Number of plastic tom-cat traps set: 6
Number of sticky traps: 3
Number of Mr. BoJangles caught: 0
I SHAKE MY FIST AT YOU MR. BOJANGLES!!!!
6 days ago
Showing posts with label Mr. BoJangles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mr. BoJangles. Show all posts
Monday, June 2, 2008
Weekend Warrior
Operation Mr. BoJangles is still in full effect. Friday, when I got home from an impromptu dinner, I ended up crashing extremely early due to massive exhaustion and high stress levels. It was much needed sleep, and I was so happy I didn't fight going to sleep so early.
Saturday morning I was woken up by little man rummaging through some of the toiletries pulled from my BoJangles Dropping filled linen cabinet. When I discovered him, he looked at me and said "Potty Mama." I humored him, and set him on the pot. We haven't started to tackle the potty training completely, but I'm not going to deny him a sit on the pot. I wasn't really paying attention to him, when all of the sudden I heard a trickle....HE ACTUALLY WENT POTTY IN THE TOILET! I was besides myself, shedding a few tears of joy. He had the biggest grin on his face and was also very happy. Although it was only 7am, I couldn't wait to have little man personally tell grandma and grandpa. He did so. Grandma answered the phone still drunk...but said congrats and proceeded to pass back out. Grandpa also said congrats, but the conversation was cut a bit short. While I was translating little mans words for Grandpa, little man was running around the apartment naked. He really loves to be naked, and I didn't have the energy to chase him down. He started on a full-out sprint down the hallway towards me, when PLOP! Mid-spring a giant BoJangles shaped turd flew out of his little bum and landed on the carpet. It was the funniest thing I have ever seen. I never knew you could poo like that mid stride!!
++++++++++++++++
On the BoJangles Front: After the potty miracle, I decided to take little man shopping. We purchased new clothes for both of us, a new bay-bume (vacuum) for the droppings, and most importantly, Big Boy Unders and Pull-Ups. I know it's a bit preemptive for the BBU's, but I just couldn't resist. These tiny unders are absolutely adorable! I'm hoping they are all he's using by the end of summer...Keep your fingers crossed for us!!!
I started doing a major cleaning in the afternoon. The only reason why I stopped was so I could attend a fun girls night out, which I will tell you about later.
Cleaning was disgusting. Mark came over and helped. Honestly, he was my savior of the weekend. He would not allow me to pay him, even if I offered...nor would he accept any sort of gift from me. I truly hope what goes around comes around for him..because he definitely deserves to be canonized after all of his help this past weekend.
Sunday I woke up a bit tired. By 11 I was in full cleaning mode. I was so overwhelmed with the droppings that I allowed myself to take a short nap. After re-charging my batteries I was good to go. I separated laundry, started laundry, and continued cleaning out and organizing my closets. I am pretty sure I cleaned about 100+ square feet of closet space over the weekend. I was feeling pretty good about life on Sunday, until early afternoon. Little man and I were sitting down to a late lunch, when I noticed something on top of my refrigerator.....You guessed it, Mr. BoJangles had left more treats for me. That was my breaking moment. I couldn't contemplate having enough strength or motivation to get through, so I broke down. I started crying very hard, and unfortunately, little man saw every tear drop. I felt even worse for crying in front of him, but once I opened up the flood gates, there was no going back. He looked at me with a concerning brow and said "mama cry?..mama crabby?" I told him I was frustrated with life..there's no sense lying to him right? I told him I was also frustrated with Grandma and Grandpa. He started playing with his food, and I snapped at him...not one of my proudest moments, I'll admit. He looked at me, and stuck his bottom lip out a mile...then he dramatically threw his head down on the table into his arms. Very dramatic, and very cute at the same time. I felt absolutely.horrible. I quickly reassured him that mommy wasn't mad. He shouted from his arms "No!" Then I calmed the fires by telling him mommy was frustrated with Grandma, and Grandpa..but that I loved him (little-man) sooo much. The second miracle of the weekend occurred, because he somehow managed to understand me. I felt my heart start to beat again, and made a panicked phone call to Mark. When he heard how upset I was, he came over without hesitating. He stayed for about eight hours, helping me go through the rest of my belongings. He was a key component to abolishing Mr. BoJangles. Hopefully, the traps I purchased over the weekend will also help me with this matter.
