I really hate mice. I mean, really. A few months ago, Pen heard what she thought was some kind of little animal in the wall down in her room. Rophone and I didn't hear anything, so we weren't sure if she was right or not. But, a few weeks later we heard the same type of thing.
The sounds would come and go, and there weren't any signs that the creature had entered the house, so we kept thinking maybe it had gone away. Then I started hearing sounds in the wall under the kitchen sink. Disconcerting and disgusting to say the least. I decided to clean out the pile of plastic bags I kept under there to see what I could see.
As I was pulling the plastic bags out, I noticed poop. Little mousey poops. Eeeeek! Definitely not what I wanted to find. Playing with mouse poop while pregnant is probably not a good idea (not that it's ever a good idea!). A mouse or mice had been galavanting around under my kitchen sink, eating crumbs from the trash! Just thinking about it makes me sick. I hollered for Rophone and put him on the cleanup task. Ugh.
Since then, we have caught 3 mice under there-- two last week and one this week. How many more are there?! Have mice been procreating and expanding their brood (at exponential rates!) within the walls of the house?! Knowing how fast mice can increase their numbers is really getting me panicked.
We haven't as of yet seen them traipsing out and about the other rooms of the house, or seen signs that they have been, but we aren't mouse police and it's a big house. Rophone has been trying to figure out how they got into the walls in the first place, but as he wanders around the foundation of the house this non-mouse-police-person isn't sure what he's looking for.
I'm getting quite bitter. Mice are not my friends and never will be. They are robbing me of the relaxing enjoyment I should be having on Christmas break with the kids. I'm pregnant, for heaven's sake! I have enough stuff to be worried about!
It doesn't help that I know a thing or two about hantavirus and other nasties mice can carry (stupid nature shows). Talk about upping my anxiety level. I mean, I'm pregnant so my immune system is lowered, and Rophone's medicine for his Crohn's lowers his immune system, too! Neither one of us should be handling mice or mouse poop!
Every little scratch or odd noise that I can't identify puts me on edge. You can often find me at a crouch, holding my breath to try to pinpoint what a noise is and where it is coming from. That's no way to live! I mean, do you know how hard it is to get up from a crouch when you're 31 weeks pregnant?!?
Knowing there are mice on the premises makes me feel dirty. It makes me not want to cook or eat. Even though I know they came into the walls of the house to escape the bitter cold outside (and not because we live in a slovenly manner), it still makes me feel like I'm gross somehow.
I need to focus on nesting and getting ready for the baby, without fear of what I might encounter! This has to be taken care of. For real. I think it may be time to call in the big guns (using only non-toxic methods, of course). I am determined to be victorious.