I'm Making A List - But Santa Doesn't Want Any Part Of This One

I'm having a bad day, and I decided to make a list of all the things that are currently ticking me off and/or upsetting me. Get yourself a snack, it's a long list.

1. My house smells. I don't know what it is, or WHY it smells. All I can tell you is there's definitely an odor. I have a really highly defined sense of smell, and that coupled with my OCD is driving me straight up the wall. I think the odor is centered around Roger's closet and the patio room. It might even be some kind of squirrel mummy stuck in the attic, which leads me to....

2. We have squirrels in our attic. Not just regular squirrels - these are very athletic, very noisy, very social squirrels who apparently like to entertain between 6 - 7:00 a.m. every morning. Squirrels do brunch - who knew? I went on a wildlife removal company's website and discovered that squirrels and "other vermin" (yes, squirrels are actually VERMIN - which DID NOT make me feel better), once they are in your attic, they burrow through your insulation, making nests and "soiling" everything. Yep, those vermin are using our attic as their 2,000 square foot litter box. Those cute little buggers are getting uglier by the minute, I can tell you.

3. My dog is an evil demon from Hell and is out to destroy my life. Okay, maybe that's a little harsh, but I'm very disgusted with She Who Is Thisclose To Getting Shipped Off To Doggie Obedience Camp. I'm tired of being dragged every morning from one smell to another, tired of trying to walk around and avoid her "kitty deposit" snacking opportunities, and tired of being afraid to answer the doorbell - not because of who might be on the other side, but because of being tackled from behind by this 90 pound, blonde, visitor seeking missile.

The mailman just delivered a package for Joseph (believe me, I'll make sure he knows he's to blame when he gets home). I try to open the door just a tee tiny bit, so my sweet and understanding mailman can slip the mail through to me, when Little Miss Nuclear Bomb shoves her way through and takes off like a pmsing woman chasing the Russell Stover's delivery van.

I drop the mail, grab the leash and high tail it after her. Is anything more embarassing than screaming and chasing after your dog, while the dog continues running around doing whatever the Hell it wants, with a slap happy grin on its' face? Yeah, everybody, look at ME - I am obviously in charge of this situation. Who needs Cesar Milan? Not me, nope, I am SOOO much the pack leader.

The neighbor across the street helps me grab Layla and I get her leashed up and she STILL continues to PULL ME DOWN THE STREET!!! Now, this is just adding insult to injury, isn't it? She got her free romp - why can't she be a little giving and at least ACT like she's taken a training class (which she HAS, by the way)? Oh no, she's gotta push and push and push (or in this case, pull and pull and pull) - hey, there might be a nice cat poop snack out there she's missed.

By this time, I'm seriously rethinking my decision NOT to use my father's approach to dog training. Which is to beat the ever lovin' snot out of a dog when it misbehaves. Sure, you get a dog that dives for cover and pees on itself every time you lift your hand to scratch your nose, but you DON'T have to worry about them misbehaving.

4. My yard looks like war torn Iraq. Seriously, string some barbed wire and slap up some sniper towers and you don't even have to go remote to do convincing war coverage stories. I'd like to have one of those "livable back yards". The kind that just BEGS you to come sit and enjoy a book or the wildlife (except the vermin). The only problem is, I'm too lazy to do it myself and we can't afford to hire it done. A couple of things are ahead of that in the financial line....college educations for two.

5. I'm lonely and I'm just gonna get lonlier. I know, I know, break out the violins....but, I can't help it. Being a Stay At Home Mom is a wonderful job. Except, you don't realize how great it is until you're DONE doing it. At least I didn't.

Alex has been moved out a while and has recently moved EVEN FURTHER away from us. Joseph is going away to college in the Fall, further breaking my heart and ruining my life, and apparently the DOG is even trying desperately to get away from me.

6. I can't even enjoy my pity party in peace. I got a Christmas Card from a used-to-be neighbor today. She has two kids that are our kids' ages, and in her yearly Christmas Letter (yes, she's one of THOSE people), she told about her son being in a horrible car accident last February. A very severe accident, which, among other things, resulted in him losing two fingers on his left hand.

She didn't go into other details, but the fact that he's moved back home at the age of 22 and is working for the "family company" tells a story of it's own. It also tells me that I should shut up and stop feeling sorry for myself. If a smelly house, live-in squirrels, a manic dog and a touch of lonliness are my only problems - then I don't have any problems at all.