I am almost entirely convinced these unwanted tenants came to my apartment via the generous couches I received from a friend....but it really doesn't matter WHERE they came from..just as long as I can keep them out for good! I don't think I have ever been more organized in my life. I have almost all of my belongings in a plastic container of some sort. I threw away about six large garbage bags of belongings that were weighing me down. As Mark put it before he left last night "Well, we definitely left our carbon footprint this weekend!"
Saturday morning I was woken up by little man rummaging through some of the toiletries pulled from my BoJangles Dropping filled linen cabinet. When I discovered him, he looked at me and said "Potty Mama." I humored him, and set him on the pot. We haven't started to tackle the potty training completely, but I'm not going to deny him a sit on the pot. I wasn't really paying attention to him, when all of the sudden I heard a trickle....HE ACTUALLY WENT POTTY IN THE TOILET! I was besides myself, shedding a few tears of joy. He had the biggest grin on his face and was also very happy. Although it was only 7am, I couldn't wait to have little man personally tell grandma and grandpa. He did so. Grandma answered the phone still drunk...but said congrats and proceeded to pass back out. Grandpa also said congrats, but the conversation was cut a bit short. While I was translating little mans words for Grandpa, little man was running around the apartment naked. He really loves to be naked, and I didn't have the energy to chase him down. He started on a full-out sprint down the hallway towards me, when PLOP! Mid-spring a giant BoJangles shaped turd flew out of his little bum and landed on the carpet. It was the funniest thing I have ever seen. I never knew you could poo like that mid stride!!
++++++++++++++++
On the BoJangles Front: After the potty miracle, I decided to take little man shopping. We purchased new clothes for both of us, a new bay-bume (vacuum) for the droppings, and most importantly, Big Boy Unders and Pull-Ups. I know it's a bit preemptive for the BBU's, but I just couldn't resist. These tiny unders are absolutely adorable! I'm hoping they are all he's using by the end of summer...Keep your fingers crossed for us!!!
I started doing a major cleaning in the afternoon. The only reason why I stopped was so I could attend a fun girls night out, which I will tell you about later.
Cleaning was disgusting. Mark came over and helped. Honestly, he was my savior of the weekend. He would not allow me to pay him, even if I offered...nor would he accept any sort of gift from me. I truly hope what goes around comes around for him..because he definitely deserves to be canonized after all of his help this past weekend.
Sunday I woke up a bit tired. By 11 I was in full cleaning mode. I was so overwhelmed with the droppings that I allowed myself to take a short nap. After re-charging my batteries I was good to go. I separated laundry, started laundry, and continued cleaning out and organizing my closets. I am pretty sure I cleaned about 100+ square feet of closet space over the weekend. I was feeling pretty good about life on Sunday, until early afternoon. Little man and I were sitting down to a late lunch, when I noticed something on top of my refrigerator.....You guessed it, Mr. BoJangles had left more treats for me. That was my breaking moment. I couldn't contemplate having enough strength or motivation to get through, so I broke down. I started crying very hard, and unfortunately, little man saw every tear drop. I felt even worse for crying in front of him, but once I opened up the flood gates, there was no going back. He looked at me with a concerning brow and said "mama cry?..mama crabby?" I told him I was frustrated with life..there's no sense lying to him right? I told him I was also frustrated with Grandma and Grandpa. He started playing with his food, and I snapped at him...not one of my proudest moments, I'll admit. He looked at me, and stuck his bottom lip out a mile...then he dramatically threw his head down on the table into his arms. Very dramatic, and very cute at the same time. I felt absolutely.horrible. I quickly reassured him that mommy wasn't mad. He shouted from his arms "No!" Then I calmed the fires by telling him mommy was frustrated with Grandma, and Grandpa..but that I loved him (little-man) sooo much. The second miracle of the weekend occurred, because he somehow managed to understand me. I felt my heart start to beat again, and made a panicked phone call to Mark. When he heard how upset I was, he came over without hesitating. He stayed for about eight hours, helping me go through the rest of my belongings. He was a key component to abolishing Mr. BoJangles. Hopefully, the traps I purchased over the weekend will also help me with this matter.
