schemper yearly update

Does anyone else wonder why Greg looks like Ursula the sea witch from "The Little Mermaid"?

I've been putting off writing this thing for a while. Last year, after blogging each week, this one, measly update almost wrote itself. However, despite my best efforts to keep on writing (though less frequently), ask me once how many blogs I've written this year.

You need to learn to mind your own business.

As anyone who attended my (and, I suppose I should include Greg's) wedding sixteen years ago knows, I don't like to do things just because of tradition. Who's to say I have to write a Christmas letter...or make my famous Sarah's Super-CD Sampler...or put up a Christmas tree? But when I suggested we have a Christmas ladder this year instead of a tree, the girls FREAKED out! (Even though I explained to them I'd put lights on it, and we'd set presents on the rungs, it's actually quite genius.)

I live with a bunch of traditionalists.

So, here I am again. And again, I'm proctoring the ACT test at Greg's high school. I guess nothing gets me in the mood for year-end reflection like 21 teenagers (one forgot his calculator, one forgot a pencil, and one asked me what an area code is) in one room. Greg is probably still in bed. Apparently I boasted one too many times about how I went to bed at 7:30 the other night, got eleven hours of sleep and have never felt better. So it's my turn to get up early on this Saturday morning. But you know what, it was totally worth it!

Kater Bate could be in this classroom next year, which is crazy to think. She is still sweet and accommodating, but even she has her limits. (Quite literally: Elia is only allowed to hang out with Kate and her friends at school for five minutes each day. And, apparently, there will be absolutely no Christmas ladders in our home.) Kate is comfortable and happy, and while years ago this is something I would have given my left arm for, now, dare I say, at times it almost annoys me. No, I probably should't say that. It's just there is a lot of fast talking and laughter over stories I don't quite get. But bless her heart, she's a delightful, beautiful, close-talking young woman. Kate made the worship team at school, and has an angelic voice that I just found out about when she was practicing for try-outs. She posts her perfect grades on the fridge (and asks that I don't recycle them for at least two days), wows her violin teacher, and would love nothing more than to buy or make a present for everyone she's ever met.

Kate has my affinity for lists and planning, and Greg's discipline. So, (unfortunately for me) when we decide to work out for 30 days straight, she actually wants to do it. My friend Emily and I threw our teenagers a Terribly Terrific Thirteenth Birthday Photo Scavenger Hunt Sleepover Extravaganza at a cottage last June. We were a hit. I mean, it was a hit.

I just learned that, up until last year, Kate thought "Craigslist" was "Greg's list" and was where I compiled all the things I wanted Greg to do. (In her defense, I do reference both quite a bit.) And, after her recent oral surgery to direct an eye tooth down, she excitedly said, "I am so glad they seduced me!" (Induced/sedated? In similar news, Elia thought "pervert" meant "crazy or tacky," which helps explain why she kept calling out "Perv!" each time we'd drive by highly ornamented homes.) So, we're still working on our English vocab, apparently. That, or we need an updated Sex-ed class. No worries, I'll play it safe and put both on Greg's list.

If Kate had to choose today, she would want to be a cosmetologist and an ultrasound technician, she wants to visit

England, and sing in the high school choir. And, perhaps most importantly, she's been looking forward to the fourth season of Fuller House, which came out on the 14th!

Lee is fearless. No, that's not entirely true, she gets nervous about stuff, but never lets it stop her. She's ballsy. Elia has my "I've just had a glass of wine so I can loudly say whatever I want in an accent" filter, and Greg's "anything is possible--if you can dream it, do it" attitude. This past year she tried out twice for the civic theater, started a babysitting business with her sister, pulled several adults aside to talk about important things, initiated, choreographed and taught a sacred dance at our church for twelve girls, stood up for herself in a written altercation with another six-grade girl, and pushed the limits with her sister (thus the 5-minute rule). Yesterday, after her violin lesson, she proudly said about her teacher, "I didn't argue at all with him today!" (What?! This might have something to do with the fact she thinks she can practice without her violin.) Elia will put her clothes away by shoving them all into one drawer, and then spend two hours ironing her socks and underwear.

Last spring E scored a 30% on a standardized math test, so we, of course, as caring, loving parents, started calling her "Thirty Percent." Honestly, we thought it was a fluke, until the fall when she stated proudly that she was "getting a 65% in math" and that's "so much better than 50%!" (True...). So, when her tennis season was over, she started seeing the math helper after school and got it back up to a B+. Elia wants to be as close to me as is humanly possible. Whether it's crawling into bed with me in the morning, hanging upside down next to me in an aircraft flight simulator where neither of us know who's controlling our mission and I'm begging her to let me hit the ejection button because I'm starting to get nauseated, or in her daily emails to me from school like this one:

Subject line: best and worst day ever

worst: My last pen died

best: I GOT AN A- IN MATH THAT'S AWESOME

love you

20 minutes later:

we need to go to target TODAY thanks

They're kinda like little poems I get throughout the day.

