So, yesterday was a typical lazy Sunday. Everyone slept in, ate breakfast late, kinda lazed around all day. It was unusually quiet until I heard a blood curdling scream by my son, followed by "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god". Now anyone who has kids can attest to the fact that probably 95% of the time, it's never an actual emergency when they say it is, so I took my time getting to the kitchen where the noise was coming from. As I'm walking there, I hear my son say the word "mouse" followed by the words "it doesn't have a face" while he's gagging...and I start to panic. The dining room lights were off and the curtain in the kitchen was closed, so the only light getting to that area was coming from the living room. In the semi-darkness I see what appears to be a mutilated, not "mouse" but rather a RAT. But not just any rat....the biggest, freakin' rat I've ever seen, sans head and bloodied, with whatever is in the neck showing. Remember how I said it wasn't an actual emergency? Well now it is. Because I don't do dead animals.....especially not headless dead animals. I leave the lights off 'cause I don't care to see what it really looks like in its full glory and I immediately start to wonder what to do. In the span of a few seconds, I wonder how it got in, decide it must have been brought in by the cat that had come in through an open window not too long before that, figure that it is that time of year and we do live near a huge open field so it's not too surprising that mice and rats could be out there, wonder why the hell the cat had to bring it in here, and start to run through a list of people that I could call to come pick it up for me because there's no way in hell I'm about to do it. Yes, I'm a chicken. I grab a plastic bag to cover it because I don't want to look at it and I shoo the cat away who is still trying to get to it. As I'm covering it, while I'm still trying to figure out what to do (I was really trying to psych myself into picking it up) my eyes wander to it again and I think "damn, that is really the biggest rat I've ever seen". So I cover it and I start to gauge which one of my children is most likely to be bribed at that moment and I start running through things in my head that I can bribe them with to pick it up. Eventually I ask my son if he'll pick it up and take it out for $5. He says yes----SCORE! Personally if I were him, I wouldn't have done it for less than $10, but I'm not complaining. He picks it up, takes it outside, thus ends the excitement for the day............or so I think.
Later on in the evening, things are quiet, clothes are being washed and dried because Sunday is laundry day, everyone's fed and happy, life is good. I start to walk out to the kitchen and almost trip over the cat. Remember the cat I wrote about a few weeks ago? The one who put her kittens in my couch? Yeah, that one. Cat looks up at me and licks her lips and I realize she's eating something. I move her out of the way thinking maybe she pulled something out of the trash, but to my horror I realize it's nothing from the trash and what's worse is that it's not a mouse or a rat, because at this point a mouse or a rat would be a welcome sight. There, right in front of me, is a dead white kitten with a hole in its neck. The cat was eating her own kitten. I try to shoo her away and she starts to growl at me but eventually I just pick her up and throw her outside and ponder how I'm going to get this thing out because that's even worse than the rat and if I wouldn't pick up the rat, I sure as hell am not picking up a dead kitten. I ask my son again because I'm that big of a chicken (and probably at this point a bad mom...lol) and he takes care of it. Thank god. Then my mind wanders back to earlier in the day and the phrase "that is the biggest rat I've ever seen" enters my mind........and I realize that probably wasn't a rat. I check on where she's been keeping her kittens and my fears were confirmed......it was another one of her kittens . She only had one left at this point and I will just confirm that, yes, that one is a goner too. I found her munching on it earlier this afternoon after she looked up at me, licked her lips and gave me this look, as if to say "what's your problem?" when I started yelling at her about how gross she is. Well, that's the end of the cats she originally brought in a few weeks back, so I guess I don't have to worry about taking them to pound. I suppose I should thank her for making my job easier but I would have preferred a less disgusting way.
That was her first litter and I've only seen that happen one other time years ago, with another cat who had her first litter. The vet told me that sometimes there is something wrong with the babies, the mom knows it and kills them. Sometimes the babies die on their own and the moms eat them because in the wild they get nutrition back that they lost during childbirth. And sometimes their instinct to chase small, furry things doesn't shut off, so they treat them like they're mice and kill them. Either way, it's disgusting and that cat is NEVER coming in my house again. She can stay outside to kill and mutilate whatever the hell she wants....but outside, so I can stop losing $5 to my son.