I am almost entirely convinced these unwanted tenants came to my apartment via the generous couches I received from a friend....but it really doesn't matter WHERE they came from..just as long as I can keep them out for good! I don't think I have ever been more organized in my life. I have almost all of my belongings in a plastic container of some sort. I threw away about six large garbage bags of belongings that were weighing me down. As Mark put it before he left last night "Well, we definitely left our carbon footprint this weekend!"
Friday, May 30, 2008
The Return of Mr. BoJangles.
I am the poster child for someone who should probably be medicated...either that or I just have extremely bad karma. I haven't decided yet.
Alone. That one word means so much to me right now. I feel alone. I fear alone. I see people on the streets alone, and wonder if that will be me in fifteen, twenty or forty years. I wonder if I will have someone to come home to, someone to cook for, someone to hug me, or someone to sit around and say nothing with.
Last night I was faced with an issue I thought I had dealt with. Mr. BoJangles reared his ugly face via my horrible discovery of his feces on my linen shelf (which sits four feet off of the ground), on my high hallway closets, the floors of both closets, the floor of MY closet, the shelf of MY closet....You get the picture. I'm convinced that my SECOND STORY apartment is infested. The odd thing about this whole ordeal is there are no signs of Mr. BoJangles in the kitchen.
For those of you that personally know me, you know I'm not a neat freak...To my defense, I don't leave food around my house, more particularly in my closets.
Dealing with something like this is such a damn headache. Especially when you are alone in the matter. I stayed up until almost 2am de-cluttering my floors and clearing out areas of my closets.
Did I mention that I have had traps laid out since the last time Mr. BoJangles showed himself to me? Peanut butter baited traps. Talk about a sneaky asshole of a mouse. The least he could do was get himself trapped BEFORE shatting all over my closets, sheets, shoes, carpeting and life.
Instead of freaking out and leaning on someone (aka, the guy downstairs), I decided I could handle myself. I prepared myself for just about every dropping that was flung my way. I looked in boxes and behind boxes without shaking or fear. But damn, what I wouldn't have given for my (non-existent) husband to be by my side.
I have been told since the day I found out I was preggo with little man that I should just ask if I needed help. I think people just say that to make themselves feel better about life. I have made attempts to ask people for help, and, if I can get them to actually answer my phone call, they usually politely decline my request. This morning, I attempted to reach out to my mother. Her response to me telling her that I couldn't conquer the enormous task of defeating Mr. BoJangles alone, while watching a 2yo, was saying "You need to buck up!" All I wanted to shout at her was "FUCK YOU!" but I refrained. I did, however, snap back at her saying that I wasn't telling her this to receive tough love from her. Tough love is and was the last thing I needed at this particular moment in my life. I needed a someone I could lean on. I needed my mom. Instead, I must have accidentally dialed the number of the lady who thinks it's too difficult to dog sit a 10 month old puppy AND hang out with her grandson who happens to LOVE dogs at the same time, and makes it a weekly habit of getting drunk to the point of slurring and blacking out on a weekly basis. (wow...I'm on a roll right now!)
I also have notified the lovely management company of my apartment. I was trying to maintain a certain level of sanity while leaving them a voicemail this morning, and in doing so, forgot to leave a return phone number. Since I knew I wouldn't be able to count on them to look my number up in their database, I made a follow up all around the lunch hour. The lady I spoke with was ridiculous. I almost feel like she was attempting to blame ME for the fact that my apartment building was infested with Mr. BoJangles. That didn't bode well with me, but I managed to bite my tongue while silently telling myself "what goes around comes around you nasty whore." When I asked her if I would get reimbursed for picking up traps of my own, she acted like I had just asked her to solve a nuclear physicist equation. She then reiterated that the on site maintenance dude would be in my apartment and would be setting more traps....I swear, if he puts more of the stupid traps that DID NOT WORK in my apartment so help me god my head might just explode.
My emotions came to a roaring head at about 8:45 this morning. I had been sitting at work trying to plot out my next move in this situation, and then came the tears. My soul really really really wanted to start ugly crying. It was begging me to release all of my nasty frustrations...but I just couldn't do it. Instead of the full on ugly cry, about a dozen or so tears streamed down my face. Nobody knew it happened, except for me, now you, and the paper towel I used in a horrible attempt to prevent myself from looking like a raccoon. (Note to self: if I ever start ugly crying in public again, make way to a bathroom to double check I don't have mascara around my ENTIRE EYE...thanks!)
