Happy Birthday! You're mom is not Betty Crocker!

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Happy Father’s Day! I hope you all had the equivalent of waffles, sausage, and lots of hugs. Yesterday I went to a sealing session and thought about all the blessings we have as families and how it all starts with one couple dedicating their lives to the Lord. As I watched and listened, looking in the mirrors, I felt overwhelmed by all the people who have made it possible for us to have the life that we do. I begin to appreciate how much you do and have done now that Wesley is a father. I see the sacrifices of time and body and energy—and I just didn’t realize it all then. Thank you for loving our moms, working for our protection physically and spiritually, teaching us the gospel, and believing in our potential. I’ve never had a difficult time believing that Heavenly Father loves me because I always knew that my dad loved me—no matter how stupid I was. So often, personal revelation has come to me because of the tender counsel of our parents. Thank you!

As a side note, I learned that in a live sealing the kiss is part of the ordinance. Cool!

Speaking of fathers, we’re training a bunch of fathers-to-be and turning our house into a mini MTC. On Wednesday the boys went to a park (with three slides!)  while I went to the ultrasound for Joule. When the ultrasound began, his little spine curled against the screen image. Then he flipped right over: I didn’t need a technician to tell me he is a boy! I admit some relief. I’m just not emotionally prepared for our girl. Lincoln repeated, “BABYBABYBABY!” and both he and Levi loved the alien pictures. Levi told us all along that Joule is a boy. Levi wants him to “come out soon. In Tex” and can’t wait to feel him move more. I fell asleep reading Levi a story this week; Levi cuddled up and rubbed my tummy and talked to the baby. After about 15 minutes, he kissed my cheek and said, “Wake up, Mama! Baby Joule asleep!”

The doctor says that Joule looks practically perfect, but he measures small. To ensure that he’s growing at a consistent rate, we’ll have another ultrasound in August. During the last few weeks he’s grown, but not enough (probably due, in part, to my issues with food). I’ve been praying to be able to stop being whiny and selfish and just eat more. The pain I’ve had for the last few weeks increased after I began these prayers. It finally hit me yesterday that my prayers are being answered! My body stretches out to make room for his weight. So, every time I groan now I think about how blessed I am and how God listens to our petitions.

Levi turned three on Monday! WOW! Our oldest little dude, so “big, big, BIG!” When he woke up, he stretched, “I three now!” (which changed throughout the week to “I still three!”). He ran to the table. Disappointed. He looked for the cake and candles so we could “make fire” rather than presents. Yes, we have boys. We blew up balloons, opened gifts, and he chose corn dogs for dinner (to Wesley’s delight). We celebrated by going to a new park and eating lunch there. Kids crowded the playground; Levi and Lincoln mostly stared in awe as they ran around and yelled. Levi helped me build his fire truck birthday cake. The frosting failed in color and texture, the cake fell apart—but it tasted okay! We wrote his name and the number three on it. Levi spells his name very well. He loves seeing it. He loves labeling with it. “L-E-V-I! Mister Joe Levi!” Levi loved it. He brought his toy fire truck to it, “Match!” then told me how a fire truck came to our house last week and matched his cake. He opened the fridge door then danced out his joy in front of the cake. So, I guess we’ll call my ugly attempt a success. We sang happy birthday all day (week). Levi sings along proudly. I love that. Thank you for calls, texts, and gifts. He’s been elated about it all.

The next evening we celebrated at the community center swimming pool. They have a kiddie pool section that ranges from one to three feet deep, a slide shaped like a frog (you slip down his tongue), spraying pipes, bubbling pipes, splashy stuff. They loved it. We stayed until Lincoln’s lips turned blue. He takes after my thermometer. Neither wanted to leave.

We gave Levi “Rory’s Story Cubes” for his birthday. Basically, it’s a game of 9 dice with different images on each. You can take a variety of rules. In essence, roll the dice, tell a story. So far, a big hit.

The boys keep us chuckling. They discovered the eye drops next to the saline solution. Both love the saline solution and apply it to themselves. Levi’s eyes have reacted to the smoke in the area, so he stared at the ceiling and experienced the wonder. After he moved, Lincoln sidled up to his place and stared at the ceiling. I put the lid on and pretended to give drops. This has become a daily tradition. Despite differences and squabbles, they’re friends. When Lincoln woke up today, Levi ran in to say, “Hey, Buddy!” to which Lincoln snorted and grinned. I call the boys, “mister” and “sir” (who knows where or why…) Levi now beckons to “Mister Linc” and “Mister Peter”—he even slurred a “Mister Dad” the other day.

We traced Levi on easel paper (in hopes of making Father’s Day cards…). When we finished, Lincoln plopped on the paper and lay completely still until we finished tracing him. Levi trained Lincoln to put the clean utensils away. Lincoln takes this chore very seriously—to the point that I can’t load the dishwasher because he starts putting everything away! On Tuesday, Lincoln ran to the bathroom, “Poop!” Levi squealed his encouragement. I held Lincoln on the seat for his first really big victory. I don’t know which boy was prouder. Levi will make potty training (whenever it happens) a lot easier.

