Burro Races: it's hard to look at a camera at a time like this. 

 

 Kissing the youngest brother. 

Yay, Royal! We don’t really care if you’re called to serve in the Idaho Boise mission or the Ukraine Dnepropetrovsk; we’re totally buzzed for your mission! What a lot of blessings and opportunities you’ll have and provide by being able to speak Russian for the rest of your life. Wow! Aside from the anticipation of the Great Envelope Opening, we’ve been discussing missionary work a lot lately: primarily, how much we need to act on our covenants and step it up. We realized that this summer is kind of like a transfer on a mission. We don’t have a ton of time, but we have much to do and many people surrounding us waiting for us to open our mouths. Wesley taught Elders’ Quorum today (George Albert Smith, lesson 13 on sharing the gospel). He invited the group to talk in small groups about what they can do this week to be missionaries. Good stuff. We’ve concluded that the best way to support missionaries, prepare ourselves, and prepare our boys is to do missionary work now. President Monson says our experiences sharing the gospel need to be current. President Smith states that they should be daily. So! That’s our goal. The missionaries eat with us on Friday. I have full faith that by this time next week some miracle will happen and someone else will join us as well that day. Truth is just too exciting to keep to ourselves. And if we really want to run a mini-MTC, I need to make some adjustments to my perspective and actions.

And, Royal, I promise that I’ll control myself better when I write letters to you on your mission. They really will be more contained and less…lengthy! Alas, that promise does not apply to these letters. I assume you all skim and I can indulge in our immediate “family history.”

Wesley has been sick. He worked on improving his health. We’re all almost there. Levi’s nightmares and night terrors continue, though. He might have a sleep study before me (since I have to wait until after Joule arrives).

Another highlight of the week occurred when the mail carrier delivered Wesley’s new “Axis and Allies” game. The boys helped him arrange the pieces and I even began a turn or two with him. Perhaps we will be one of those families with a game out constantly because it takes 20 minutes to make one move and we only have so much gaming time in a day…The excitement drifts through our house and sticks to everything like the scent of morning bacon.

We are making friends. A girl in the ward and her 10 month old visited us on Wednesday afternoon. Levi very carefully shared his toys and Peter’s blanket with the baby. He tried to make sure everyone was comfortable and happy (not a surprise, but always amazing). Lincoln liked the baby, but wanted to “Hit!” and “Throw!” Again I wished I could interest him in all the Waiting for Baby books that Levi loves. We walked our friends home. This included going up and down steep hills, pausing at playgrounds, bathroom breaks, and sweat. We walked it again the next morning. Between those hikes and the immense amount of playground time this week, their little muscles are just worn out. Yet they keep going! We make Energizer batteries look weak.

Friday night, Wes expressed a deep, inner need to take our boys somewhere with “water so we can throw rocks.” Oh, I’m learning so much about boys. Saturday morning we drove through the gorgeous, pine covered, golden Rockies to Idaho Springs. We watched rafters, we played in a park, and most importantly they all threw rocks of all sizes and shapes into the river. Strangely enough, people and their donkeys swarmed the place. We finally asked about it. Burro racing: they load up the donkey with packs of water, food, panning for gold stuff, etc., and run next to their animal. No kidding. Who knew? There seems to be a following for it if you’re interested in joining the fun.

Some hilarious and wonderful moments:

Before church today we asked Levi if he needed to go to the potty. He very seriously responded, “I have no pee inside of Levi.” Well. Okay then.

We(s) set up an obstacle course through the house for Levi to release some energy. Is it bad to fear some types of male bonding and joy?

Breakfast prepares us for the teenage years: Levi eats a bite or two, then states he’s all done and must be going. Lincoln eats at least an entire bowl of oatmeal, finishes Levi’s, two servings of fruit, and then dips into mine and Wesley’s. He’s starving for a snack an hour later, which is when Levi considers eating something while moving. We try to snack outside.

Levi shocks me with his compassion and great ability to feel for others. Sure, Lincoln bugs him occasionally, but he is deeply concerned about his brother’s safety: from not climbing on tables, to locking doors, to teaching him how to use playgrounds—I’m so impressed and proud. I love watching his confidence increase. Figuring out his independence on slides and ladders, etc., carries over into other (less physical) aspects of life. He trusts himself and he trusts us to care for him. He doesn’t trust us to care for Lincoln, yet, though. He often scolds us, “Go get him!” or “Hold his hand!” Or the usual, “Save Mr. Linc!”

Joule took a (significantly) longer-than-usual nap on Wednesday morning. He didn’t move for hours; this has never happened with him. He naps, but even then he shifts and flutters and rolls. They all have moved in the womb so differently. I anticipate that this monkey will join the brother business without difficulty, though. I told Levi I hadn’t felt Joule move, so Levi kissed my bulging belly and said, “Wake up, Baby Joule!” A few minutes later, Levi asked if we needed to go to the doctor. Thankfully all is well.

Lincoln loves Wesley’s deodorant. Usually I can keep him away from it, but on Monday I turned to the garbage can for two seconds. In that time he covered his entire face and arms. We smelled one well deodorized boy all day! “More! More!”

Lincoln may play professional athlete someday. When he runs his right arm sticks out straight and his little left arm crooks up and propels him forward. If he’s not panting, he chants, “Gogogogogogogo!” He throws. And throws. And “THROW!”s. Last week, he grabbed the van keys in the midst of self-checking out our 20 library books. All seemed innocent and well until the last three books, then clangclankthunk/”THROW” and the keys collapsed somewhere under the triangle of tables and computer cords. A kind passerby helped me move the tables and waited while I scrambled under and searched. This week, Lincoln found my glasses case (without the glasses, thankfully!), ran to the door and chucked them off the balcony! After he throws anything, he looks at us so proudly and triumphantly. Particularly when he finds something “bigbig!” The distance covered doesn’t matter so much as the force he exerts.

I went to the doctor this week. Perfect heartbeat. Good growth. I found out that the smallness was within the margin of error for the ultrasound (now I know!) and he only looks about a week smaller than expected. So we all grow and develop. Our little scare earlier in the week increases my gratitude for every little movement.

I walked out of a store with Lincoln balancing on the side of Joule in one hand, Levi carefully clutching the other hand, and a lady asked, “Are those boys both yours?” I nodded. “God bless you!” At this point she noticed my totally cool belly button sticking out of my shirt. “And you’re expecting another one!” I told her that we’re just doing what we feel we’re supposed to do and we’re happy to do what is right for our family. “Oh, honey. God bless you!” Oh, He does.

I can’t believe the miracle of our children. What blessings.

Love you.

The Whole Cole Crew