According to what I've read, I should be able to do many new things today. The base of my skull was tingling and I was suddenly hyper-aware of all that was going on around me. I felt as if there were some sort of imminent danger, so carefully I searched my surroundings but all I saw was a small kitten looking for its mother. I attempted to lift and catch incredibly heavy objects such as a bus that fell off an overpass but alas, the people in the bus were none to happy when I dropped it...well, those that were still conscious weren't. I also tried to protect small, unsuspecting children who were walking underneath some major construction work. When the crane fell, I tried to catch it but alas, the children were crushed anyway. Sorry kids. I picked a fight with a 6'5, 300lb man named Tiny because I wanted to feel what it was like to be deadly in hand-to-hand combat but I walked away with a broken and bloody nose, not to mention 2 black eyes. After that failure, I asked my brother who owns a gun to shoot at me so I could test out my unmatched reflex skills. Unfortunately, I did not dodge that bullet. Even though that was quite unsuccessful in my previous endeavors, I attempted to walk up a wall and when that too failed, I decided to to take a trip to New York City to take a stab at swinging between large buildings, more specifically --skyscrapers. As you can guess by now, that didn't work out so well either. Confused and downhearted, I took a crack at shooting web-like material out of my wrists but again, no luck. As I wandered around aimlessly and perplexed at my lack of skills, I suddenly realized that the spider that bit me yesterday probably only wanted to crawl up my shirt to cop a feel. Fucking spider.
Good lord, I haven't heard this in ages. Good times man.......I was 15. God, I'm old! I also had to hide this music from my mom 'cause it was "vulgar" and "oversexed".....How can something be oversexed?? Of course, when I was 15, lyrics like "I don't wanna touch you too much baby 'cause makin' love to you might drive me crazy" were bordering on soft porn. Oddly enough, the only song of theirs I could get by her was "Pour Some Sugar On Me" because she couldn't understand the lyrics....and apparently she also didn't realize that "Pour some sugar on me" had nothing to do with cooking. And btw, Def Leppard had it right.........Love bites!
First let me say that I'm a sucker for a lot of things....animals being one of them. I have 2 dogs that I took in as puppies 'cause they were gonna go to the pound and our pound euthanizes them after 3 days, so I couldn't let that happen. And I'm happy to pretend that the other 10 puppies were adopted by similar schmucks like myself and nobody got the needle. At that time I was planning on getting a dog---a small one---but then I found out about these other dogs and I end up with two. Cute dogs, good dogs...I got lucky.
Now for the cat(s). I only claim one but I don't have the heart to shoot BB guns at them to run them off, like my other neighbors have. Me shooting anything would be pointless anyway....just ask my boys. My aim is beyond awful. As a matter of fact, this morning before the kids left for school the boys were asking me to play darts (the sticky kind) with them and they had the nerve to laugh at me when I missed. Although Devyn did try his best to be nice and said "Well, you hit the board....that's something!" I also got a "good job mom, you hit the 25". But anyway..........back to the cats.
So, I have cats that like to hang out in my backyard like Paris Hilton likes to hang out at clubs. I don't really pay too much attention to them. I don't give them names.....I kinda figure food and water is payment enough. About a week ago I realize that 3 of them have given birth and I'm starting to do the ol' "oh god what do I do now?" routine. And now I know that I seriously have to think about the pound but thankfully, I was told that there is a pound in another city that's a no-kill type of thing. Except now I'm wracked with the "what if" guilt. What if I take them there and they lied about being a no-kill shelter? What if I take them there and it's so upsetting to the mama cats that they stop feeding the babies? What if they're not cute enough and no one ever adopts them? What if, what if, what if. And truthfully, I haven't even looked at the babies 'cause I know myself and that'd be a disaster.
