Lincoln will only use the computer if placed at the table.

 So many reasons to be happy!

Crazy week. We just used up the last drop of our adrenaline. So I’ll just blurt it out from the beginning.

On Monday, Wes rode his new bike to work for the first time. After he left, Lincoln leapt off the bed into the desk (thankfully, the air mattress is really close to the ground). He bawled; this is unusual for him. Within a few minutes a huge, black goose egg grew out of his forehead. During the week we’ve watched it shade into purple and yellow and now it’s still a prominent bump and black. While we recovered from that adventure, Wes called because he ran over a screw that totally punctured his tire. We continued the healing process with Lincoln until we heard sirens in the hall. I opened the door to see smoke sifting all over and flashing lights. Levi threw on his shoes (and grabbed his socks for later), Lincoln held me tighter, we rushed down three flights of stairs with our scared neighbors and their pets. The fire truck zoomed up. The boys quivering dampened the excitement a bit, but the firemen waved and smiled. Turns out that we have new maintenance guys; something happened with the painting job…who knows? The firemen left within minutes. Potential fires really are a great way to meet your neighbors. I guess this isn’t the first time. Last time, the elevator almost exploded. Due to paint and smoke fumes, the boys and I adventured out to run errands—returning home with a memory foam, which has significantly improved our sleeping arrangement. Hurrah! Even Levi crashed in the afternoon.

That night we went to a specialty bike store because they’re the only ones who carried the tire for Wesley’s bike. We really got a deal on his bike. The tire cost half as much as we paid for the bike! Then we walked around the temple for FHE. Lincoln now says a semblance of “Moroni.”

We also learned on Monday that our close family friend has lymphoma. As always, I’m inspired by their courage and faith and ability to just keep plugging along with life even as they face decisions about chemo and radiation. I’ve spent a lot of time on my knees; I don’t know why I thought this friend was invincible—probably because their family has seemed that way when my family needed help—and thinking about them has made me more grateful for the Plan of Salvation and our ability to endure and grow together (especially in the horrific unknown). I’ve also been thinking about the many, many people who bless our lives and what a gift they are. There have been multiple times in my life when I’ve concluded that friends and making them are just not my strong point, yet people keep squeezing into my heart anyway. I’m so glad that they persevere through my hard heart.

Around midnight on Wednesday, Wes woke me up by saying, “Don’t you hear the sirens?” (No—that’s part of normal night life noise. Now if it had been Levi or Lincoln crying, sleep wouldn’t have been an option). Once I shook myself, I really can’t believe the wailing through the city didn’t rouse the boys and me. We had had thunderstorms that evening which kept Wes up. He looked up the reason for the sirens: tornado warning. Yes! In the mountains. According to the map, it appeared that the funnel cloud aimed right for our segment of town. So, we grabbed the little sleepers and headed into the hall. (My stupidity: “Do we stand in a doorway or something?” Wes: “No. That’s an earthquake.”) In a tornado, you seek interior, close to the ground, windowless, space. We’re on the fourth floor, surrounded by windows. The best we could do was one of the stair hallways. Lincoln awoke blissfully to see “Dad-DY!” and Levi excitedly narrated our “walk in pa-jams! At night! Dark outside! Noisy!” We sang songs and waited for the warnings to pass. Eventually, we returned to bed. Miraculously, the Levi and Lincoln slept. Joule had a lot to say and do. The next morning, we learned that the funnel never touched ground and that it never reached our county. What a blessing. We’re grateful for our safety; we grateful that we didn’t struggle grabbing what matters most.

Yesterday we went to the temple. It’s so close! Wow! We love it there. Then we test-drove a van. Long story abridged: we contacted people weeks ago when they were pre-selling their elderly mother’s 2004 Grand Caravan. She bought it brand new; its title was switched with an identical van on the lot. It has 37K miles, runs smoothly, and the only issue with it is a few dings in the bumper. When we prayed about vans, we expressed that we’d like one but that we felt we needed to invest our time in other things—but if it was right to guide us. This van fell into our laps. We have a written agreement to buy it, pending the arrival of the title. So—perhaps we’ll be proud owners soon! The boys adored the whole experience. As an interesting side note, the man also works at NREL. He and Wes started talking, glowing, and exchanging information. Wes will be paying an office visit to him in the future.  

