Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

facing fears

How to rid your house of mice {in 99 easy steps}

  1. Notice mouse droppings in the pantry of the old farmhouse you’ve just moved into.
  2. Convince yourself that it’s probably not recent because no one has lived here for a while.
  3. Accidentally drop a large piece of pizza between the fridge and stove.
  4. Forget to clean it up.
  5. Ask husband if he cleaned up the pizza the next morning when you notice that it is gone.
  6. Conclude that you definitely have a mouse in the house.
  7. Freak out.
  8. Ask friends what they recommend for traps.
  9. Buy traps.
  10. Place one glue trap between the fridge and stove to catch the mouse on its path from the pantry to the counters.
  11. Wait. Overnight, if possible.
  12. Avoid looking at the area the next morning when you wake up.
  13. When children insist the trap is moving, call husband out of bed to dispose of mouse and trap.
  14. Breathe a sigh of relief and continue to enjoy your new home.
  15. Forget about mice for months.
  16. While using the step stool to put away spare sheets in the hall closet, decide to finally clean up all the accumulated plastic bags on the floor of the pantry so you can return the step stool to its rightful place.
  17. Notice mouse droppings.
  18. Convince yourself that those are leftover mouse droppings from the last mouse because you aren’t a terribly thorough cleaner and you can’t remember how well you cleaned the pantry anyway.
  19. Collect plastic bags to take to recycling.
  20. Jump and scream when you move plastic bags and a little mouse scurries across the pantry and disappears into the wall.
  21. Run to the bedroom and jump on the bed where your 4-year-old retreated when he heard you scream.
  22. Take deep breaths.
  23. Convince yourself you can finish the clean-up job without screaming.
  24. Don gloves and gingerly pick up plastic bags until you can see the floor again.
  25. Move glue trap to the spot where you saw the mouse disappear.
  26. Recycle plastic bags at the grocery store.
  27. Tell husband about the mouse.
  28. Forget mice exist.
  29. Get on with life.
  30. On an unsuspecting day when you’re sitting at the computer and the children are running through the house, scream as you see a grey blob scurrying across the kitchen floor right toward you.
  31. Freeze.
  32. Run into the bedroom and jump on the bed with the kids while hubby is getting ready for work.
  33. Point and shriek when you see the rodent peeking out from behind a chair in the bedroom.
  34. Watch in horror and awe as your husband tries to trap the mouse in the hall closet.
  35. Scream again when the mouse escapes into the kids’ bedroom.
  36. Wonder out loud if maybe it’s time to move again.
  37. Take husband to work.
  38. Eat lunch when you get home.
  39. Let kids play outside so you can wash the dishes that piled up from the day before when you were sick.
  40. Remove from the kitchen the cardboard boxes for recycling and boxes of donations to take to Goodwill.
  41. Go back outside and play (which actually means ignoring the mouse problem.)
  42. Decide to walk to the park and back, which will kill about 2 hours of your day.
  43. Have fun at the park.
  44. Invent errands to run when you get home from the park.
  45. Go shopping at Target for water bottles and the grocery store for canned pizza dough because you wanted to make homemade dough but the kids wouldn’t leave your side.
  46. Attempt to roll out canned pizza dough.
  47. Curse and yell at the pizza dough that will not stretch correctly.
  48. Decide to go out for dinner.
  49. Eat at CiCi’s pizza.
  50. Go to another park.
  51. Return home for the fastest bath times in human history.
  52. Go to Chick-fil-a early for indoor play time before hubby gets off work.
  53. Tell hubby about your terrible horrible no good very bad day that also had some good points.
  54. Let the 6-year-old girl call her grandpa to talk about why she’s scared of the mouse.
  55. Sing children to sleep.
  56. Wear slippers to bed.
  57. Go to church the next morning because it’s Sunday and it’s the best place to be.
  58. Talk about your mouse problem and how it’s scaring the children (just the children, of course).
  59. Come home from church refreshed.
  60. Eat lunch.
  61. Enjoy family nap time.
  62. Pretend the mouse has vanished.
  63. See mouse scamper through the kitchen the next morning while everyone else is sleeping.
  64. Wake sleeping husband and convince him to put traps on the path.
  65. Send your daughter to school the next day with hope that the mouse will be gone by the time she’s home.
  66. Send hubby and son to Lowe’s for manly purchases.
  67. Clean parts of kitchen with fear and trepidation while they are gone.
  68. Convince yourself mouse is nothing to be afraid of.
  69. Let husband and son back in the house as husband points out the mouse scurrying across the kitchen.
  70. Leap onto the bench at the counter/peninsula while husband resumes attempt to catch the mouse.
  71. Watch him squeeze himself into the pantry while trying to trap the mouse.
  72. Sigh with dread as mouse disappears. Again.
  73. Spend the rest of the day battling big emotions and crying.
  74. Lie down for a few minutes before picking the girl up from the bus.
  75. Work together as a family to cook a delicious dinner.
  76. Put the kids to bed.
  77. Bait a trap with peanut butter.
  78. Discover mouse droppings in a place that makes you want to puke.
  79. Watch Doctor Who to take your mind off things.
  80. Hear sounds from the kitchen.
  81. Send husband to investigate.
  82. Breathe easier when he tells you he has caught and disposed of a mouse.
  83. Sleep soundly that night, without slippers on.
  84. Tell kids the good news the next morning.
  85. Put daughter on the bus.
  86. See mouse scurrying through the kitchen as you and son prepare to leave for playdate.
  87. Tell husband to bait another trap, even if it means the mouse will be your problem later in the day while he’s at work.
  88. Hear sounds in kitchen before you and son leave.
  89. Tell hubby that mouse may already be caught.
  90. Leave for playdate and enjoy time outside of the house.
  91. Return from playdate to learn that second mouse has been caught and disposed of.
  92. Spend next two days tiptoeing around your house, jumping at slight movements and shadows, ears alert to any kind of noise, unconvinced that mouse problem is over.
  93. Tell Facebook friends you need prayer because you are going crazy over this.
  94. Get on with kitchen/laundry chores because it can’t wait.
  95. Report mouse problem to landlord.
  96. Wait for landlord’s call.
  97. Consider getting a cat against landlord’s policy.
  98. Write longest how-to list on the face of the earth.
  99. Leave readers hanging in suspense because you really don’t know how this is all going to turn out.