So much for a nice weekend. So much for a girls night out. So much for sleep. So much for keeping makeup on my face in an orderly fashion. Kiss my ass Mr. BoJangles.
Alone. That one word means so much to me right now. I feel alone. I fear alone. I see people on the streets alone, and wonder if that will be me in fifteen, twenty or forty years. I wonder if I will have someone to come home to, someone to cook for, someone to hug me, or someone to sit around and say nothing with.
Last night I was faced with an issue I thought I had dealt with. Mr. BoJangles reared his ugly face via my horrible discovery of his feces on my linen shelf (which sits four feet off of the ground), on my high hallway closets, the floors of both closets, the floor of MY closet, the shelf of MY closet....You get the picture. I'm convinced that my SECOND STORY apartment is infested. The odd thing about this whole ordeal is there are no signs of Mr. BoJangles in the kitchen.
For those of you that personally know me, you know I'm not a neat freak...To my defense, I don't leave food around my house, more particularly in my closets.
Dealing with something like this is such a damn headache. Especially when you are alone in the matter. I stayed up until almost 2am de-cluttering my floors and clearing out areas of my closets.
Did I mention that I have had traps laid out since the last time Mr. BoJangles showed himself to me? Peanut butter baited traps. Talk about a sneaky asshole of a mouse. The least he could do was get himself trapped BEFORE shatting all over my closets, sheets, shoes, carpeting and life.
Instead of freaking out and leaning on someone (aka, the guy downstairs), I decided I could handle myself. I prepared myself for just about every dropping that was flung my way. I looked in boxes and behind boxes without shaking or fear. But damn, what I wouldn't have given for my (non-existent) husband to be by my side.
I have been told since the day I found out I was preggo with little man that I should just ask if I needed help. I think people just say that to make themselves feel better about life. I have made attempts to ask people for help, and, if I can get them to actually answer my phone call, they usually politely decline my request. This morning, I attempted to reach out to my mother. Her response to me telling her that I couldn't conquer the enormous task of defeating Mr. BoJangles alone, while watching a 2yo, was saying "You need to buck up!" All I wanted to shout at her was "FUCK YOU!" but I refrained. I did, however, snap back at her saying that I wasn't telling her this to receive tough love from her. Tough love is and was the last thing I needed at this particular moment in my life. I needed a someone I could lean on. I needed my mom. Instead, I must have accidentally dialed the number of the lady who thinks it's too difficult to dog sit a 10 month old puppy AND hang out with her grandson who happens to LOVE dogs at the same time, and makes it a weekly habit of getting drunk to the point of slurring and blacking out on a weekly basis. (wow...I'm on a roll right now!)
I also have notified the lovely management company of my apartment. I was trying to maintain a certain level of sanity while leaving them a voicemail this morning, and in doing so, forgot to leave a return phone number. Since I knew I wouldn't be able to count on them to look my number up in their database, I made a follow up all around the lunch hour. The lady I spoke with was ridiculous. I almost feel like she was attempting to blame ME for the fact that my apartment building was infested with Mr. BoJangles. That didn't bode well with me, but I managed to bite my tongue while silently telling myself "what goes around comes around you nasty whore." When I asked her if I would get reimbursed for picking up traps of my own, she acted like I had just asked her to solve a nuclear physicist equation. She then reiterated that the on site maintenance dude would be in my apartment and would be setting more traps....I swear, if he puts more of the stupid traps that DID NOT WORK in my apartment so help me god my head might just explode.
My emotions came to a roaring head at about 8:45 this morning. I had been sitting at work trying to plot out my next move in this situation, and then came the tears. My soul really really really wanted to start ugly crying. It was begging me to release all of my nasty frustrations...but I just couldn't do it. Instead of the full on ugly cry, about a dozen or so tears streamed down my face. Nobody knew it happened, except for me, now you, and the paper towel I used in a horrible attempt to prevent myself from looking like a raccoon. (Note to self: if I ever start ugly crying in public again, make way to a bathroom to double check I don't have mascara around my ENTIRE EYE...thanks!)
So much for a nice weekend. So much for a girls night out. So much for sleep. So much for keeping makeup on my face in an orderly fashion. Kiss my ass Mr. BoJangles.
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