In the midst of all of this, we prepared our talks for today. We prayed all week that we’d be able to communicate with the Spirit and feel charity for our ward members and prepare what they needed. I spoke on Mosiah 2:6 and “that thereby they might remain in their tents” wouldn’t leave me. So I did my best. Hopefully someone got something out of it. Wesley doesn’t write his talks out. He has about an index card amount of notes and goes from there remembering all he’s prepared and adjusting as needed. His topic was Mosiah 2:41. He spoke about keeping the commandments and how God prepares a way for us to fulfill all He commands (see 1 Nephi 3:7), primarily through Christ who is the Way. He speaks slowly, articulately, and with the Spirit. He impresses me because he does things as they should be done without hoopla.

This summer I devote my evenings and early mornings to rewriting my class. I’m under contract to do it—plus, if these lessons aren’t complete by October, I know they won’t happen. Poor Wes with his distracted wife blabbing off about writing prompts when we really do have other things on our minds! The balm of this has been editing Grandma Wright’s journal. Her sensitivity to others, on both sides of the Veil, her generosity, her broadmindedness inspire and strengthen us. And we’re not even that far into her 1978 journal!

Wesley loves NREL. Currently, he’s developing software that integrates optimization algorithms into energy simulation software for buildings. He knows already that he doesn’t want to spend his life developing software, but he’s learning cool stuff and will potentially take it to a level that is more interesting to him personally. He found out that they have an NREL Frisbee group that meets three times a week during lunch. Add in his feeling every morning, “Ah, those birds make me feel like I’m in the mountains—wait! I am in the mountains!” and he’s a very happy man.

 The stake put on a fiesta last night, complete with professional traditional Mexican dancers. Can you say “entranced”? Perhaps our boys have found their new professions.

While eating lunch after church, Levi paused dramatically and said, “I want a kick in the pants!” Well happy birthday tomorrow—maybe he’ll get his desires. Silly boy. He’s been learning to count down to his birthday. “I be three in three months! No days! Three days!” And now it’s tomorrow. I showed him his newborn pictures and Lincoln’s and a few pregnant pictures. He responded. “Baby Joule come out soon. In Tex.” Tuesday, Levi blessed us by saying his very own evening prayer. He’s grateful for Nina, Peter, and his “hap birthday.” I think we’ll end up with a fire truck cake, but he’s not sure because the dump truck and garbage truck options tempt also.

For some reason, Levi stresses about staying very close together when outside of the house. He screams. He squeals. “No! Wait! Come on, Linc! Come on, Linc! Stay back, Linc! No touch! No touch! Wait for Mom!” We all try to ease anxiety. Except Lincoln, who turns back and giggles then dashes faster. It’s hilarious: the problem is Lincoln knows that! Lincoln saw a small-ish jungle gym at the park, then ran to it shouting, “WHOA! WHOA!” At the park, he climbs to the highest slides and just goes for it; Levi climbs up, then climbs down—except when Lincoln will sit on his lap. After bath time, we diaper Lincoln as fast as possible. He came wandering back into the bathroom, pulling his diaper down, saying, “Poop! Poop! Pot!” We held him up there and he tried his best—succeeding with two drops. We’ll probably see how interested he is really while Wes is in Canada. We may just invest in potty training stuff and jump on the opportunity. We took Lincoln to nursery today. The nursery leaders told us to drop him off, but I feel bad doing that to them when he’s not technically old enough. He’s going to adjust quickly. Trucks! This boy can find a truck and grumble it around for large amounts of time.  

The boys and I attended a library story time for the first time this week. They loved it—so it’ll probably become part of the general routine of walks, parks, songs, and books. They made little friends (funny since Lincoln’s favorite word of the week is “HelLO” and we met a little boy who loves “GoodBYE!” so they greeted and parted for about 5 minutes). We came home with 21 books—Levi can tell you about all of them, even the one on the Grand Canyon’s creation!

Joule spends a lot of time cramming my hip. The two of us grow bigger daily. Ultrasound this week!