The First One

As a single mom/full-time employee/half-time student/homeowner...my life is a bit hectic. Chaos is the norm, and I constantly feel like I'm chasing my own tail and about five seconds away from really losing it this time.

I've gotten totally accustomed to being the only person that takes out the garbage on Tuesday mornings and having to routinely get up at 3 am during the winter months to see how much white powder has accumulated in my driveway while kiddo has been peacefully sleeping the night away, so as to determine what time I will really have to get up and shovel. Again. I have started paying all the bills at once so that I don't neglect to meet my obligations in a timely fashion. If you drive by my house at 1 am, the likelihood that all the lights will be on and I will be slumped over, sleeping in a Spanish novel, is good.

I made my bed, I try to handle it the best I can.

Until this morning. This morning, as I turned on the lights and went to my usual corner of the living room to curl my hair (I do this so I can catch some early morning tunes without waking the boy) I heard something. Fear instantly pierced my body, as it does every single time I hear an unexpected noise in my home and realize, for the umpteenth time, that I am alone in this house and have a 4-year-old relying on me for protection.

I wait.

Scratch, scratch. Scratch, scratch.

Seriously?? A mouse. IN MY GARBAGE.

So what do I do, oh independent me.

I call my ex-husband. At 6:45 in the morning. To tell him there is a mouse in the garbage cupboard.

Um, not really his problem.

He calms me down; I'm near hysterics. I've not once called him like this since we split up. He rationally tells me that I will have to get some mouse traps after work, he can help me set them up.

Maybe we all need someone to lean on. Maybe independence is great, but knowing that someone will be there to catch you if you fall is even greater.

I'll be going to Meijer on my lunch break.