Right on the Edge of Crazy

For the first time in my life, I feel I’m truly going batty.  I’m not usually one to complain, or at least I try not to and instead face the world with a smile.  And I’m not very patient in my brain when someone tells me how busy they are and then lists the things they’ve been doing to prove to me how busy they have been.  Though I realize I’m guilty of this on occasion I’m sure, and I'm about to tell you how very busy I am.  But this time, the busy is for real and I’m barely keeping my head on straight.

Last time I posted, it was Samuel’s birthday, March 2^nd.  On the same day, not only did we celebrate his 5^th birthday, but we acquired a new house not for ourselves, but for Peter’s mother to retire into from Connecticut.  It is a small 2 bedroom 1 bathroom house that we purchased and she will rent back from us…and it was a serious fixer upper.  For the past several months Peter has spent every weekend and nearly every evening after work at Elaine’s house repairing and updating the house.  I’m not just talking about a coat of paint here and there.  At one point or another over the last several months he has raised the floor with a new support beam, put up new sheetrock and counters in the kitchen, textured every room in the house, painted every room in the house, gutted the bathroom down to all but the tub, sanded all the hardwood floors, refinished all the hardwood floors, trimmed the overgrown yard, added new windows, and ran new electricity and plumbing.  We had amazing help from my father, many firefighters, and good friends who helped with a lot of childcare so we could make it at least livable.  There is so much more to do…but we have time now.

On June 13^th, Peter flew to Connecticut to meet up with his mom and drive her to her new home with his best friend, Ken.  In the last two and a half weeks we have finally moved Elaine west, had Peter’s best buddies from his youth visit for a week (Ken and Amanda – which turned out to be probably the best company we have ever had!), our nephew from North Carolina stay with us for five days, and Peter’s brother and family stay with Elaine but spend much of their time with us at our home.  We wrapped this incredibly intense time up with a 66^th birthday party for Elaine, a family reunion at my parent’s for the McAmis family, and much firefighting for Peter in this dry climate.  Is that all you say?  We just got our van back with a $700 repair to the fan motor, our septic system is failing probably due to tree roots requiring me to do laundry for six people anywhere but here, and we are having problems with our well (thank goodness we share one with the county well driller).  We are exhausted, some of us sick with a summer cold, and right on the edge of crazy.

Why you say?  Here is the kicker for the edge of our sanity.  Nina and Jocelyn turn 2 next month and boy are they two in a way Samuel and Ethan never were.  Our parenting skills are facing a whole new challenge and half the time I just want to sit with my head in my hands.  First of all, they are trying to potty train themselves.  They simply don’t like their diapers and won’t wear them.  I have cleaned up poopy mess four times from Jocelyn and once from Nina.  I can’t tell you how many times they have peed on our floor.

Tonight was pure madness with the diaper situation, and it started when Nina took her diaper off and told me she was going to go potty.  Trying to be encouraging I said, “Woohee!  Okay!” and sent her off to the toilet.  I picked up her clothes to go to the hamper and when I passed the bathroom it was now both girls in the bathroom not going potty but emptying all the toilet paper into the bowl.  “No!  No toilet paper!”  I took the roll away and stupid me, who got distracted by the phone, left them with a brand new box of Kleenex on the back of the toilet.  When I returned to the bathroom they had emptied much of the Kleenex all over the floor and into the toilet.  I removed the tissue, pulled Jocelyn aside to go dress her but when I got her into the hall Nina started grabbing paper as fast as she could out of the garbage can and started stuffing it into the toilet.  I shrieked, “No!  Yucky!”  and she stopped.  I had to put down Jocelyn and pick up Nina to wash her hands.  Then Jocelyn started digging the soggy, wet paper out of the toilet!  “No!  No!  No!” I shrieked.  I sat down Nina in the hall who proceeded to scream “Potty!  Potty!” and run against my legs and grabbed Jocelyn.  I shook the nasty paper out her hands while giving Nina the leg and butt block to prevent her from getting back to the toilet.  Finally both girls had clean hands, so I set them in the hallway by grabbing one of their arms and dragging them out there.  Then I ran into the bathroom, shut and locked the door and finished cleaning up the sopping wet paper, wiping down walls, flushing the toilet, and emptying the trash.  Awesome.  There still weren’t diapers on these girls….so…Nina proceeded to poop on the dining room.  Mind you, they speak well enough now that when I walked out and hollered, “Oh! Who pooped on the floor?!!”  They answered in unison “Nina did it!” but it sounded more like “NINAH dit it!”  I cleaned up the poop as both of them continued by peeing on the floor.  So Nina and Jocelyn kicked mom’s butt with mucho wet paper products, nasty hands, one pile of poo and two puddles of pee.  How does this happen you wonder?  Have you seen how fast they move?  And did I tell you they are the bossiest Rossis we’ve had yet?

