Yes. I really did go to a Bon Jovi concert. Without my children. Or husband. Weird.

 The garbage men. Lincoln's assists in dumping the cans in the back...

Mayfield Park

 Lincoln climbs in Keller's crib. I can't even go to the bathroom without inviting security issues!

Every Sunday I sit down to write these letters and think, “Wow! What a week!” but that’s just life. Awesome, huh! Part of me feels like I’ve entered a reverse childhood: the days feel packed and so long, but the weeks zip right by me and I’m left baffled, wondering where all my precious minutes and ideals went, hoping that someone learned something worthwhile and stabilizing, hoping someone felt the Spirit and I had the presence of mind to point that out. I appreciate the sealing power, understand how the “hearts of the children are turned to the fathers” and the “hearts of the fathers are turned to the children” a little more each day. We’re all so connected. What would we look like if we could see our little silken threads linking us to each other? What amazing spiders.

Happy birthday, Geran! Last night’s bedtime story featured you fixing our periwinkle Taurus in front of your parents’ house the day of your wedding reception. We told them about Wall-E and how you can fix anything, what a hard worker you are, and how you serve so well and so consistently. We’re grateful we’re related!

Happy birthday a few weeks ago to Kelly (we didn’t forget on the day, just in the letter!)! We still can’t thank you enough for moving us out of our Golden apartment down four flights of stairs and into the van. We couldn’t have done it without you and Diana! We’re thoroughly enjoying getting to know you and love your letter contributions. What a happy and understated riot! We’re glad to have you!

And while I’m celebrating: happy national poetry month! I hope you all scribble a poem in chalk on your sidewalk, send a poem in the mail, or at least read a poem. I read Leonard Nathan this week and recommend him. Lovely images. There’s an interview with the poet laureate, Natasha Tretheway on NPR (http://www.npr.org/2012/06/08/154566358/natasha-trethewey-poetrys-always-a-kind-of-faith). You could check it out.

On to the week.  (This is my longest period to write all week, forgive me!—no wonder my letters are so long.)

After much encouragement (peer pressure), I did attend the Bon Jovi concert. Loved it. I can’t believe I went. I even giggled a little and jumped to my feet. I admit it. Here’s a few things I learned: Our home is actually pretty quiet, technology can add or distract in a variety of venues, driving isn’t safe, and in 30 years or so, I hope I’m still enjoying and sharing my talents (rather than petering out) like Mr. Jon Bon Jovi. He hardly had any commentary just running and jumping and playing and songaftersongaftersong. I needed to get back to Keller and left early (not to mention that there were over 16,000 people there, most drinking, and traffic made me a little nervous…) All went great. Even when I went to the wrong parking garage. Ha! I’ll never be good with directions. Glad I went, and glad Wes did not. He would have hated how loud it was. The boys did very well with friends until Wesley picked them up after mutual. They played with the toy kitchen and made “sandwiches” (much better than the “snake-it-food” they made at the park and told me to eat, “Yum, yum! It’s good for you, Mommy!” said Lincoln.) Hurrah for all of us! We’ve been playing a lot of Name That Tune since the concert. We’ve sorted through our music to the delight of all of us, even with laughter of, “You would like this!” or “What is this?” The boys usually hum “I Love to See the Temple,” which makes me very happy. For the record, Keller is not a Bon Jovi fan. Not yet, at least. He hums along to hymns. Lincoln and Levi both want to play the drums. They’ve been drumming on plastic bowls, Legos, and the walls all week.

Last week we met new friends at the park. We met up with them twice. The boys both feel a responsibility to take care of little Eli (almost 2); it’s fun to see. Eli’s mom and I have interesting conversations, which is also very nice. I feel like we’re both ministering to each other a little. Tender mercies.