How to face your fears and live to tell about it

I saw a comic this morning before I left the house. A caped girl, called Anxiety Girl, was described as “able to jump to the worst possible conclusion in a single bound.”

I laughed.

And then I proved her words true for my life.

I went grocery shopping with my son, and after our first stop, I realized that the money that should be available to us for food every month (we qualify for food stamps), hadn’t processed yet this month. It was okay for today, but I started panicking. What if it doesn’t come at all? What if there’s been a mistake? What if …?

We bought what we needed. And we are not in danger of starvation.

Yet, I feared.

***

Before we moved, my son wanted nothing to do with dogs. A former neighbor’s dog was loud and sometimes mean, and we’d had a few run-ins with some unfriendly, unleashed dogs that struck fear in all of us: dad, mom and kids.

Even gentle dogs, puppies, he would shy away from.

Then we moved to a new place and our neighbors here have dogs, two big ones we often see in the backyard when they’re out to do their doggy business.

And I wondered if it was only a matter of time before a dog bite. Or if my kids would always be afraid of dogs and if there was any way to help them overcome it.

***

train tracks

Train tracks sometimes scare me. Even when there are gates. My heart catches in my throat as I imagine getting stuck on the tracks when a train is coming and being unable to move from its path. Maybe I watched Stand By Me one too many times as a kid or heard one too many stories about train-versus-car accidents. For whatever reason, crossing train tracks is an anxiety-inducing experience.

The first time we made the trip from our new house to my husband’s work, we crossed a set of tracks that have no gates, no lights.

And I feared the crossing every time we made the trip, twice a day or more.

***

Here’s the thing about fears and anxiety: it’s a really crummy way to live.

I’m no expert or professional on the subject, but I’m learning that for some fears and some anxieties, there is a way to meet them head on and live to tell about it.

***

A year ago, our food budget was almost non-existent. We’d been disqualified from food stamps due to a law change at the same time my husband was out of school and looking for full-time work. Some months, we spent $20 at the discount grocery and made it work. We ate a lot of PB&J and pasta. We also had some very generous friends who helped us out.

Ever since I watched The Pursuit of Happyness, that Will Smith movie where he and his son are homeless and just trying to get by and get out of that situation, I’ve feared being homeless and hungry. We were never in danger of either, but that season of leanness taught me to trust. God. People. Even my own resourcefulness to make a meal out of practically nothing.

***

On Saturday, we went to our local library branch for a program with reading assistance dogs. It was our third time visiting the library for this. A local couple brings in their greyhounds and the kids can sit on the floor and read or show books to them. The first time we went, my son was scared. He didn’t want to sit anywhere near them or leave my lap. Each time, he’s gotten more comfortable with the dogs. This time, he was almost more excited than his sister to go see the dogs. Now he’ll sit on the floor by them and let his monkey pet them when he leaves.

And we’ve been outside enough times when the neighbor dogs are out to know that the owners have a good handle on the dogs. They’ve never even approached us and they listen well.

Not all dogs are vicious. Not all dog owners are lax. We don’t have to fear all dogs. Experience is teaching us that fear denies us opportunities to learn and grow. These greyhounds are so gentle and special. Had we continued in our fear of dogs, we’d have missed out on a great relationship with them and their owners.

***

Every time I approached the unmarked tracks, I slowed the car and looked both ways and gunned it across. Then I began to notice that other cars paid the crossing almost no attention at all. They didn’t slow. They barely glanced. They just crossed. I wondered if the tracks were no longer in use, although I didn’t see a sign that said that. So, I took after the other cars and started crossing at normal speed.

Then one day, I saw the lights of a train farther down the track. Another day, I saw the back of a train going around the curve.

Not a dead track, after all. But the trains were moving slow, so I figured the chances of my car being hit by a train were slim.

Finally, we came upon the tracks one day when a train was moving around the corner. The conductor blew the whistle loudly and frequently as it approached and all the cars stopped on either side of the tracks. It was then that I realized that if the conductor was doing his job, I would hear the train long before it was dangerous to cross. And I wasn’t likely to miss the sound of the whistle.

Others who have traveled this road frequently must have known this. Now, I know it, too.

And I’m less afraid of crossing the unmarked tracks.

***

Not all fears are the same. I get that. Not all anxieties are the same. Some are deeply rooted in painful experiences and require professional and medical help. I’m not offering a one-size-fits-all solution.

But I wonder if some of our fears and anxieties can be overcome by some of these things I’ve learned:

  • by experiencing the thing you fear. It could be that what I fear isn’t as bad as I think it could be.
  • by building relationships and trusting other people. Positive experiences and relationships might counteract the negative ones that cause me fear.
  • by learning from others’ example. My kids learn from me what to fear and what not to fear. Could I not do the same with more experienced peers?

Trust me when I say that I don’t have the anxiety thing all figured out. I still find my heart rate increasing when I’m in a crowd or trying to navigate the grocery aisles with two kids on a busy day. I still fear the worst when things don’t go as I expect.

But I don’t want to spend my life living in fear.

So, I’m learning. Or trying to.

Tell me, how do you overcome your fears? What ways have you found to send anxiety to the sidelines?