A Poem

I like friends.
Fun friends, good friends, funny friends are for me.
Me and you, we are friends forever, together.
We two are good friends, so do be my best friend.
I really like friends so much I could cry.
-J. D'arcy Williams

Their clothes say it all.

Let's be clear. He put this on himself.

Bookworm

Haircut, please.

Schroeder is two.

Schroeder turned 2 on March 27. As our pediatrician said yesterday, he's a bit of a peanut. That means he's short like his mommy. Here's to hoping he keeps growing until he's twenty like his daddy. Maybe we should have expected this when we named him after a peanut ;P. He's definitely my son. People often mention that he looks just like me. Yep, is my answer to that observation.

He's also talking. A lot. He can copy pretty much any word that comes out of our mouth. See my previous post. The other night in the car, Julian was telling us about watching the Know No Stranger skits (friends from church who formed a drama troupe) we had seen the earlier in the week. Schroeder kept saying Know No Stranger, Know No Stranger, Know No Stranger. It's super cute the first five times.

Right now he also likes Toy Story, trains, trucks, pretty much anything his brother is playing with, smothering Maggie Lu, going to "Gabe's house", making sound effects, getting hugs from his mommy when he's hurt, "guys" (referring to Lego guys, action figures, trains and cars with faces, etc), Veggie Tales, bopping his head in the car to Here Comes the Sun or anything on 92.3, picking up Daddy at work, buses (do you notice the transportation theme?), getting his shoes, jacket and hat on, breakfast x3, and jumping on Begbie's back and telling him to "go, dog, go!".

He is still my layed back little man with three small exceptions. He breaks down if he is too tired, getting teeth, or if I don't get his waffles in short order. Did I mention that kid likes breakfast?

Wow, it's only been two year since he was born, and now he's already a big kid and a big brother. He may not have had long to be my baby, but that boy sure has my heart.



Here is a piece of art that Schroeder refers to as "guy". He was very upset to leave the guy.




He refused to look at the camera. There were just to many interesting buses driving by.


He's smart. At least his mother thinks so. This dude can handle regular size legos already which I think is quite adept for two year old fingers.

Kids say the darndest things...

Now that we are in our home and getting settled, it's time to break my blog silence. I have many posts on my mind and heart, but I'll start with this sweet, simple one.

I was hanging photos and shelves on the walls of our home this morning. I was making progress. Then I hit a stud. I didn't have a drill which meant that my little screw wasn't getting through.

Me: Damn it.
Schroeder: Damn it.

I turn to give my little mimic a raised eyebrow which should be translated to "thanks for being around to mimic me in my finest hour". Schroeder throws his hands up, gives a little chuckle, and says "I talking."

Stress and relief.

Last night was terrible. We are trying to buy a hundred and ten year old home in downtown Indianapolis. Yesterday afternoon, I learned that our mortgage lender, USAA, was asking for some work to be done to the home prior to closing. I received this information via email and attempted to call our realtor and our mortgage borker. Neither picked up. I then phoned my husband who did answer. Our conversation went something like this, or at least this is what I remember of it.
S: Hey.
M: We just got stupid news from Vanessa.
S: Who's Vanessa again?
M: (Low Grumble) Vanessa is our mortgage lady at USAA.
S: Oh, yeah, ok.
M: She said we needed to ...
S: blah, blah, blah (making the situation look less than dire).
M: On the verge of tears. I'm done. I'm just done. I'm done.
S: You're done with what?
M: Everything.
S: Ok? Honey, I've got to go. I have a meeting.
M: Of course you do. (Hang up)

Let me translate. Of course you do meant, of course you do, you've been working for the last week straight and have left me at home with the kids and to take care of all this crap. What it didn't mean but probably should have is, of course you do, you've been working crazy hours to try to finish your current project and ultimately provide for this family.

I'm done. I'm just done. I'm done. meant that I'm sick of the constant stream of major events in our lives and the complications and stress that seem to come with them. I had just been thinking about the craziness of the past twelve months. Last March, my triplet nephews were born premature and didn't survive. Death in the family equals 63 stress points. Last May, we moved out of our house in Texas and into Stephen's parents home. Change in living conditions equals 25 stress points. We get along with our family but are definitely spending more time with them. Change in number of family reunions equals 15 stress points. We inevitably change churches. 19 stress points. I was pregnant. 40 stress points. That pregnancy eventually resulted in Stephen and I delivering Maggie Lu in our bathroom. Gain a new family member equals 39 stress points. We finally decided to rent our home in Texas. I will classify this as minor mortgage or loan. 17 stress points. Then December came. Christmas equals 12 stress points. Now we are trying to purchase a home. Major mortgage equals 32 stress points. My total is up to 262. According to Holmes and Rahe my risk of illness due to stress is moderate.

Ok, I'll concede that I was being a bit dramatic, but I was certainly feeling those 262 points yesterday evening.

But today is a new day. Nothing has changed. All of that has still happened, and the demands of our mortgage broker are still ahead of us. I had energy to face them today, though. Tuesday is my normal day to go grocery shopping so after lunch I headed out with Maggie Lu. We stopped by McDonalds so I could get a happy meal. We stopped by a Kid's Resale shop where I was able to end my self imposed spending embargo on a pair of shoes for D'arcy. I stopped by the car wash to vacuum out my car. As Maggie and I headed to Kroger, Coldplay came on 92.3. As Chris Martin sang, "Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be so hard." I thought, that's exactly right Chris. It was like the stress just started escaping from my body leaving through my tears. The sun was soaking it up. All of a sudden I was so grateful for the sun, for 92.3, for the sweet thing sitting in my backseat. I was thankful that I was able to spend part of my Sunday looking through paint swatches with my sister trying to find the just the right shade of green for Eowyn and Tessa, my nieces due in July.

Is it possible for the Holy Spirit to utilize Coldplay to answer my prayer for peace? I mean, Coldplay for heaven's sake.