You must also watch out for the Rossi Twin Block.  They gang up on people.  I’m completely serious.  And it doesn’t matter the age or gender of whomever they decide to form their twin block against.  We were in the Raggedy Ann and Andy House at Storybook Island, a building no bigger than four feet by five feet which requires dedicated ducking by adults to enter.  This little girl, maybe four or five enters the house and Nina puts up her hand, palm flat in this girls face and says “NO!”  Jocelyn then makes her stance next to Nina and copies Nina’s actions.  I explain to them that we have to share the house and let other people in and they say, “No – mines!” Both are incredibly emphatic and pushy when they form the twin block.  Unbelievable!  This wasn’t the first time this had happened.  They had done it in a sandbox at a park with my mom caring for them and then recently we were at a birthday party where they performed their super-twin stunt.  At this party, there were kiddie pools in the yard for everyone to share.  Nina and Jocelyn were playing in one when a five year old girl came up to the pool and tried to get in the water.  I could almost hear Nina and Jocelyn chant, “Twin Block!  Unite!”  Then Nina proceeded to say “No” again with the, “speak to the hand” action, followed by a good shove landing this little girl down on her butt.  I felt awful.  Yep…I’m that mom.  I have two daughters who are beating their way through this world.  They’ll slug you, then smile and say, “shorry….shorry.”

They are annihilating my house one room at a time, they move faster than Lighting McQueen, they scream forever when you put them in their car seats, Jocelyn is throwing food and dishes like crazy, Nina lies face-down on the floor and throws a classic tantrum when she doesn’t get her way, they form the most amazing and infuriating twin block, and they won’t stay dressed.  They are approaching two without a doubt.  At the end of every day, I feel beat to a pulp.  I’m so tired, I’ve left my wallet in the Safeway shopping cart and drove all the way to Hulett without noticing until I needed fuel, sent my boys to my parents’ house when they should have been at a birthday party for a good friend instead, forgot to take my kids to swimming lessons one night, and neglected to take a milk cup out of my van to the point that it smelled like an animal died in it for days.   I’m tired.  Truly.  There I said it, I complained.  Oh, and did I mention how busy we are in addition to dealing with the twin, nearly two-year-olds?  We are so headed for crazy.

About Sam

Happy Birthday to my sweet boy, Samuel!  He turned the big 5 on Friday, and oh how I cried.  On the night before his birthday, as I hugged him, I couldn't stop thinking that this is the last time I'll ever hug him as a 4-year-old.  A five-year-old seems light years older than four.  Why?  I suppose it has something to do with the fact that he'll be in kindergarten this fall and going to school every day.  And I suppose it has something to do with the fact that he says things like "Wow!  That's an incredible feat!"   And the other day when he forgot to put the liner in the shower he said, "I apologize mommy, I didn't realize I was making such a mess."  What can you say to that?  Okay kid, no problem.  Are you 5 or 40?