Yesterday we went to Mayfield Park. It is 22 acres of woods and gardens that you can adopt next to the river. Peacocks roam and yawp. We loved it! The day was gorgeous, the boys threw rocks and sticks but did not chase the birds, and nature just embraced us. I love spring. A girl had bridal photographs there. Levi loudly commented, “She needs to put more clothes on! I can see her back!” I didn’t realize his grasp of modesty. We tried to have another conversation on love and tact. (This is also following a grocery store point-and-shout, “Why is that man bald? He’s not old!”) After lunch, we watched one of Wesley’s young men play soccer. Lincoln started right out to the field, “Bye, Mom. Going to play soccer. On the team.” He shrugged, totally unconcerned with the fact that the boys are close to six feet and fast. We convinced him to play football behind us instead. Levi took note on their uniforms and needed more information about shin-guards. Keller gurgled and rolled on the grass.

Keller has started to chew on his binky; it’ll do as a toy. His nighttime sleep rocks (this week). He doesn’t nap much, yet he’s still quite happy. He wants to move so bad. He tries to pull his big, round belly off the floor—but we’ve got a while. He’s had a nasty cough and mucus for a while, so we took him to the doctor on Tuesday. Everything is fine except for a terrible ear infection in his left ear. We had no idea! He hasn’t acted bothered. Here’s one boy who can endure cheerfully! He loves his brothers without screaming. Wes found Lincoln standing on Keller’s tummy today, Keller grinning. How’s that for ab strength? How do any of them survive? Twice this week people have commented how much he and Lincoln look alike. I don’t see it, but I’m glad there’s a resemblance anywhere!

Lincoln pooped in the potty two days in a row. We’re hoping for a third. The poor kid is still sick, though. Not that he slows down unless forced. I’m home with him and Keller today. He conked out on our ride home from sacrament meeting, after shrieking “CAN’T GET OUT!” I told him that that was the point of a seatbelt. He continues to play “Flippy-flop,” adding cones and new rules. He sweetly runs for Levi’s blanket whenever there’s a problem, yet so often the problem is that Lincoln destroyed a Lego creation, ripped a book, took something, or simply screamed as loud as he could in Levi’s face. I transplanted some of our seedlings. Lincoln ripped our best tomato plant in half. He turned on the hose, sprayed Keller’s face, then tried to fill up the booster seat where Keller sat. (Keller giggled.) Good grief. Brotherhood and friendship plows onward. He vacillates between clinging to my legs, repeating, “Need Mommy, need Mommy!” and dashing off to meet big kids at the playground: “I play games with lots and lots of kids, Mommy!” He wants to sleep with all of his fake food. His bed looks like a dragon’s lair of junk, which he clutches. When I try to take anything away, he bats his little eyes and says, “For Lincoln’s mission! Need it for Lincoln’s mission right now!” He tells stories, he runs, runs, runs, and he carries his Gatorade around while he “works” at studying books.

Levi looks so big! I remember Rosey saying that four is so big and she’s right! I can’t believe he’s almost four—that he’s writing his name, starting to sound out words, moving so well, and thinking so much! He tells me that during rest time he’s teaching Peter that Satan is a “mean guy” and that “Jesus already won.” He’s been wearing jeans and polo shirts to match Wesley. He picked out Wesley’s outfit a few times this week. He tried to zip up Daddy’s pants and do his belt up, too (since he does it every morning for Lincoln, invited or not), but Daddy kindly told him that he would do it by himself. Hahaha! Levi has a sudden love for salads. He ate a big bowl of spinach with lunch a few times. Wow. We’ll take it! With all of this growth, he seems to need another outlet. Sometimes he just gets pent up and frustrated (don’t we all?) He bit Lincoln, who now has a huge purple, teethmarked bruise. He takes full advantage of screaming outside (allowed since screaming inside is definitely not). He pretends to fight fires to protect me. He builds Lego houses and vans for me. He’s my little hero. He asked me to construct a gas mask and oxygen tank, like a fireman, for him this week. We tried; good thing he has a great imagination. We took dinner to someone this week. They waited in the van while I balanced it all in. When I returned, he informed me that he “waited so patiently even though you took a long, long time.” I love his questions and insights. I love his desire to help. I love the trust in and high expectations he has in us. In many ways, Levi raises the bar for all of us.

Abbreviated version: our life rocks.