Lincoln teases. He played with Levi’s dice. At clean up time, he held four. He gave me three, one by one. He reached out to give me the fourth, then pulled back. He unraveled over the hilarity of this. Every time Levi lines toys or piles books, Lincoln is sure to slip in and take one. We often hear screaming: “He touched my pile!” followed by Lincoln’s response: “Touch! Touch!”

While still bashful, Levi asserts himself strongly now. I had to work during Lincoln’s nap since I’m rewriting my class from square one. Levi ran to the balcony. The next thing I know he’s yelling, “HEY! HEY! HEY!” into the void. Pause, then someone below, “Hey, what?” Levi loved it. I entertained flashing images of my father warning us to be silent in hotels because there were people above, below, and around us and we needed to respect them and their privacy. Still, I laughed.

Wes and I have been chugging away in between. Each of our evenings has a specific work task to be done. I’m taking Grandma Wright’s advice and believing that when you can’t do something on your own, give it to the Lord and He’ll show you the way. In the meantime, we love life. We “hiked” one of the nearby mountains yesterday—“What are men compared to rocks, and trees, and mountains?”—the boys climbed rocks, stirred dirt, picked grass, and ran. Later we found sunglasses for them at the thrift store. We’re pretty cool riders.

Okay! Enough of this. We love you!

One girl and a whole lot of cute guys

 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!

From last week

After a week, we’re beginning to figure out a schedule. Wesley started orientation and work on Tuesday; he loves it. He is anxious to dive into the actual research issues (rather than figuring out the programs, places, etc.) yet has already enjoyed it more than anticipated. The people he works with are alive with ideas and excitement. His building is only two years old and the primary goal in its building was energy use—even before the people who would work there. The pillars are made from old pipes, the counters are ground sunflower seeds, everyone works in cubicles (including managers) with lower walls because they use almost all-natural light. Pretty cool. They offer yoga classes. Amazingly enough, Wesley doesn’t plan on utilizing these. As we settle more into the professional aspect of our summer, we’ll keep you posted.  The current report: awesome! Wesley entertains ideas of moving here permanently. I point to insanely high housing prices; he points to the mountains, weather, and fun mix of arts/science. Regardless, we’ll revel in our experience.

We originally planned (as in, for the last eight months or so) to purchase a van while in Colorado. This week we realized that we really don’t need one yet and it is wiser for us to wait until we return to Texas. This came as a bit of a surprise to us. We’re grateful for the knowledge we’ve gained and our opportunity to learn as we go. So—we were blessed to find a deal on a super nice bike for Wesley. To bike to work takes the same amount of time as driving. He now multitasks with his time—no extra workout needed! What a life!

                   

I’ve learned that electric ovens and I do not mix and that I have much to learn in terms of high altitude food prep. I’ve never ruined so much in my life. Thankfully, I’m not a big fan of food anyway. The food isn’t much different and the boys don’t care: depending on their moods they either eat or they don’t, no matter what or how it is. We did succeed in making banana bread in the waffle iron (no bread pans). Phew! A bit of hope!

Monday we attended the ward Memorial Day breakfast that the high priests and elders put on. We sang patriotic songs, ate, played horseshoes, and introduced ourselves to more people. Nice people. We love that the gospel remains the same everywhere and that people are changed and better as a result of living by it. We’re happy to be here. We just returned from dinner at one of their homes—she had a bird and a cat which the boys loved. Lucky us.

The boys continue adjusting. Due to lack of sleep, new routines, and new places they have been a bit more explorative and destructive. We fear they may pull out all of the blinds that cover the balcony door.

One of the benefits of living in a complex is the amount of motorcycles. Wearing helmets is not a law. Levi informs us that they’re all going home to find their helmets. Ha! Levi also protects us all. He’s concerned about staying close together, no one being left behind, and making sure Lincoln doesn’t wander anywhere with anything.

Levi is full of interesting and hilarious things to say. Usually he comments that he loves Dad and “no like Mom.” I’m okay with this (though today with melt downs and screaming and both of them refusing to let me hold them or help them into car seats and yelling, “DAD! DAD! DAD!” during Relief Society, I kind of wondered if the boys and I should put our friendship on hold until tomorrow…). They have a fully engaged and wonderful father—lucky me! But Tuesday while preparing dinner, Levi stood on a stool, wrapped his arms around me, leaned his head on my waist and said, “I love Mom soosoosoosooooooooo much.” Later, when Wes worked on his bike a little he commented, “Dad is strong like Mom!” That’s my boy!   

Lincoln loves jeeps, cars, dogs, climbing, and testing the skills of legions and legions of angels. I must shower before 6:45 a.m. if they are to survive. While I rushed through my shower Lincoln saunters in wielding a paring knife casually. No one lost a limb—I don’t know how aside from our angels. We introduced the boys to the pool (Levi was a bit wary at first). They love it. We stay until Lincoln shivers too much. We carry them back and forth in the water and they giggle. Lincoln dunks his head. We saw a pond later, dashed off running and yelling “POOL POOL POOL!”

Baby Joule dances. Almost nonstop. I brought the boys to my first appointment with the Colorado doctor. They listened intently to Joule’s heartbeat and talked about it all the way home. The entire staff swooned over the boys. Most people look at me like, “You’re having another one?” But once they look at our kids and how darling they generally act, they understand. Some days we’re grumpy (which is true for anyone) but wow we are blessed.