projects and plugging along

We are plugging along.  Trying to get settled.  Our problem is that we are project people.  Seems like we are starting projects right and left.  And what is left is me feeling unsettled until the projects are done.  Our problem is only worsened by the fact that we are not finish people.  You know because starting projects, or better yet, coming up with the projects, is so much fun.  

But we are working on making our home our oasis.  I just redid my studio/craft room/hobby lobby and it is almost done.  When it is totally done, I imagine I will want it another way.  And so it is with the rest of the house.  Is there a name for this disorder?

Maximus is into projects, too.  He likes to start them and then move on to the next one, too.  He gets it.  He gets it from us.  Or we are just on his level.  He has started to stack things and line things up.  I walk around the house and find random things like my spools of thread lined up in the middle of the floor.  

He is getting more verbal.  Still wouldn't call him a talker.  But he is putting forth more of an effort.  Sometimes I don't like it.  Like when I am stretching his hands and he yells, "Stop!"  Or the saddest so far was tonight when Karl was stretching his hands and I heard Maximus yell, "Please! Please!"  He was begging Karl to stop.  And that's about the saddest thing I have ever heard.  

They said it would look worse before it looked better.  This may be the worse stage.  The scarring and the discoloring and the blisters on his legs are not a pretty sight.  These aren't colors and textures you usually associate with a little toddler.  The gloves and bandages hide so much.  

His smile and his happy attitude hide so much, too.  He continually cracks us up.  

 He makes other people smile, too.  He also had this look about him that says, "feed me."  At church, three different people gave him food.  Something about the way he is, you just want to feed him.  I totally get it.  

I want to hurry and get him healed before he get more aware.  I feel like it is a race against time.  I feel like we are losing.  He will be smarter next time.  I never thought smart would be a bad thing.  I guess he needs to get another surgery within the next year to release his thumb that is being pulled in by the contractual scars.  That makes me feel like we are losing the race against the scars.  

I imagined a more simple life when we packed up and moved to a small island.  But maybe it's time to come to terms with the fact that the word simple may never be a part of our family.  Projects will find us, adventure will find us, stuff will find us.

And maybe one day, just maybe, when I am sitting on my rocker sipping some ice cold lemonade, I will look back on these crazy days with fondness.   But the reality is that I will then start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, the rocker that I'm sitting on wouldn't look better with a new coat of paint, and that maybe my lemonade would taste better with a few mint leaves and fresh raspberries, and then...