If asked right now, Elia would say she wants to be a delivery nurse. And have lots of kids. And live close to me so I can take care of them. Thirty Percent has got another thing coming...though if she asks me loudly in a British accent I may not be able to refuse.

G-Dawg's Schemper Productions LLC made a couple films this year. We (he hired the three of us) did our first wedding last summer, and then he donated forty hours of his life this fall to do a short video for Holland Christian. Greg still struggles with having more interests and talent than time, but, as he says, his balance is better than it's ever been. But then, turns out he's quite good at, howdoyousay, baloney. Last summer we went to a book club together, and since he'd only made it through the first chapter, I suggested he talk early on and fast. (Honey, he's not the only one who's good at baloney!) He was on fire. He nodded vigorously at people's comments, he pulled character analysis out of thin air, he corrected our friend Sue on the pronunciation of a French philosopher, and even treated us to a quick cultural lesson. Until he tried answering a simple question by asking us all to turn with him to page 82 (remember, he hadn't gotten past page 6) and read aloud a passage that had nothing to do with anything. The room was dead quiet. So close. If asked today, Greg would like to be independently wealthy so he can still teach, though part time, so he'd actually have time to write his screenplays and build his inventions.

Stella Stew (not her actual middle name, of course) is the best purchase of my life (second only to that black, faux-Eames chair pictured above). She is a cuddle-bug, a stress reliever, and my walking buddy. And

quite often, if you put your hand under her chin she'll fall asleep on it, which is adorable in a way no one else has been able to replicate (despite Greg's best efforts). While the timing of this purchase was less than ideal (the roof project purgatory, and two weeks before welcoming two international teenagers into our home), this bug-eyed baby is exactly what we all needed. I hate to be one of those people who goes on and on about their dog, but c'mon, isn't she the sweetest?! Except when she eats Molly's poop.

Molly Ball, the Ball of Moll, has come to terms with Stella. Kind of. Sometimes she'll sit on the other side of a door from Stella, and either lay there (which makes Stella think she can't come out), or poke her paw around to corner to bat at her. Molly has an attitude, but to be fair, Stella likes to lay down three inches from Molly's face and bark until Molly gets so upset she hacks up a hairball.

About once a month I look around and exclaim, "Where did all these animals come from?!"

We are hosting Catherine and Anny again this year--both are sophomores at HC. This fall they were part of the crew for our school's musical and are currently in Science Olympiad. They study a lot, seem to be thriving, and help fill our house with noise, and estrogen.

About once a month I look around and exclaim, "Where did all these girls come from?!"

I think the best way to get a clear picture of my life, is for me to write the titles of the blogs I considered writing this year:

1. Wakey Wakey, Eggs and SHUTUP!!!! (On how I'm not what you'd call a morning person.)

2. You'll Be Sticking a Camera Up Where Now? (On how I had to get a colonoscopy.)

3. So This Is It Then? How To Have a Proper Mid-Life Crisis In 12 Easy Steps (This is the book I've started. Well, this is as far as I've gotten.)

They would have been awesome.

Sadly, my work laptop crashed a few days ago, and the hard drive is encrypted so un-retrievable, which made me want to bang my head into a big glass window today. I was so frustrated that I tried going to bed at 7:30 again, but turns out that was a fluke. No one can go to bed that early.

If you were to ask me right now, I'd say I want to move to Indonesia. Ok, part of me wants to move, the other part of me doesn't quite know where Indonesia is. I feel like since the Fall, I've been in a season of re-evaluating everything but my marriage and my parenting style. (I'm sensing that I'm nailing those, no?) Greg, of course, would say that no one should be too comfortable to change, but then he's a glutton for punishment. I do feel like I'm starting to get bits of clarity, and that's a good feeling for this control freak. Don't worry, even I'm somewhat annoyed with myself for writing this, as there are people with actual problems, who would kill to be able to "re-evaluate" and have a "mid-life crisis." I'm just trying to be honest with you. Sheesh.

Well, on that note, I do hope you have a joy-filled Christmas with people you love! Greg will be singing Light of the World in our church on Christmas morning, and its lyrics seem fitting words on which to end the year and this letter.

For all who wait For all who hunger For all who've prayed For all who wonder Behold your King Behold Messiah Emmanuel, Emmanuel

Lots of love from Greg, Sarah, Kate, Elia, Stella & Molly Schemper

Greg took the girls (along with his parents) to Denver for Spring Break 2017 Baby! They went to see his sister Jayne, Brad & family, and his 97-year-old grandma.

Who wore it best? Kate and Miss Sonya, her favorite Sunday School teacher of ALL time (and please remember that I am on that list).

My dad and niece entering the flight simulator, right before Elia and my doomed expedition (AirZoo in Kalamazoo!). My dad did mention after he got out, "I'm never letting Avery drive again!"

Just floating in outer space!

I have no idea why, but G, E & K drinking out of moose glasses, circa National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.

Elia received nursing equipment for her birthday.

Kate loves to play around with hair-styles! (Elia asked for a Hermione Granger up-do.)

The fam.