Want to hear a disgusting story about a weird smell in my house that kept getting worse and worse and then today when my Orkin man came over was discovered to be two decomposing rats in my attic? No, you don't? OK, fine.
In other news, my tear ducts are working just fine after finishing the seventh and final season of Gilmore Girls tonight. I'm already mini crisis-ing about my babies growing older and leaving the roost and then Rory goes off on a bus with Barack and I'm hard-core sobbing. It's hard to find a series that feels like family but this one definitely does. How have I lived without it?! Other shows I crush over? This is Us, duh. And oldies like White Collar and Psych. I miss Shawn and Gus!
As if the rat situation wasn't enough nastiness for one household we've had the barfs. Or more specifically, the girls have had the barfs. Cora and Quinn are waking up at all hours of the night and crying all hours of the day and just when I think they're both feeling better they both seriously freak out. And I went off sugar this week so clearly the timing is perfect. Or maybe I might die.
Tonight I was filling out emergency cards for the boys' school and it had me thinking about two years ago this week when we moved to LA from NYC and immediately drove to the school to enroll T in first grade. I had not a friend to my name and when the secretary said it was mandatory to include an emergency contact, I cried and wrote my Mom's name down (and then spent weeks praying that nothing bad happened, because what was she going to do from 300 miles north?) But tonight, I had a handful of fine friends to choose from when I was writing down names and my heart felt so much peace and gratitude. I am home, and I love it here.
Except for the rats.
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