Samuel has a heart of gold.  He is so sensitive and cares very much how people feel.  You'd be hard pressed to find a better older brother because he constantly helps his sisters and Ethan (almost too much) and he defends his family to anyone who dare make a crack at one of us.  He is very bright and it shows in his ability to pick up vocabulary quickly, knowing not just the words, but the accurate definitions and use of them as well.  He loves all things carnivore - dinosaurs, snakes, crocodiles, alligators and sharks are his favorite.  He jams to Peter's music with Guns 'n Roses, Nickelback, AC/DC and Bon Jovi ranking at the top of his favorites, and he only tolerates my music.  His desired meal is pasta or pepperoni pizza, his candy of choice is sour patch kids, he hates soda and loves milk, offer him a cookie and he'd never turn it down.  And he's such a home body.  He's happiest playing at home with his toys, outside riding his bike, eating food at our house, and nearly always with his shoes and socks off.  We have to convince him to go anywhere other than a play group with friends or Reptile Gardens.  He is a devoted friend, and always has a smile and a hug ready to dole out.

Here's a walk down memory lane, and one of my favorite pictures of Samuel from each year of his life.

A few weeks after Samuel was born.

Samuel at 1, two months before his baby brother Ethan was born.

Samuel shortly after he turned 2, enjoying a major snow storm and the results left behind on the back deck.

Samuel at 3, just beginning to discover the joy of climbing trees.

Samuel at 4, playing outside in the big swing.

Samuel at 5, celebrating his 5th birthday.

Happy Birthday, buddy!  We love you!  You've been a joy to us every day and we are so proud of you!

Delivery Please?

Aside from looking like a side show at the carnival and initiating much interesting conversation (are you Catholic, are they twins, are they natural twins, my you have your hands full, are you one of those "God's army" people) I can now add "dangerous to my health" to the list of things to consider prior to heading out for any shopping expedition with four children in tow.  Yesterday morning I thought it a brilliant idea to haul everyone to Robb's in Belle Fourche to see if they had any sweet deals.  In route to Robb's, Nina and Jocelyn fell sound asleep.  Instead of making the smart choice and turning the car around, I loaded the girls up in the cart (another one not made for multiples), and proceeded into Robb's.  From the moment I set them down, the tears started and I had to put one down, then pick the other one up.  I did this juggling thing for two aisles amidst Samuel and Ethan begging to ride in the cart also.

By the time we were on aisle three we were making serious progress.  We had managed to wrangle four coats off of kids, convince Ethan that he did not need purple streamers for Samuel's birthday (but he could have them in May for HIS birthday), switch Nina and Jocelyn at least four times, and Samuel had climbed into the cart even though I had said, "No."  Progress is relative after all.  And here is how it happened.  I was holding Nina in my left arm, Jocelyn had finally settled down on the opposite side of the cart from me, and Samuel was standing and surfing.  I said, "Samuel!  If you are determined to ride in the cart, sit down!"  At the very moment he stepped to the opposite side of the cart and tried to squiggle down next to Jocelyn, Ethan started climbing up the same side of the cart.  I haven't met an empty shopping cart yet that can handle 90 pounds of children on one side.  As the cart started to fly sideways, I grabbed it with my free right hand, slammed my foot on the base of it and in slow motion prevented the cart from flying to its side.  In the process, every inch of cart wracked and scraped and slid down my right knee leaving it a bloody, bruised mess until the cart laid sweetly and quietly on its side.  Jocelyn crawled out, Samuel had done a flying chop kick karate move somewhere in the midst of it, and Ethan had been gently set on the floor.  In addition to my knee wound, I walked away with a scrape on my ankle, three more lost years of life, and gray hair clamouring to sprout.  But I saved all four children.  Not a child was scratched. 

Post injury?  It scared the kids enough to be model shoppers and we hit jackpot at Robb's.  This morning, the resulting swelling in my knee had gone down and the scratch now appears superficial considering the blood loss yesterday, but there is a mean looking bruise all across the top of my kneecap, about four inches in diameter and oh my does it hurt.