Cut to today.............I hear a noise outside early this morning and open the front door and in comes running another cat, who I must say never looked like she was pregnant.......if she'd been a human, she'd be one of those women you hate. You know, the kind that looks exactly the same, pregnant or not. Anyway, in she comes carrying what looks to be a mouse.....I think. And then from across the street, I hear some lady who's walking her kid to school "It looks like she's just moving them". This all happens within a matter of a few seconds and it dawns on me that said non-pregnant looking cat has just made a beeline for a notch in the back of the couch that I can't freakin' get to and she wasn't moving a mouse. There's just this one spot..........ONE SPOT that's big enough for her to get into. How the hell did she know that? And then I'm thinking "well, thank God it's only one........it had to be only one 'cause she really didn't look pregnant". I can't get to the baby and I figure I'll somehow get it later. But then she starts running to the door and I'm like "what the hell cat? Go feed your baby or something". Well, I have to open the door to get my kids to school, because unlike her, I want my kids out in the morning, not in...and she bolts. And now I'm like "Greattttttttttt..........just effing great! Leave me with your kid." But the baby was quiet and besides, I couldn't get to it....and also, I don't want to look at it 'cause I know myself too well and I'll be all "awwwwww" and start thinking up ways to keep it. So, the cat goes outside and is gone and then I'm thinking "Great, now I'm gonna have a dead kitten somewhere in my couch 'cause I can't get to it and she's not feeding it". But as with everything else, I figure I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.
I also forgot to mention that said non-pregnant cat has a habit of climbing up the wall outside my window (no clue how she does it) and makes a bunch of noise until I open the window enough for her to get in. That's a regular occurrence.....too regular. So, I'm sitting in my room and I hear another noise out front....open the door and surprise, surprise, in comes the cat with another kitten. Same scenario, heads for the couch, I can't get to it and I start worrying again. A little while later she wants out AGAIN. And I'm thinking "Geez cat, if you were human, I'd be calling Children's Services on you 'cause Mother of the Year you are not". Well, while I'm trying to have a very important conversation with someone, I look up and what do I see but that damn cat climbing up to get in my window......and yes, she's carrying something....and no, it's not a mouse. Cat comes in, heads for the couch, I start worrying....Wash, rinse, repeat.
At this point there are kittens mewing and I have no idea what to do 'cause their dumbass mother is now more interested in eating. So I leave things alone and I turn the music up on my computer really loudly, 'cause as we all know, music makes everything go away. I must admit that at this point the guilt is hitting an all-time high because even though I'm being welcomed to the Hotel California, in the back of my head I'm thinking "those kittens are gonna die.......in my couch". So I get up, I look around for some box...any box.....and head for the couch. Now I can hear them but I can't see them but from the noises I know approximately where they're at. So, me being brilliant and all, tear (cut) right above where the noise is coming from. I reach in and voila! ..a kitten. And I'm thinking "I so did not want to get this involved....and why the hell did it have to be MY couch she moves them into?" I need to start charging her rent. So, I reach in for numbers 2 and 3 and pray that there aren't anymore she's planning on bringing in. I also have to say that while she was off enjoying life and they were crying, I picked them up to move them into the box and they stop crying and get all cute on me..........ack. I go to put them down and they start crying again. Pick them up, they stop. Put them down, they start. Again, wash, rinse, repeat. And now I'm stuck. I also start to panic......What if she never feeds them? And laugh at me 'cause I totally deserve it but I also thought that I couldn't feed them myself 'cause my nipple is way too big for their mouths. Besides, I did the nursing thing with my own kids and that was more than enough for me. Soooooooooooooo...........I finally leave that general area and find that the person I was talking to is now gone and probably thinks I'm mean. But hey, I couldn't help it......there were kittens involved.
