A Mouse In The House!

Yes, a mouse in my house this morning.  A wee, wee one that my husband texted me a picture of from our bedroom while I was making our son breakfast in the kitchen.  At first he called me and the tone of his voice was so creepy that I thought he was having a stroke.  I...see...a...mouse.  Unfun.  At least the mouse has good timing-we had 30+ people (nearly half of which were under five) here for a BBQ yesterday.  Maybe buying all that cheese at Cowgirl Creamery wasn't such a great idea. Oh, but cheeeeese.  No doubt the mouse came in for that nibble of Gruyere that I found this morning wedged in our couch.  Or the smear of brownie under the chair?

My husband and I were so paranoid about what the little monkey would do if he saw the mouse.  Easy money was on chasing it everywhere with his hand karate chopping the air like he does with birds.  And would Tony try to eat it? Thankfully, we never had to find out.

When I came home this afternoon, Mr. Schneed showed me the evil looking traps he bought that promised to "kill mice dead."  Phew.  Who would want them killed alive?  I didn't want to kill it though, I just didn't want it crawling on my bed.  We decided not to put the traps out unless we saw the mouse again.  The cleaning women came today too-hence my aforementioned less than stellar cleaning job-so maybe they'd miraculously get rid of it.  Just as I was asking my husband if he told the ladies about our new friend, we heard a shriek.

The two women were standing near the stroller, pointing and giggling nervously.  Apparently, the mouse was gunning for all the cracker bits gathered at the bottom of the stroller basket.  Hmm, I guess I'm supposed to clean that out regularly?  Geniuses that we are, we wheeled the stroller outside and my husband gingerly plucked each thing from the basket, jumping about a foot each time.  I've never loved him more.  Finally, the mouse, which I swear could not have been more than two inches big, jumped out from inside a blanket and ran.  Ran right into our neighbor's garage!  We hightailed it the hell back inside.  What mouse?  I didn't see a mouse...

You know where to find me

OK folks, now that the great pukefest of '12 has subsided, it's time to get serious on ye olde blog. I have to make some major decisions. About my closet. My new walk-all-the-way-in-and-kind-of-turn-around-closet!! I mean...this should make the months of dragging my baby and our soiled undies to the laundromat a whole lot less painful. We didn't really set out to create a bigger closet, but we had some extra space due to the renovations and, voila, I am appeased. Personally, I think it's all a ploy on my husband's part to buy some more time in SF.

It's hard to imagine that once it's done I won't have to wear the same three outfits because I will actually be able see what's in my wardrobe. You don't even want to know what's going on in my current closet. While technically a barely there walk-in, there are so many clutterings and crappings all over the floor that it's more of a lean-in. If you looked at my closet I think you'd be scared for my sanity and my baby's well being. It's creepy and smelly in there. I'm not sure how it got this bad, but it's pretty much the opposite of the rest of my home. I'm a neat freak and have to constantly straighten up so that everything is just so. But, of course, I have my dark, ugly secret closet where I shove it all in and hope for the best. No wonder most of my shoes barely make it out alive after their first year inside.

Naturally, I put off the design until the absolute possible last minute and am now trying to become a quasi architect overnight so I can draw out what I want. The fact that the space is actually kind of small and we can't use all the walls makes it a little less complex, but still. I'm trying to remember how to make those three dimensional boxes that I used to think were so cool in the third grade. Here are some of my pinterest faves to inspire me. Too bad my whole bedroom would fit into these rooms.

Via

Via

Via