It is because of shopping experiences like these that I've fallen completely in love with Bountiful Baskets for 93.7% of our produce when our garden isn't up and running, Melaleuca for 87.6% of my toiletries and household items such as cleaning and laundry supplies, and the butcher and the biannual Hutterite wagon provide 85% of our protein.  I buy Mary Kay makeup so I don't have to stand in the aisle and choose shades, I do Red Box for drive through movie rentals, Schwan's visits us every two weeks, and Walgreen's is where our pharmacy is so we can have it called in and do pickup.  Most of our eating out as a family constitutes delivery from the Golden Dragon, Domino's, or another service known as "Mommy calls it in, daddy picks it up on the way home from work."  I've become an Internet shopping junkie for holidays and birthdays because it involves a stop at the computer with coffee cup in hand and is dropped at my door 3-5 business days later.  If I can avoid aisle time, I do.

Despite this knowledge and my steps to alleviate required store time, I'll still brave the retailers, because after all, every American child needs Goldfish and who can argue with paper towel and toilet paper?  I also suppose, despite the mishaps, there isn't a greater learning opportunity than that grocery store where colors abound, numbers overflow, social graces are required, and listening to mommy isn't optional but it's always worth a good challenge.  A challenge for child and mom.

Vacuum on Overdrive

I recall working at one of my first jobs out of college, and a coworker and I were discussing the cleaning habits of our significant others.  Without getting into the obsessive nature of Peter's cleanliness, I'll just say that this guy had Peter beat.   Not only did he seem to have Peter's habits of constantly aligning things, he was absolutely anal about dust and carpets.  He vacuumed his home every day after work.  EVERY DAY!  I thought this was neurotic and over the top at the time.  I know now that I was naive and idealistic. Because the greater part of this story would also note that this couple had two children, while at the time, we had none.  Not only do I understand this man better, I've embraced his philosophy out of necessity.  I've reached this level of vacuuming as well, and sometimes I vacuum parts of my house two or three times a day, if the occasion calls for it.  And it often does.

Take the dining room carpet for example.  It's a land mine of mess that needs to be vacuumed every day for sure.  If I don't follow the regiment of vacuuming this room every day, it is like walking through what might appear to be a very successful food fight.  Nina and Jocelyn are in a horrible stage of tossing food and dumping their plates.  It's a disgusting, hair-pulling mess.  Samuel and Ethan, while much better at containing their food in a normal manner, still struggle to completely keep their zones at the table litter free.  Not to mention this is the room where we do the vast majority of our crafts that include cutting with scissors, sharpening crayons (3 and 4 year old style), play-doh, stringing beads, dying eggs, carving pumpkins, and all sundry of adventures that seem lead to the same place known as "On the Floor Ville."

If the day-to-day lifestyle isn't enough to hit the vacuuming hard, my kids like to give mom and the ol' vacuum a challenge through other exploits.  This past November, Nina and Jocelyn managed to climb up the pantry shelves, ladder style, and reach way in the back of one of the shelves and pull out the box of barley.  They carried the box to the living room, dumped it out, and then started eating it.  They were kind enough to share with Samuel and Ethan.  Who knew that hard, raw barley was so tasty?  After snapping a few pictures for proof, I proceeded to vacuum the disaster, and the four children proceeded to poop very frequently for the next two days.

Then there was the styrofoam incident. Following Thanksgiving, the Christmas packages started to roll in. I had ordered some glass items from Amazon, and they arrived all broken due to poor packaging. When the boys saw the boxes in the laundry room, they were ecstatic and asked if they could have them. I separated the boxes for return and said very specifically, "You can play in these big boxes. Do not touch this pile or any of the packing supplies. Especially the styrofoam!"  I went upstairs to be with Peter and the girls and sounds of laughter and joy came from the basement.  Boxes are so entertaining!  About thirty minutes later, Samuel comes up the stairs, covered with little white spots of styrofoam and says, "Mommy, I made a mistake." Trying to hold my breath to control the temper I felt rising, I followed him downstairs to an absolute disaster. The next line out of my mouth was "This wasn't a mistake! This was a choice! A VERY BAD CHOICE!" They had taken my styrofoam packing, and crushed it into tiny, eensy, weensy pieces and spread it all over the laundry room.  It was in everything, including the laundry, behind my machines, stuck to ironing clothes, stuck in the cleaning supplies, in all their art supplies, and on and on!  Needless to say, out came the vacuum. And two months later, I'm still vacuuming up random pieces of it. Of course, I took pictures!  My only sadness is that, alas, because much of the "stuff" in the laundry room is white, the pictures don't do the mess justice. 

