Living With Mold, Mice & a Bat: A Story of Finding the Good

I'm sitting at my new desk.

My spine is straight, my head is tilted slightly to the left, and my smile is humbled and soft.

Boy, do I miss having A/C. I press a button and every room in my home matches that temp?

"What a treat." She says as she brings her wine to her lips.

Tonight I'm wearing yoga pants, an oversized sweater, and a plain white T. 

I miss my red one. Very much.

(Takes sip/closes eyes)

My daughter and I have been at our new place now for a little over 2 weeks; and we still have yet to see any centipedes, waterbugs, ants, flies, mice, snakes, mold, or bats.

"It actually feels strange to not have to wear shoes inside the home." She says, as she slowly moves her toes over the carpet.

There was one spider here though. He was small compared to the mini-tarantulas we were dealing with at the old place.

When I saw him on the wall, I stopped to admire his size then I killed him with my bare hands.

(Smiles wide/takes sip)

How many of you believe God puts you through certain situations to make you stronger?

I don't know if you guys can see, but I'm totally raising my hand.

My daughter and I decided to rent what we thought was our dream home, but it actually turned out to be a nightmare I never wish to wake up from again.

This house was built around the 1940s and was incredibly charming. Was, incredibly charming. When you stood in front of it, you couldn't help but smile. 

It was kind of like meeting a super hot guy that made you believe there was potential to become something great, but he ends up being a total asshole after you walked inside and got to know him. 

Then you find all the bats in his closet.

Literally.

A lot of friends have said, "Samantha, I'm so sorry you had to experience everything you went through in that house."

I mean, yeah, it wasn't the coziest situation to be in. I knew there was no A/C and no dishwasher, but the spiders, ants, mice, and mold really made it feel like a campground with four walls and a roof.

Obviously, some days were better than others. I'd say the majority of them weren't pleasant. But like I always tell myself, "You're just swimming through a swamp of sh*t right now, but there is always land ahead to rest and dry off on."

It's just finding the land that's hard.

No one ever gives you a map, or clean, precise direction when you're going through something difficult. The liquor store will give you coupons, but the White Claws you're slamming back won't make your problems go away. They're still crawling all over you at night while you're sleeping.

(Throws up a little in mouth)

What was validated for me living in that house was you have to focus on the good if you wanna make it through.

The good is what keeps you moving forward. The good will keep you swimming through the sh*t swamp until you find the dry land.

Or until you find a new home where you're not being woken up from critters scratching within the walls.

(Swallows vomit/takes quick sip)

Some nights, I didn't sleep.

One night, I was sitting in my living room watching, The Notebook. Of course I was crying; not because Ryan Gosling isn't my husband, but because I've seem to forgotten what real passion feels like with another human - then SNAP - a mousetrap goes off in my kitchen, and I am hearing all of its screams.

"ALLLL of its screams." She shutters.

My eyes literally bulged out of my face and I couldn't move. About a minute went by and it finally stopped.

After I took my first swallow and continued to breathe, I went back to the raining scene where he picks her up in her beautiful blue dress and the mouse started squealing - AGAIN.

(Gets up to refill)

I avoided my kitchen the next morning for almost 2 hours. No coffee. No breakfast. No kitchen.

I didn't want to see where the trap had ended up. I mean, there's nothing better than waking up after a terrible nights' rest to a mouse lying dead in the middle of your floor.

Or the one night when I watched a pair of carpenter ants fall right out of a hole in the wall of my bedroom. I was just about to rest my head, but that woke me up like 20 shots of espresso.

"WHAT IS HAPPENING?" I screamed out loud.

I immediately felt violated. Like - this is my room. This is where I sleep. These ants were crunchy, crispy, and HUGE. And they looked just like the ones that were falling from the cupboards in the kitchen.

I needed to do something, so I frantically ran to the junk drawer and grabbed the most creative thing I could find.

Elmers Glue and Super Glue.

I used an entire bottle of Elmers to plug the hole, then almost an entire bottle of Super Glue to fix the broken cap around the cable that was running through the hole to the outside. I was hysterical. I was laughing and shaking like,

"Ha-hah, I got you now you stupid _____ ants." As I squeezed the glue in harder.

I fell asleep with ease that night knowing they couldn't get through anymore.
I even waited for the glue to dry.
I felt victorious.
I felt safe.

Until we met the flies.

