Fleas and Mice

Monday was a test of some kind.

Upon waking at 6 to roust elder daughter out of bed, I found several tiny, itchy bites in a line on my abdomen. With a sinking feeling, I identified the red bumps as fleabites. I wish I could say I hadn't experienced this plague before but I well know the telltale signs. That learning curve occurred 15 years ago in my first apartment on the West Coast where the previous tenants had had cats and lots and lots of fleas. The place was literally hopping with them. Much fun was not had, but I eventually got rid of them.

I hoped I would never again have to deal with the little blood-sucking monsters.

I am in love with my dog. I mean, I frequently find myself using that high pitched idiot voice that I have in the past despised in others, mistakenly assuming the individual in question was clearly witless: being that ridiculous around his or her dog?? But I do it; I coo at him and play with him and cuddle him and this is a 50 pound pooch with long claws.

Now Pooch has fleas and, unfortunately, shared them with his family. This means war of the most dedicated kind because I won't use those toxic bombs - they are more toxic to the people than they are to the increasingly chemical-resistant fleas. So, this means treating Pooch with strong-smelling herbal flea killing stuff, washing EVERYTHING that he may have come in contact with in the last 2 weeks, vacuuming every day and making sure there is nothing on the floor anywhere. Then I must repeat all previous steps often for the foreseeable future: flea eggs can last a long time. I must bag everything and quarantine things for weeks. Then, only when I have seen no signs of fleas for three weeks can I relax. Truly maddening, eh?

As I thought about all I would have to do when I got home, I got ready to take my fabulous four-month-old hybrid car into Local Dealership to find out why the engine light kept coming on. I figured some sensor was loose and that it would be a minor issue. So it was to my complete and utter shock when Mr. Mechanic came to get me from the waiting room where I had been perusing issues of Good Housekeeping and told me that a MOUSE had been nesting in my car and that it would take at least five hours of exploration (at 90 bucks an hour) before they would even know what damage the little miscreant had caused. I was incredulous. They had to be kidding, right? This was clearly an elaborate joke.

Nope on all counts. Although infrequent, it happens often enough, particularly at this Fall kind of time of year when the little buggers go looking for some shelter. It was with sheer force of will that I resisted flinging myself to the floor and howling "It's not fair!!" As if, I have said to my children, THAT will do any good! So, if you can, park your cars inside during this season. And watch out for mice. And fleas.

I have to go vacuum.

The New Year

5767 to be exact. This year, as in others, my family of four and I (Darling Husband (DH) and our two glorious daughters, 11.5 and 9) gathered to consider the year we have had and what we want to let go of or get over in the year to come. These symbolic castoffs can be guilt or remorse over thoughtless or hurtful words or deeds, unwanted psychological baggage, or some personal issues we are working on. We inscribe our thoughts on small bits of paper and then we burn them. Sometimes, we take a moment to say something about what we are discarding, but it is not a requirement.

My eldest daughter had something to say as she cast one of her burdens away.

"No more taking my anger and frustration out on people who don't deserve them," she said. "I want to learn to control my anger."

Then our youngest picked up one of her papers and said, "I have to be much more careful with sister's things - no more breaking her stuff."

What followed was one of those moments of absolute certainty, of knowing that our children possessed tools of self-awareness they actually used. We just about split open with pride.

Rosh Hashanah is about taking stock, figuring out what is working, what is not and what we need to do to correct any problems we are carrying around needlessly. I find it a wonderful time of reflection on what I am grateful for and what I need to do to reach my personal goals. It is invigorating, exhausting and although the process can be painful, it is ultimately cleansing.

Happy New Year

It's about bloody time. After longer than I care to admit hiding on my couch reading books I have practically memorized or watching old episodes of Buffy, I have ventured out and found employment in my chosen field. I am now a bona fide employed English Teacher and I am so excited but really clear that I have a number of significant surpises in store for me; I don't really know what to expect from community college students so I am keeping an open mind, an easy spirit and my sense of humor, all of which I expect to be vital tools in the classroom tomorrow. I am so fortunate to have my good friend Mrs. Chili, also a grad of State U in Ed, teaching the same thing as I will be, so we can venture forth together. It is a brave new world and cliches aside, I am ready. Bring it on!