This is another one of my long winded posts about nothing, so consider yourself warned. It’s a cold, wet, dreary Sunday afternoon here in my corner of Ontario and the damp weather always makes my adhesions act up. Thankfully, a hot bath and an even hotter hot chocolate are waiting for me just as soon as I can get the little brats into bed.

Which is still several hours away. Oh dear. And I need to watch the Amazing Race. Priorities, right?

Before I go any further and you start scrolling down out of boredom and politeness, I need to ask all of you a favour. I need your help, dudes.

Those of you who know me, know that I hate mice. For those of you who don’t really know me…well, now you know. I hate mice. A lot. It is a completely irrational fear, I know and it’s silly at that, too. But I can’t help it. Mice terrify me and disgust me all at the same time. I should re-phrase that. I’m not one of those people who would go crazy if I saw a mouse in a cage or on TV or something or even if someone was holding a mouse in their hands and showed me. I just hate them in my house. I think it’s because I think of them as being dirty and sneaky. And their tails. God, I hate their tails.

Anyway! I hate mice. We’ve established that.

I have traps set around my house and in my breezeway and garage. I am very clean. I take out my garbage and compost every night. I even freeze my compost in my otherwise unused deep freezer until compost pick up day. I am a crumb and food nazi and scour the house every evening, checking to be sure there isn’t a chunk of something-or-other laying around, waiting for a feast from a mouse.

So…why do they like me so much? And exactly are they finding to eat?!

I heard one last night. I’m half deaf and I * still * heard it! It sounded like it crawled out from under the cupboard and ran out to find itself a treasure before re-treating back into it’s hole. I laid there in bed, my heart pounding and praying to God, “I’m sorry I said I hated Troy. Please, please, please God…please send Troy back to get the mouse.” I even called him. I’m not proud of that. But I was desperate! So I called him but like usual, he didn’t answer (begging the un-related question…what if something bad had happened to the kids? That dude is just about the hardest person ever to reach).

So…that’s where I need your help. I’m looking for suggestions here, folks. How can I keep mice out of my house?

And by the way…this morning ALL of the traps were empty. Hm. I guess it did find something tasty to eat and didn’t need my peanut butter. All the more reason I need suggestions on keeping them OUT.

And speaking of things that freak me out…earlier this afternoon, I was cruising through mybloggers, catching up on all of the blogs and making my ever-witty comments (ha) before finally checking my own blog out and answering some comments. Julian strolled into the room and came over to the computer desk. He stared at the monitor for a few minutes before asking, “Why are you writing about me?”

Um, yeah. I stared at him for a few moments in terror, prompting him to ask me again, “I said! Why are you writing about me?”

I still said nothing, knowing that would only incur his wrath more so, trying to think of a good answer when he said, “And why are you writing about Dr. Hameed?”

So, um, yeah. I’m scared. It was freaky enough when the kid started doing jigsaw puzzles on his own without looking at the picture on the box but this…

On another Julian-related note…I’m not sure if I mentioned on my blog that we have applied for ACSD (Assistance for Children with Severe Disabilities) funding. It has been a long, long time coming but I will save the whys and hows for another blog post another time. In any case, I filled out the application with the help of Christine, Julian’s newest worker (she is a case coordinator through Family and Children’s Services) and Mary, Julian’s oldest worker (she is an infant development worker also through Family and Children Services and has been working with Julian and I literally since he came home from the hospital in April of 2007) and they sent it in, along with an application for a grant from Easter Seals to help cover the cost of the diapers that Julian still wears.

I received a letter from ACSD telling me that my application had been received and according to Christine, that means it looks good. It will be at least another four to six weeks before we receive any funding but to be honest, I just can’t stop smiling long enough to care. This funding will be used only for Julian (obviously) and we will receive money for things like special clothing, transportation and lodging costs for out of town doctor’s appointments and, drum roll, please….respite care.

Let me say that again…we will receive money for respite care. Now it’s my turn to ask if I can get a YAY? We applied for up to six hours of respite care a week, to start, and when it comes through I will have a few options available to Julian and I. I can hire someone I know…I can send him to a nursery school…or I can choose and interview and hire someone from a case file of workers, specifically someone who will not just sit with Julian but who will work with him to help his development along, social skills, etc. Mary even said that she would be happy to do a home visit to help train a respite care worker. How awesome is that?!

Obviously I have been day dreaming about all of the ways I could use my six hours of freedom. I’m not sure I would know what to do with myself, to be honest with you (and I’m saving how weird I feel about letting someone else work with Julian for another long winded blog post. Ha) but I do believe that because of the breaks from him I get when he goes to his Dad’s, the novelty will soon wear off. Even I can only shop and drink coffee and read for so long.

So I’ve been thinking about volunteering. I’ve been playing with the idea in my mind for a little while now and I’ve seriously started to consider it. If I can co-ordinate the respite care schedule, then I would be able to commit to one day a week, to start. I think it would be good for me to get out of the house and interact with other people again, feel useful in some other context. I haven’t worked outside of the home for a couple years now (ever since Troy left and Julian started hardcore) and my how I have missed it! I’m still not able to work outside of the home, for obvious reasons (this is temporary…I tell myself every day…this is temporary) so I thought that volunteering might fill the gap.

I’ve thought about volunteering at my daughter’s school…more specifically, the library since the Ontario government long ago cut a librarian from the budget and they rely on parents to fill the gap and most parents who do volunteer aren’t interested in doing it in the library. Forgive my political incorrectness, but those moms are glory hogs who volunteer, for the most part, to be noticed. You know the type I mean…the bitches who are there to make a show but would never get down on the floor with the kids. The kinds of moms who don’t even LOOK at my kids and I when we’re all waiting for them to get out.

Okay…I can feel a full fledged rant coming on so I’m going to calm down and post this before I take someone out.

Happy Sunday everyone!