I never want my daughter to grow up and be afraid of bugs. So when I realized there were flies in the basement, I chose to see it as an opportunity to teach my daughter how to be brave.

These flies were not your typical housefly. Oh no. These flies had big red eyes, with yellow and green on their bodies, and were the size of circus peanuts.

Before we would walk downstairs, we would look at each other and say, "We are strong. We are brave. Now let's go get 'em!"

One night, after slaying almost 10 of them, I Googled, "Where are these big flies coming from?" as there were never any windows and doors open for them to get in.

Google said: These flies are primarily scavengers and most develop in meat or animal carcasses, but also in animal excrement and garbage. Dead animals (rodents, or animals caught in the chimney) are the usual source of flies within a structure.

"Hmm..." I thought. Maybe those rodents I was listening to in the walls at night have died, and these flies are now munching on their dead bodies.

(Considers switching to bourbon)

Thank God it only lasted a couple of weeks.

Sophia still walks around with her pink fly swatter today saying, "We gotta get 'em mom!"

I love her so much.
After that, I thought we were in the clear.

Until I met the bat.

One evening, I had a girlfriend over for wine. We were chatting and laughing, as women do. As she was about to leave, I went into my room quick to grab an oil to help her sleep. My desk lamp was on, and I could see what I needed right when I walked in. As I reach the desk a bat flew over my head - and by the volume of my screams, you would have thought someone was ripping off a limb.

I ran so hard out of my room the rug was bunched up all the way to the middle. I even got rug burn on two of my toes.

I had a sign above the fireplace that said, "Be here now." And after wiping away the tears my girlfriend laughs and says to me, "You shouldn't be here now, Sam. You need to leave."

(Takes hard sip)

Not 24 hours later, after deciding to begin cleaning out the tuck-under storage space, I found mold. Everywhere. Blue, green, white, and yellow mold spores growing on our furniture and belongings.

I purchased a mold testing kit to test the air within the rest of the basement, and after 48 hours of letting it sit, I watched that Petri dish confirm my decision to breaking the lease and moving out.

(Takes deep breath/pauses for deep thought)

I have never experienced a living situation like that.

Ants falling from the ceiling in my bathroom.
Centipedes hiding under the dishes drying on the counter.
Constantly shaking out clothes and bedsheets.
Worrying the snakes outside would make their way in.
Wearing shoes all day, and constantly looking down.
Then when the bat came, still wearing shoes all day and constantly looking up.
Going down into the basement, carrying a flyswatter and/or dustpan like James Bond in 007.

My body was living in fight-or-flight mode 90% of the time.

Even when we'd go to a friend's house, I'd sit on the floor and random anxiety would kick in thinking something was going to crawl, jump, or fly out at me.

(Feels tightening in chest/applies Stress Away & Valor)

So - with all of the stress, swearing, smashing, screaming, stomping, sleepless nights, Sauvignon blanc, and sh*t that we went through - I am grateful.

Why?

That Bat House, that crazy old bat house lead me to my bike.

Boom. We've found the good.

Had we not lived in that house, I don't think my mild curiosity of motorcycles would have ever been put into action. Watching my neighbor constantly ride her bike in and out, hearing it and seeing it, I wouldn't have gained the confidence within myself to even say, "I want that."

The silver lining of that experience was my bike.

(Swirls wine in glass)

Google defines silver lining as: a sign of hope or a positive aspect in an otherwise negative situation. The phrase is often seen as part of the proverb every cloud has a silver lining, meaning that there's hope or something good to be found in every bad situation.

If you've recently swam through a sh*t swamp or sh*t situation like me, or if you're swimming through one right now, I want you to think of one good thing that's come from it.

Not 5 things, not 10 things - ONE thing.

Once you've found it, put it in front of you every day. Say, "I am grateful for _______." Write it on post-its. Say it out loud. Meditate on it - for what you focus on expands.

Don't focus on the swamp. Keep your head up and keep swimming through the muck, the emotions, and the BS.

Then when you make it through to find dry land, you will be so much stronger when you get there.

Or you'll just be able to bait mice and kill spiders with your bare hands.

(Winks/smiles)

I feel like celebrating and cranking up the tunes.

I can't crank them too loud though. I haven't met my neighbors yet, and I'm not sure they enjoy Bob Seger as much as I do.

Stay tuned for the next blog, The Pros, and Cons of Apartment Living.

If you found value in this blog, please drop a comment or share it with someone you love. I'm Living Simply Sam. Living simply is what I do.

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