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Tag Archives: Jonathan Coulton

Blame It On the Toddler In the Nicest Way

There is a slogan often applied to clothing for small children that states: “I am the reason we can’t have nice things.”

Mr. Pirate and I have come to understand exactly what that entails. He amended the slogan this morning after Elle found an uncapped pen and her dad’s open book and personalized it as: “It’s not even nice things. I just want things.”

After the holidays that’s a terribly materialistic thing to say when a person is supposed to be self-sacrificing and interested in goodwill for all. But there you have it. We young parents are super self-centered and our goodwill pretty much extends only as far as our toddler’s attention span.

I’ve been away from blogging for almost a year and although it’s a cheap and lame excuse, it really is all Elle’s fault. Children change you. No matter at what age they enter your life – whether you’re 30 and a parent for the first time or 45 and marry into a per-existing family unit – the introduction of a new, and permanent person in your life is a major life change.

I marvel at being her mom. It’s crazy. There’s this walking, talking person in my life now who didn’t used to be. Without even realizing it, we’ve adapted.

Jonathan Coulton understands.

We plan weekend errands around her nap/feeding schedule. Social engagements have to be kid-friendly. My wardrobe really does revolve around how easy it would be to scrub out unexpected stains.

The Jade House though remains an ongoing-exception. All projects have been put on hold for the time being, but not completely dismissed. We just have to look at them differently. A working hall bathroom would be great before she starts potty-training, but getting a handle on the organizational nightmare our house has become is a higher priority.

This brings me back around to the selfish nature of new parents. She’s napping right now. I should be folding laundry. Or cleaning up the kitchen. Ravenholm, the basement, is still a lost space. But I’m not. Instead I’m blathering to the Internet and giving strong consideration to jumping in the shower. Maybe even I’ll take a nap.



Things That Go Bump In The Night (Also In The Morning)

On the weekends I enjoy just tuning off the humidifier and relishing the silence of the house before our day begins.

But wait.


There. If you don’t sneeze you can hear the pitter-patter of little feet.

Not kidlet feet. At 26 weeks it’s still chilling in my belly.

It’s not little cat feet either. Harley is on my lap and I can see Antigone curled up on the couch in the front room.

There’s a scuttling in the ceiling above our dining room and I am pretty confident at this point that we have a bit of a rodent problem.

We have not spotted any signs of droppings and there are no visible holes in the walls (minus the gappy floorboard vent in the upstairs hallway and the hole in the kitchen ceiling). But we did find two dead mice when we moved in and there were mouse traps in the garage.

Maybe this is the third blind mouse?

Maybe it’s like the corrupted toys from “Toy Story,” like the Erector Set spider baby which then makes me think of Jonathan Coulton’s song “Creepy Doll.”

At this point though, we suspect that the sound is coming from the floor joists, between the second and first floors, where the bees had their hive over the summer. It is possible that whatever residue is leftover is sustaining the skittery critter.

And it needs to die.

I usually don’t feel that violent toward small creatures. Cockroaches, yes. But not fuzzy things. However, with April just a few months away, I don’t feel as though we have time to coax the little furball out from our floors. Listen, Jade House, we have other things that need to get done.

Monday or Tuesday someone is coming and they will fix this problem. We looked on Angie’s List and contacted a few pest removal outfits. Only one has returned our request … which is a problem I have found with Angie’s List that I find somewhat frustrating. There are only two major problems with this whole scenario.

  1. If it not a mouse or rat, they don’t have the certifications to deal with anything bigger (like a squirrel).
  2. It’s in the freaking floor boards.

I guess this is what we get for living in a neighborhood that prior to 1969 really was just farmland. The ecosystem really doesn’t care that we’re trying to build a life here and that we have two cats who should be perfectly capable of handling mouse-shaped noms. They certainly take care of all of the spiders in Ravenholm for us.

We’re laying down baseboards in the kidlet’s room this weekend and maybe we’ll also excavate the library and just verify that there aren’t any obvious signs of rodent habitation. You know, just in case there is a creepy doll hiding up there or something.