Chutes and Ladders. Perhaps this will lead to Tide of Iron? (Wes hopes)

                           Watching thunderstorms.                                           Climbing rocks.

                            Chillin' in the amphitheater.

 Another classic park picture to match Gram Stace. 

Check out Joule's expansion! 

Life is very, very good.

This year we celebrated our second Independence Day under a burn ban. We enjoyed our freedoms without fireworks, colors, and loud explosions to remind us of the many sacrifices people have made and continue to make to create our country. The silence that night still reminded me of what we do to protect each other, care for each other, and the sense of community we can share even when we do not know each other and when we live very different lives. Instead of loud hurrahs, the stars sparkled over us in Colorado and the people prayed for each other. While fires and smoke raged on more people made sacrifices to continue supporting our country—even in small ways. I am proud to be an American. I know there has been (and will be) a lot of political hubbub (ha! understatement), particularly around the presidential election. Someone has to be partially crazy to even desire a position where others will automatically slander you for doing your best to serve to your greatest abilities. I don’t want to be the leader of a country, but I am grateful for those individuals and families who believe in our nation, believe in its improvement, and believe that we can work together. In the end, isn’t that what we’re made of? A bunch of slightly nutty people, deserting comforts and familiarity with great hopes and dreams that somehow—despite our opinions, traditions, cultures, and approaches—somehow we can and will work together? The fires have reminded me that even when I disagree with the political hash, they need my prayers; they need God’s guidance just as much as me, my family, and all of us.

Last week, our area leaders called for a special fast—including additional offerings and prayers—for rain and safety from the fires. We live at a distance from the flames, but the skies smear gray. It’s not even cloudy. Everyone coughs. What a wonder sunlight is. What a miracle glistening is. Temperatures dropped. On Thursday the true clouds rolled over us and thunderstorms began dancing. Since then, the days are cool and puddle; the afternoons wet. The boys plaster their faces up to the glass door and watch the drops crash, leap, jump. They shiver in delight at the thunder, stepping back at the lightening that feels so close (because it is!). Forecasts presume the storms will continue through next week. Again, we witness the blessings and miracles of faith, prayer, and endurance. We join our voices with the generations praising the gift of rain.

This month in FHE, we’re addressing some things to do during natural disasters. Last week we practiced stopping, dropping, and rolling for fire. The boys loved it—particularly when Wes rolled across the living room. Now when we’ve talked about the fire Levi repeats, “Drop and roll!” Tomorrow he’ll teach us about hurricanes and tornadoes.

We are finally recovering from sickness. Lincoln still glazes over. One night he didn’t sleep longer than 15 minutes at a time, poor guy. Another night he woke up crying. I walked in his room, he held up his water cup, waited patiently for me to fill it and return it, then he collapsed into his blankets clutching it as if it could bring him peace. Because he’s slowed down a bit, he discovered a few things, such as holding Levi’s hand. Joy of joys! When we prepare to leave our apartment, Lincoln reaches for his brother saying, “Hand! Hand!” which Levi responsibly gives. They then escort each other to the stairs or elevator. This darling, simple action alleviates a lot of screaming and panic. In the past we heard a lot of “NOOOOO LINC! Save Linc! No run Linc! Stay close Linc!”

This week, in order to share a treat with Daddy, Levi cannot spit or lick things. He tried so hard, finally succeeding on the third day after a ton of effort and prayer. I’m so impressed. It’s difficult to break a habit—especially one that kind of subdues destructive tendencies and when your throat hurts!

Despite not feeling 100%, they continue to Hokey Pokey in full energy. Even Joule gets into it and stretches all the way across me before spinning. Thankfully, Joule has decided he likes his indoor swimming pool for a while longer. No contractions and all growth this week.

Since Wesley stayed home for the 4^th, we took a teeny tiny family hike near the Red Rocks Amphitheater. Gorgeous. Our boys trooped right up the steep path. After Lincoln’s nap, we dashed off to a park to feed the ducks and geese. Who enjoyed this more, the domesticated fowl or our wild animals? We watched a petite brown mother duck chase off anyone who came too close to her 4 little chicks (Lincoln started singing, “Quack, quack, quack!”). One of the babies attacked a goose. “That one Linc!” Levi then went on to compare us all to the birds.

On Friday, Wesley went to University of Colorado in Boulder (a little less than an hour away) to meet with a professor who does research in his area. They met up, compared what they have been doing, and the professor offered to be on Wesley’s Ph.D. committee as well as giving him some good direction. We don’t fully understand the professor’s motivation, but we’re glad for his willingness and kindness. Wes is still figuring out what he wants to proceed. It’s nice to have so many intelligent people who share their expertise.

As a funny side note on males and females: Wes told me he still hadn’t thought about his conversation with the professor. I hesitated and had to process for a while. He had had a 45 minute drive in complete silence directly following the conversation. How had he not thought about it? Then I realized what had been running through his mind: Double line so I can’t pass. Oh, the speed limit just dropped to 60. There’s a white truck next to me…Perhaps I am surrounded by boys to teach me to do one thing at a time without distraction rather than trying to do five or six and thinking about something else!

The boys crack us up. Last night we couldn’t go to sleep because we were still laughing. When Levi wants some space, and especially when he wants to do something he shouldn’t like tip the vacuum over and sit on it or yank on the blinds, he tells me to “Go save Mr. Linc.” I call Wes Mr. Cole. I call the boys Mr. Levi and Mr. Lincoln. Levi picked up on this, so Mr. Peter needs to rest because he’s so tired and Mr. Lincoln has all sorts of needs and desires (whether he knows or desires it or not!). Levi’s new filler phrase responses are “Oh!” and “Okay!” This was particularly thrilling when we taught him to take pictures on the phone and push the OK. He said, “Oh! Okay!”

Lincoln lives his life disregarding Levi’s instructions—or anyone else’s. When we went to a park he yelled into the little echo-maker, then threw a rock in it. Of course it bounced right back into his head. This ticked him off.  So he did it again. He kicked it, as if to say, “Stupid rock!” This boy still loves rocks, though, I find them all over his clothes and cramped in his hands. If he had sandals I’m sure he’d try to grab one with each toe.

Lincoln mimics sounds constantly and has also tried the “Mr.” prefix. When we help Levi with prayers, Lincoln will pause and then sing along some words, ending with a great flourishing, “a-MEN!” Yesterday Levi wanted to say the prayer for lunch. It all started normally. Then Levi’s voice dipped a few octaves and became gravelly. So we heard, “Bless THE FOOD!” with all the gusto of a chain-smoking rock star. Lincoln then starts growling to sound the same. Finally, Wesley couldn’t hold in his chuckles and we both lost it. Levi finished his prayer and informed us that he was using an “angry voice.” We now use our varied emotion voices for things other than prayer. But, my, that food was blessed.