Whether it is the emptied box of Cheerios by the lazy susan, the mashed popcorn in the couch, or simply the day-to-day dining room war, there isn't a day that goes by that I'm not sucking something up with my Hoover.  So to my friend in Maryland.  I get it.  I really do.  My vacuum is completely, and totally in overdrive.

80s Leggings and a Bit of Bling Bling

Peter and I love all things 80s.  The music, the gaudiness of the clothing, the hair, dreaming of a Trans Am.  It is a time that is part of the essence that makes us, well, us.  It appears that our girls might have an affinity for all things 80s too.  Recently we received a large box of hand-me-downs with some sweet shoes in them that were very reminiscent of styles from our childhoods.  When we opened up the box and Nina and Jocelyn discovered the Sketchers shoes, Converse style, covered in psychedelic graffiti and fake rhinestones (not to mention they twinkle with every step), they were hooked.  Combine these little shoes with the leggings from their first birthday that they refuse to take off, and they come pretty darned close to looking like poster children from the 80s.  Perhaps I should add some pink and purple highlights to their already erratic, spiky hair?

When I sorted through the boxes, Samuel and Ethan were crazy about the shoes and titled them the "bling, bling shoes."  They would put them on and take them off of Nina and Jocelyn and encourage them to run around the house so the little lights would twinkle.  The next morning when I had everything boxed up and sitting on the table so that I could get it put away, pass it on, or wash it, Samuel noticed the bag of shoes and sobbed, "Mommy!  You have to keep the bling, bling shoes!"  I was definitely keeping them, they were in the keeper pile.  Why not?  They are adorable and who knew that hot pink, sparkly shoes would entertain all four children longer than a Disney movie and a bowl of popcorn?



New Years Resolution: Simplify

Thank you, Peter, for my wonderful Kindle Fire.  It was a lovely Christmas present.  You were right, I was wrong. I truly love it.  It was one of the most perfect gifts for me that I've ever received. 

One of the very first things I read on my Kindle was a book by Joshua Becker titled "Simplify."  While always sort of a minimalist (very loosely speaking) at heart, this book really resonated with me, and then I really spoke to Peter.  And spoke to Peter.  And spoke to Peter.  To the point that when I say, "Hey!" to him, he responds, "What do you want me to get rid of now?"  Over the last several weeks we have dumped and dumped possessions from our house.  Sadly, aside from the overly large china cabinet that no longer stands sentry in our dining room, you can hardly identify what's missing.  Which means we have a long way to go.  The kids have gotten on board as well, because they've recognized that at the end of the day, there just isn't as much to clean up. 

We're already seeing so many rewards from this new lifestyle. 

• We have more family time together already because we aren't cleaning and sorting and organizing all of the time.
• We aren't buying junk.  So we're helping the earth a bit, we're leaving a little more cash in our wallets, and there is less to pick up and trip over.
• Our house just looks cleaner already, because there isn't cluttered piles anymore.
• And we feel free. 

The simplification process hasn't just stopped at possessions.  We are simplifying our commitments and social schedules.  We are starting to really identify what is important to us, because we are innately busy just by there being four children.  And in the midst of all of this, we are finding we are less stressed already.  What a great way to start 2012.

So...if you find you are in need of something...give me a call.  I might be willing to part with mine, if I haven't already.