady at best (yes, I check) are still another.  But I swear to you, if I get one more collect call request from someone I not only don’t know, but also can’t understand to save my life (always while I am putting Liam down for a nap, trying to help him go to the bathroom, feeding him lunch, or savoring the first few moments of getting to put my feet up after he goes down) I am going to scream.

There needs to be a “Do Not Call” list that applies to all categories.  Basically, I want my phone to screen any and all calls that do not come from someone I know.  Today would be an excellent day for this to take effect.

[Scene:  I’ve just finished going to the bathroom for the umpteenth time this morning and Liam is (as always) sitting on the floor of the bathroom as I finish my business.]

Liam:  Hey Mama?

Shannon:  Yes, Doodlebug?

Liam:  You don’t have a penis?

Shannon:  No, Doodlebug, I don’t.  Boys and men have penises but women and girls don’t.

Liam:  Oh.  We haf-ta go to da store and get some more penises?  More penises for Mama?

Shannon:  Well, that’s not exactly how it works…

There’s not much sweeter than starting the morning listening to Liam serenade me with his rendition of “down by the riverside, down by the riverside, down by the riverside, study war no more.”

[Backstory:  My mom found the ultimate recipe for chewy chocolate chip cookies recently (after being charged with the task by yours truly) and yesterday Liam and I headed to Decatur to do a test run after his nap.  What we didn’t realize was that the recipe makes 6 dozen cookies (or that we would have a strong desire to eat the entire 6 dozen).  Jump to today:  We had just arrived home from an afternoon walk and Matt was in the kitchen sneaking a few of these cookies while Liam was playing around the corner.  Matt got a small reprieve when Liam needed to go to the bathroom and I took him down the hall.  He came down the hall to help with the proceedings after he’d finished stuffing the last one in his mouth.  The following conversation is what came next.]

Liam:  (sitting on the potty peeing)

Shannon:  Great job, Liam!

Liam:  (opens up his arms for a hug and a kiss)

Shannon:  (gives Liam a big hug and a kiss — it should be noted that the only kind of kiss in which Liam is inclined to take part is one that is straight on the kisser)

Matt:  Did you pee on the potty?

Liam:  I peed on the potty!

Matt:  Great job, Buddy!

Liam:  (opens his arms for a hug and a kiss)

Matt:  (gives Liam a big hug and a kiss — right on the kisser)

Liam:  Chocolate?

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I always thought that my mom was nuts for eating chocolate inside our pantry when we were little.  I can now clearly see myself doing the same as soon as I can fit in there again…