Now the kids are home and I had to go through the whole "DO NOT touch the kittens" speech and then we go through the whole "THERE ARE KITTENS???? WHERE?????"..........Me and my big mouth. And now I'm wracked with guilt again 'cause I have no idea what I'm going to do with these kittens. I don't want to get involved 'cause I know myself. I know we can't keep them and I know I'm not mean enough to just kick them out. Argh
And this ladies and gentlemen is the reason why I avoid looking homeless people in the eyes. I will always give money......even if I can't really spare it. And I will always be a sucker for animals.
Devyn: Can I get an ice cream when the ice cream man comes? I'll get you one too. I have my own money.
Me: Yeah, I just want you to come straight back home. Don't get caught up talking to Kristin. (I ignore the part about whether I want one or not 'cause I really didn't)
Devyn: Yeah, but do you want one? I'll get you one.
Me: Umm, I guess. Thanks.
Devyn: What kind do you want?
Me: Nutty Buddy
Devyn: Ok.............................................Can I borrow a dollar?
I think vanilla ice cream is pointless but chocolate is divine.
I hate dresses and dressing up. I'm a jeans and t-shirt kinda gal.
I have been in a bar maybe 3 times in my whole life.
I'm a homebody. I usually wait for movies to come out on DVD but would probably prefer going to the theater.
I once had a rat attack me. Ok, it probably wasn't "attacking" me...but it felt like it.
I have no hair color preference when it comes to guys.
I love my brother. I hate my sister. I only have one sibling.
I love amusement parks. Disneyland really is the happiest place on earth. Well, it's at least the happiest commercial place on earth, but at some point, I realize two things: A) I'm drinking bottled water. B)I'm about to pay $4-5 for a 16 oz. bottle of water. C)I'm now one of those people who not only drinks bottled water but also pays for it..........and yes, I know that was 3 things.
I love the beach but I never swim in the ocean because I'm paranoid of sharks. I may wade slightly but I promise you, I'm not getting in.
I want to do something crazy like bungee jump but I'm scared to death of heights. That's also why it makes perfect sense that I like the highest, scariest roller coaster rides available.
My idea of a perfect day is rain outside, a good book and unlimited hot chocolate, with marshmallows of course.
I hate when people don't know how to use the words "your" and "you're" properly but I say (spell) things like "wanna" and "gonna".
I enjoy talking to people but people scare me.
I don't get carsick.
I rarely get allergies.
I hate milk...unless it's in cereal. But I also pretty much hate cereal, so I rarely have either.
I rarely drink anything else but water. Except on those rare weeks where I'm craving Slurpees.
I rarely use the words "rare" and "rarely".
I hate commercials, which is why I love my Tivo.
My favorite time of day is night.
I hate the dark.
I'm not scared of darkness, it just hurts my eyes.
I've been told that I'm a completely different person in the later afternoon. That's usually a good thing.
I try to watch as many sunsets as I can. I don't have any deep reasons for that. I just like sunsets.
I hate bats.
I was hoping the bats I saw tonight would get closer so I could watch them better.
I like rain but I hate getting wet.
I only like liquid soap.
I have irrational fears like when I go in the backyard when it's dark, I'm afraid a mountain lion will attack me. There are no mountain lions in my general area....and, I'm not afraid of flying or even of being in a plane crash, but I'm terrified that one day I'll see an actual plane crash in front of me, which is why I won't go to air shows and why I avoid looking at planes that are overhead.
When all is said and done.....I'll still like the color purple.
Oh yeah, and my brother has it all wrong...I'M pretty much the whitest Mexican you'll ever run into. At least he can tan!
I try to shoo her away and she starts to growl at me but eventually I just pick her up and throw her outside and ponder how I'm going to get this thing out because that's even worse than the rat and if I wouldn't pick up the rat, I sure as hell am not picking up a dead kitten. I ask my son again because I'm that big of a chicken (and probably at this point a bad mom...lol) and he takes care of it. Thank god. Then my mind wanders back to earlier in the day and the phrase "that is the biggest rat I've ever seen" enters my mind........and I realize that probably wasn't a rat. I check on where she's been keeping her kittens and my fears were confirmed......it was another one of her kittens 
