Fleas and Roaches and a Rat, OH MY!

I'm beginning to think our house is cursed. Similar to this time last year, we have fleas in the house, and we are going to go broke spraying the house. I believe at last count we have sprayed 4 times. And again I'll defend us by saying the entire time we lived in our first house (6 years) we never had fleas in the house. And we had 2 inside cats then too. We also have roaches, which is fairly common when you live in town. And now we have found the second dead rat -- OUTSIDE, thank goodness -- in just a few months time. I have decided the crawlspace foundation is to blame for all the vermin. And other than throwing multiple packs of rat poison in there, I have no plan of action. I guess I should budget in a full time exterminator contract.

As Erica said it best, if the locust show up next, we'll know we're in for it.

Oh and I! I Will Survive!

A little Gloria Gaynor, anyone?

If I had gotten around to writing a post on Friday, it would have been something along the lines of "The Natives are Hysterical, and Not in a Good Way." Some confidential, intense work stuff coupled with being harassed about stupid stuff via IM and some other stuff that I now can't recall had me on the verge of tears and meltdown. But you know what? No tears were shed! No yelling commenced! I have reached the first challenge, and I won the immunity idol! Now if we can just eradicate the fleas, I might can keep my stuff together.

The L Word

LICE!!! More cases of lice have been found at daycare, exactly 64 days after we found it in Elliott's hair. Now hear this, if we have to deal with this in our household again, I will be calling for some medication. I have to end this post now as I'm in the fetal position, rocking and sucking my thumb, all of which make it a little difficult to type.

The Price of Bribery, I mean Bravery, is $21.86 (+ tax)

Me: Elliott, you are going to have to get an army haircut like Uncle Jeb.

Elliott: I not want to.

Me: If you will be brave and let Daddy shave your head, Mami will go to Wal-Mart tomorrow morning and buy you that Wolverine you've been wanting.

Elliott: Okay.


Oh yeah, and the price of fumigation? $61.95 for RID shampoo and house spray. Not counting new pillows, broom, etc.

A Plague Upon Our House

There is no way that I can adequately describe THE HEAD LICE PLAGUE OF 2009. But I shall try.

I returned home on Tuesday night from NOLA; Doug and Elliott picked me up, I loved on E (naturally), then we all went to La Fiesta. At bedtime, after a bath, he was scratching his head. Now, this is not unusual behavior for him because he has the equivalent of cradle cap and has to use Selsun Blue during the summers. I asked Doug if he had been consistently using the Selsun Blue (no), when Doug uttered this horrific phrase: "You know, when I was putting him in his carseat yesterday, it kinda looked like lice." [side note: YESTERDAY?!? ARE YOU F'ing KIDDING ME???] This is the moment when my week went downhill. I jumped out of bed, turned on the light, and pulled back a segment of hair. Yep, LICE.

HORROR. DISGUST. REVULSION. PANIC. MAD. INSERT ALL APPLICABLE EMOTIONS HERE.

Start frantically pacing. Can't decide who to call first: Mom or Erica. Erica wins out. Luckily, Dalton was clean. I go to Wal-Mart wearing a white t-shirt, black bra, and blue booty shorts from 1997. Pretty picture, huh? Get back with the RID, treat Elliott while Doug treats himself (remember, I've been out of town for 3 nights, I think I MIGHT be immune). After combing and combing and combing and combing some more, realize those little bastard eggs are not coming out. Call Erica back, cash in offer to come over. Now, here is an example of a great friend. She came over at 10 pm and said the hard thing: you need to shave his head. Cue look of complete incomprehension by me, followed by panic, followed nearly by tears. The unspoken interchange was "SHAVE HIS HEAD?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! SHAVE OFF HIS BEAUTIFUL, SILKY, ROCK STAR HAIR THAT EVERYONE ENVIES?!?!" But a true friend stays and calmly repeats the message over and over until the parents face reality and shave his head. But not without bribery (more to come on this).

I slept in Elliott's bed that night hoping to prevent this mass of curly hair from being infected. And I got up the next morning and went and took an Am Gov final exam. And then I searched high and low for the house spray which runs $8/tiny little can. And I spent the next 5 days in utter paranoia and panic that my sanctuary had been breached. Even our cars had to be fumigated. And yes, a handful were found upon this head. Two RID treatments down, 1 more to go. I have broken every rule of clothes washing that I have ever obeyed in my effort to eradicate these prehistoric looking little f-ers. I would not wish them on my worst enemy.

Attack of the FWEEBS!

8+ years of marriage. 8 years this month that Priss has been with us. So 8 years of having at least one, at times as many as 3, inside animal. And this is the first time we've had fleas that are in the house not contained to the animals. In the carpet. On the bed and the couch. My poor baby is covered in flea bites. I might have 2. Apparently, like mosquitoes, Elliott is the blood donor of choice. He must be delicious. His tiny, brown body is now blemished with bites. I feel like a failure as a mother, housekeeper and pet owner. We've sprayed so much Frontline on poor Priss that I'm surprised we haven't made her OD. I'm afraid she may be slightly high at all times. We are currently trying two different sprays for the house, hoping we don't have to end up bombing. But E's b'day party is NEXT WEEKEND, so the battle must be won by then.

And Holly, "I just called....to say.....funny things...."