ants, spiders, a cat, and a dog

What a morning. And it's only 10:30am.

Some people find out that their houses were built on ancient Native American burial grounds. Some people have fantastic ghost stories. We, on the other hand, have ants.

Ever since I've known Al (almost ten years now), he's lived in this house. And every spring, there is an influx of ants--hundreds and thousands of them, and they'll just appear one day, springing up out of the floorboards. Well, this year it hasn't been that bad yet (perhaps only a couple hundred, and not all at once), but it seems like every morning I'm vacuuming up ants (including today). I tend to believe our house was built on a giant ant hill, but it's more likely that they live in the sand underneath our patio in the backyard. My theory has some merit, though, because they not only come in through the wall on that side of the house and through the sliding glass door to the back, but through the garage and somewhere near the kitchen window, as well. Those are not near the patio.

Ants are not appealing to me for various reasons: they belong outside; flying ants once dive-bombed my workplace every day for a week, ending up in our hair and clothing (Danny can attest to that--well, except for the hair thing--he was always bald then); I don't want ants crawling on me or on my baby when it's here. But it's tricky getting rid of them when you have two animals in the house that you don't want poisoned and a baby on the way. We've placed ant traps in the vent by the sliding back door and in the garage near that entry, and I've just decided to have Al place a couple under the couch that backs up to our kitchen (sunken family room, a half-wall filled with cupboards and the oven separate kitchen and family room--hard to explain). Serena can't fit under there, and neither can a fifty-five pound dog. We can't really spray outside because of Mya and other neighborhood dogs (no fences in this association). So any suggestions for getting rid of regular old ants (not carpenter, red, or flying, thank God) would be welcome.

Thankfully, I haven't seen any spiders yet this morning, but I'm sure I will by the end of the day. This year, along with an infestation of ants, we've had an infestation of pale-colored spiders. They're usually on the ceiling when I see them, and it's usually night. So I make Al get rid of them--I have a thing with taking care of spiders on the ceiling because I'm afraid they'll fall into my hair. Ugh. Just the thought of that makes me cringe. But Al's method of "taking care of them" is not to my liking. He refuses to kill them, but captures them in a large drinking cup and dumps them in the garage, two feet from the door to the house, or in the backyard, again two feet from the door to the house. Like they're not just going to come back inside, and I swear they do, there are so many of them. If I'm home alone and they're in a position where I can get the broom, a shoe, or a few squirts of Windex at them, I kill them. I firmly believe that it's no good vacuuming up spiders or their eggs since I'm not 100% sure the vacuum suction will kill them and the eggs could just hatch inside the vacuum, and crawling out they could come! My aunt laughs at me for killing spiders (and their eggs) with Windex, though. She says it reminds her of the father in My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Oh, and I'm fairly certain these spiders bite, because when I have seen them nearby and Al hasn't taken care of them at all, I tend to wake up with a new bite. Figures. So any suggestions on getting rid of these pests would be appreciated, as well.

The cat--she's been my biggest concern this morning, and the reason that my optimistic feelings about the day quickly vanished. After I let the dog out, I noticed that there was diarrhea all over our family room carpet. And since Mya had just been let out of her crate, I knew it wasn't hers. Since Al's working today, I had the almost impossible task (for a pregnant woman with a forty-one centimeter belly and painful stretching in her ligaments) of trying to clean it all up. I'm not even supposed to change kitty litter, but I wasn't about to leave it all day for my dog to eat and/or step in (probably eat first, then step in what was left). It left some colorful stains--making it even more imperative to get our carpets cleaned, no matter how tight money is stretched right now--and the vet wasn't happy to hear about it or the fact that she hasn't eaten or drank anything yet (I was to call and give him an update this morning). He suggested confining her to one room with access to the litter box, food, and water--and, oh, give her the antibiotics and steroids he prescribed.

Again, not an easy task for a pregnant woman. Serena was hiding in our closet, and when I got down on the floor to get her out, I temporarily forgot my physical limitations and went to lean/lay on my side--causing excruciating pain in my ligaments, ending with me lying on the floor in pain with no way to get up and no phone nearby. This, of course, scared me. I have a hard enough time getting up off the floor when I'm on my hands and knees, and I was halfway on my back and halfway on my side with nothing to push against or help me roll over (rolling over is one of the most painful things to do because of those ligaments, and the big belly doesn't help). I half cried, half prayed hysterically for God to help me, because I really couldn't imagine spending all day (at least ten hours until Al would arrive home, at that point) in that position on the floor. I ended up pushing through the pain enough to first elevate my back into a reclining position, somehow roll to my knees (I think) and grab the side of the bed, and push/pull myself up and ended up sitting on the bed. Then (and this was probably stupid, but I was worried about my cat) I got back down on the floor, careful to remain on my hands and knees (I know from letting Mya in and out that I can get up from this position) and pulled Serena out of the closet, all to the tune of a howling, crying dog in her crate.

After all of that, I put Serena in the living room (Al's suggestion, since she tends to like to hide behind the couch in there) where I had put a box of kitty litter and her food and water. I set up the gate and let Mya out, and she immediately went to the back door and asked to be let out in the pouring rain. While she was out, Serena, who hates being confined anywhere, ended up coming up to the gate to investigate. She acted like the bandage where her IV had been was bothering her, so I picked her up and pulled it off. I noticed then that the diarrhea wasn't only all over the floor, it was all over her fur. She was still a bit sedated and hadn't really cleaned herself like she normally would. I decided against trying to do it for her--she hates being held unless she climbs up on a lap herself, and with her back claws, trying to clean her at this point would be unnecessary torture for her and a nightmare for me--but did decide to give her the medication while I had her (something else she absolutely hates). As I was forcing it down her throat Mya wanted to be let back in (of course), and Serena started to go berserk trying to get away from me. I got the pills down, put Serena back in the living room, and went to let Mya in.

Mya must have smelled Serena on me (and probably the dried diarrhea, too) since instead of sitting and letting me wipe her paws and dry her off, she tried to bolt past me. I caught her and was able to hold onto her, but had a heck of a time getting the mud off of her paws. She also somehow had mud on her back and brushed up against the couch (of course), making not only the entryway muddy, but our furniture, as well (oh, and did I mention that Sena must have tried jumping up on the couch during her diarrhea episode? The patch on the side of the couch attests to that). And since she's been back in, Serena has tried jumping over the gate about three times, and each time Mya has to go and investigate. I put a blanket over the gate thinking that if they can't see each other they'll each forget it and stay on their respective sides of the gate, but when Serena tries to jump the gate Mya sticks her nose under the blanket and then Serena swats at it, probably thinking it's a game like I used to play with her. As of now, Serena is sitting and staring at the gate, probably contemplating on how to escape the living room (exhibit A: pics seen here). Not like she wouldn't be in there (or in my closet) all day anyway if I wasn't forcing her to stay there.

And it's only 11:10am...