Happy birthday to David tomorrow! Wow. 16! The boys’ favorite bedtime story is “David getting baptized.” So, multiple times a week we tell them about the pure blond boy who chose to go down the stairs into the font to be baptized by his big brother. In all the important ways, you are still pure with good desires and wise choices who follows our Savior and knows Him as an older Brother. We’re proud of you, David.

Here’s for Diana: I miss choir! We have sang in choir for 5 years before church. Our last leader was phenomenal, not only because he was musical. He chose pieces that resonated with the Spirit, that we could work and improve on together, and that unified us. He prayed for us. And he kept practice to the 25 minutes before sacrament meeting. People started coming to hear us practice before prelude. Singing brought the ward together in a special way. It really enhanced my personal worship. This ward has choir early evening for an hour and a half. It’s no longer feasible for me, but I’m glad people go. Hurrah for choirs! Hurrah for Diana!

Last week Levi came beaming out of Sunbeams. “I asked Hannah to marry me and she said yes. So we asked her parents. They said yes.” Hannah’s dad and Wes met at recruiting weekend to UT when they were considering grad school. We’re okay with the match, but we told Levi that he needs to work on going to the temple and serving a mission first. Levi’s keeps surprising us with words like “patiently” and “wicked.” Out of the blue, he asked Wesley today why we can’t remember life with Heavenly Father (Levi and I had this conversation sometime last week). He also started the lovely phrase, “I want to kill you, Mom” because he knows that “kill” is a mean word. I explained that then I would be dead. “I don’t want you to die. I just want to kill you.” Well. Good luck on that one, kiddo.  Despite his “mean guy” lapses, he’s a sweet boy. Our friend came over with her baby. Levi ran up the stairs, changed into missionary clothes, and dashed down proudly holding his Book of Mormon and Peter. He stood in front of us to give a talk, thumbed through the pages, then realized that he can’t read much more than “and,” “now,” and a few other words. He tucked his head, saying, “I forgot my verse!” and hid in the couch embarrassed. He rallied.

We’re potty training. Since Wednesday, Lincoln has been completely dry except with poop. “Lincoln do you need to poop?” He smiles, toots, and responds, “No. Daddy needs poop!” or “No. Keller tooted!” or “No. Levi needs a diaper!” He loves underpants, but he loves diapers (not being wiped, though). He doesn’t like having wet shorts with an accident. Accidents tend to happen right after Keller explodes. Of course. I’m spraying everything down and suddenly—silence—then, “Mommy. Wear shorts! Wear them!” The boy will wear nothing else. He successfully used the potty at the library, at Hobby Lobby, and at church. We still have a long way to go since I’m the primary initiator. He has complete control; I wish he cared. In the meantime, we play football, tools, and sing songs. He can sing most of “Choose the Right” on his own, along with other songs. He prefers playing football with a pretend ball. He likes me to be the audience who remains “very quiet” as he runs on the “field” (rug). His preference for things in a specific way increases: I must stand in a certain spot at a certain angle and say the right words (as provided) when I watch, I must help with his shorts but only so much, I must…the list goes on. So I laugh. Eventually he’ll grasp that he must stop screaming. We’re trying to distract him into singing instead. Usually it works. Sometimes he scream-sings and Levi starts screaming, “He’s hurting my ears!” Amazingly enough, this doesn’t help the situation. Especially since Lincoln enjoys it.

For two Sundays in a row Keller has happily squealed through Sunday school and then exploded. Today it was up to his neck in front and back. I’m not sure how he did it. I’m not sure how I wasn’t covered; tender mercy. Thankfully this week I remembered to put another extra outfit in the church bag. This was definitely a prompting and I am grateful for it (especially since his blanket, burp rag, and changing pad were covered, too!). He continued to serenade the congregation. He sings. He laughs. He wiggles, often turning a circle when he’s on the ground. People always comment on how happy he is—and it’s true! Even without sleep! He doesn’t really nap on Sundays. This week he skipped a few days of naps. And he’s still pleasant! Uncomfortable, but pleasant! Don’t be fooled, though. This boy is rock hard stubborn. As soon as we began the sleep-through-the-night process in earnest, he refused a binky. We’ve tried 7 kinds (yeah…add that up in dollars, yuck) and he just looks at us like, “I know what you’re trying to do and I don’t agree.” He sucks on everything else, including my chin, when he’s calm. Good grief. He gurgles away and enchants us all. Levi and Lincoln pretend they’re tigers who eat Keller. This is one of the favorite games of the week for all three of them. Keller reaches his arms out wide like, “GET ME!” so they do. Ah, brothers. I feel bad that my brother only had sisters.

Book group and Wesley doing missionary stuff Tuesday, mutual Wednesday, projects Saturday. Wes attended a conference (at UT) and met a woman who is doing very similar work to him. At first this was discouraging, but as he looked into it, he found ways to make his model better. They had a nice chat. I finished To Kill a Mockingbird again. Such a gorgeous piece of work! I have no editorial comments. So life goes on. With all that stuff in between like dinner, dishes, life changing conversations. All that.