Something very sad (at least for me)...

So I'm up pretty early today...not the usual for me. Ty woke up for his 5:30 AM feeding and Mike did the whole thing. I should be sleeping in right? Except just as we were heading back to sleep we hear a loud bang from the basement. I asked Mike what that was and he said, "I don't know!?" Husbands should know what all bumps in the night (or in this case very early morning) are! Regardless he got up and went to check it out. He came back a very gleeful man. "We FINALLY got him!" HIM...our resident RAT. We have been fighting this mother F-er for over 7 months. Terminex (don't bother!), $100's of $ in traps and poison...have a heart traps...everything. In the end it was a stick balanced on a barrel that caught the not so little sucker. After discussion it was decided I would head out to buy antifreeze, while Mike added water to the barrel, so we could drown him, but quickly. At first I was happy...nothing like ridding your home of rodents to start your morning. Then, regular Amy kicked in. I asked if maybe we could just bring him far away and let him go. No. So I went to buy the antifreeze. I bought two gallons. Came home and wanting to be the good wife, offered to stay and help Mike with adding it to the bucket that he had added water too. I guess antifreeze makes the water thicker so they can't swim, and they just drown, rather than swimming till they are exhausted, which can be days. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I know if Mike could have handled it all alone, he would have. I was crying hysterically, and praying while I did it. He's done so much damage to our house and possessions, but it was still really hard. Poor Mike. Thankfully the rat passed quickly, but it doesn't make me any happier. So I guess if everyone can say a little prayer for our rat? I don't know...I know that's a lot to ask of you all...

Just to end on something not so depressing...last night I was holding Ty and he was being a little fussy. It was right before bed and his bottle was taking more than 5 seconds to make. So I'm sitting there and I call him (or at least I mean to call him) Fussy-McFusser. Cause he's fussy. It sounded right in my head anyway...except instead of Fussy-McFusser, it comes out Fussy-McF***er. Opps. He's only 5 weeks and I've already called my beautiful baby a F***er? I need more sleep!