Joule and Lincoln

Here’s a question I’ve been working on: How do you slow down and listen? (I’d appreciate responses.) I reread the Young Women broadcast with other stuff this week and marveled at how focused conference and Ensigns have been on really hearing and responding to the Spirit. Such amazing promises accompany following the Holy Ghost—I’m a witness! Yet, I catch myself rushing through my routine and schedule and list of whatevers to do (however nonessential) and wonder if I’m brushing off small promptings. How do you maintain daily priorities and hear the “still, small voice”—particularly when life is far from still?

I’m tired and scattered. Forgive this letter. Joule’s contractions have intensified enough to keep me awake—which is saying something since I’ve nodded off mid-sentence during stories, dinner, etc. But, staying awake is sometimes better than sleeping so I can count contractions as blessings in the moment and in preparation for the arrival of our new little guy. So many people have told me about the third child being the “worst year of their life!” because of adjustments and not enough hands for people; I recognize that this could be true. We’re still so excited. In the words of one of the girls I visit teach, we need things to stretch us and help us grow. We’re eager to grow with our little group, acknowledging it won’t be all song and dance (although I anticipate a lot of that, too!). As of Wednesday, I’m 60% effaced and at a 2ish. We assume I’ll have to be induced again. Hopefully this time they can just break my water on the 22^nd or so and we’ll be in business. For the record, our top three names are Keller, Creed, and Zerin. He may not be any of those, though. Levi informs us that his name is Keller.

Funny, nasty story: a cockroach (think two and a half inches at least, rust brown, crunchy) scuttled into the kitchen through the garage last weekend. I squealed. They make my stomach turn. The next day, we accidentally left the door open and a two more scurried in. Our hero in Dad’s armor squashed them all. The next day, he heard the scratching feet of a cockroach in his office—another near three-incher. They lost him. Later, he felt something climbing up his pant leg…yep, inside his jeans. Thankfully, no one was there. He grabbed the filthy critter, pulled his pants off, shook them out, and chased the rooster-fish to its demise. Much to our relief, all of Wes is still intact! Yuck!

We went to the temple yesterday. I doubt I’ll be able to make the trip again before Joule’s birth. The boys played with the acorns, sat in puddles, and jumped in the van. Through the rain, Levi watched the Moroni statue and told us that he took the trumpet in and out of his mouth. Deep breaths.  When Levi saw a picture of the temple at church today, he stopped, pulled me over and said, “We went to that temple yesterday!” Lincoln heartily agrees, “Mnriu!” (Moroni) “TEMP!”

After the temple, we had the opportunity to pick up a new sister for her baptism. This is the first baptism the boys have seen live. They loved it; I was glad to get to know this new member and her kiddos. I stayed for the RS broadcast: awesome stuff! Still pulling my thoughts together on that.

Monday was our long-awaited doctor appointment. I admit a little disappointment. I didn’t want to hear that my child is warped as far as sleep habits, but I do need some help. Maybe sleep isn’t the issue. Maybe we need to focus on something else. I’ve kept a 10-week sleep log with awaking times and all of that (Wesley averaged it all out and graphed it, of course). Looking at the averages, Levi gets a decent amount of sleep. Ten hours is not bad. But he cycles, waking up ten minutes earlier every day until he crashes. He wails about being tired. He’s listless with dark circles under his eyes. He has nightmares and terrors. He screams out in the night at least once every ten days. Hours he might have, but quality? I don’t know. The doctor looked at the graph and basically said that it sounds like he needs a nap every day. I know that. We do rest time, which he’s finally starting to get good at (once the timer goes off, away he goes too!). But, usually we separate the boys for naps. The doctor suggested making the process as close to bedtime as possible and coordinating the nap time and place. So we’re trying that for a few weeks. If we don’t have progress, he said to call again and we’ll go from there. Levi did collapse for two days—but he was also up during the night and then awoke super early for two days. Lincoln has slept less during naps and night. Good grief. I know we’ll figure this out eventually. I struggle with my patience though. Otherwise, the boys are nearing average percentiles and healthy, healthy, healthy. Hurrah!

In other boy events and news, we went visiting teaching at a park (since there were 12 kids combined with the three of us). We watched the kids of Wesley’s work friend who hooked us up with this house and they colored, played basketball, and jumped into the Hokey Pokey. They asked every day since then when we were going to meet more “new friends.” We bought produce in a Bountiful Baskets type approach this week, which means we have tons of spinach; the boys love spinach smoothies to our surprise and delight. We are almost done with the Halloween costumes (fire men with trucks made out of cardboard). How will we make Joule into fire? (or, as Levi says, “FI-AH!”). We enjoyed story time and the library with a stuffed bear bigger than me; Lincoln mauled him happily. I’ve been giggling over the conversations the boys share. Usually Levi commands and Lincoln teases. Levi, “Don’t climb on that Lincoln! It will fall on you!” “Hey, Linc. Don’t climb on the table!” “Don’t grab the knives they will hurt you!” as Lincoln climbs, runs, and laughs. During our attempted nap today, Lincoln figured out how to take his clothes off. All of them. Levi came out to report. When Levi’s rest was over, Lincoln started screaming for “DADDY!” and there he is, naked. He crawled out of the top of the onesie we buttoned under him. That’s determination for you.