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Yesterday Avocado stayed home from camp because she had a splitting earache, caused by congestion. Decongestants, moist heat, and she was well enough to go to the Giants' opening night game with us. The Giants lost respectably (4 to 2, to the Milwaukee Brewers) and then there were fireworks, and we got home at about 10:50, to a dog who was very eager to see us, and to be walked. Then the fun began. Avocado got a text from one of her counselor buddies, saying that she was responsible for bringing "Wood Fairy Gifts"* for each of her unit kids, tomorrow. Which means today. By this time the kid was really tired and, as she'd been out of sorts earlier, and spent the evening in the breezes off McCovey Cove, I made an executive decision: she would go to bed, I would cobble together some sort of home-made Wood Fairy Gift, and we would all go on with our lives from there.
I was up until 3, making eighteen paperdolls, each with a silly outfit and hairdo made of various kinds of wrapping paper, paper ribbon, wrapping bows, etc. It was fun, but, as usual when I do something like this, I spent too much time on it. So I reel in to bed at 3am and, as often happens under these circs., I didn't sleep so much as doze. And then at about 4:30 I hear the noise that means I've gotten a text message. At 4:30 in the morning? I ignore it. Until I get another. Then I become aware that Avocado is talking--no, shouting--very loudly. Spouse goes in to investigate: the second mouse (the one who found a forgotten cache of candy canes left over from Christmas in our closet, and thereby occasioned the spasm of cleaning on Saturday) has been in A's room where it's been raising a hell of a racket. The girl has talked herself into a frenzy of anxiety, less the teeny mouse somehow levitate into the air, target her, and give her a rabies-laden bite. Perhaps because of my upbringing, mice don't scare me particularly. I try to calm her down. Not happening. So finally, I get into bed with her and cuddle her, hoping all the noise will have scared the mouse away.
No such luck. Around 5 am I hear hell's own racket coming from under A's desk. Even Emily, who had been ignoring the problem, goes on hunting alert, tail straight and still, ears back, nose pointed like a radar gun at the area under the desk. I turn on the light, find an empty jelly bean wrapper on the floor, assume that's the problem, throw it away. And then Spouse wanders in and decides to spelunk under A's desk, where he finds wax from a Baby Bel cheese, another candy wrapper, and...sigh...two half-gnawed candy canes. Damn Christmas anyway. He throws these away. Avocado is still in a pother, so I stay with her. Finally she sleeps. I doze a little, but sleeping in a twin bed with one full-size daughter and one 45 pound hound is a tricksy thing at best.
At 7 am I rise and make her breakfast and her bring-along lunch. Also box up the paper dolls, which A inspected and pronounced Perfect (it's a wise child who knows her lines, I'll tell ya). I do as much of the Times crossword as my soggy brain can handle, and wait until Avocado's ride comes. And now, having checked my email and posted this, I am going to return to my bed and see if exhaustion can overrule my usual disinclination for daytime sleeping.
Tonight the traps go out again.
ETA: Sleep was mine! I feel, if not as fresh as a Daisy, far more functional.
I was up until 3, making eighteen paperdolls, each with a silly outfit and hairdo made of various kinds of wrapping paper, paper ribbon, wrapping bows, etc. It was fun, but, as usual when I do something like this, I spent too much time on it. So I reel in to bed at 3am and, as often happens under these circs., I didn't sleep so much as doze. And then at about 4:30 I hear the noise that means I've gotten a text message. At 4:30 in the morning? I ignore it. Until I get another. Then I become aware that Avocado is talking--no, shouting--very loudly. Spouse goes in to investigate: the second mouse (the one who found a forgotten cache of candy canes left over from Christmas in our closet, and thereby occasioned the spasm of cleaning on Saturday) has been in A's room where it's been raising a hell of a racket. The girl has talked herself into a frenzy of anxiety, less the teeny mouse somehow levitate into the air, target her, and give her a rabies-laden bite. Perhaps because of my upbringing, mice don't scare me particularly. I try to calm her down. Not happening. So finally, I get into bed with her and cuddle her, hoping all the noise will have scared the mouse away.
No such luck. Around 5 am I hear hell's own racket coming from under A's desk. Even Emily, who had been ignoring the problem, goes on hunting alert, tail straight and still, ears back, nose pointed like a radar gun at the area under the desk. I turn on the light, find an empty jelly bean wrapper on the floor, assume that's the problem, throw it away. And then Spouse wanders in and decides to spelunk under A's desk, where he finds wax from a Baby Bel cheese, another candy wrapper, and...sigh...two half-gnawed candy canes. Damn Christmas anyway. He throws these away. Avocado is still in a pother, so I stay with her. Finally she sleeps. I doze a little, but sleeping in a twin bed with one full-size daughter and one 45 pound hound is a tricksy thing at best.
At 7 am I rise and make her breakfast and her bring-along lunch. Also box up the paper dolls, which A inspected and pronounced Perfect (it's a wise child who knows her lines, I'll tell ya). I do as much of the Times crossword as my soggy brain can handle, and wait until Avocado's ride comes. And now, having checked my email and posted this, I am going to return to my bed and see if exhaustion can overrule my usual disinclination for daytime sleeping.
Tonight the traps go out again.
ETA: Sleep was mine! I feel, if not as fresh as a Daisy, far more functional.