Happy birthday to my brother! Every time I see a blue Toyota Tacoma, I think of you driving me to and from school and reminding me to be smart. I didn’t listen as well as I should have. And I’ll forever have a soft spot for basketball because you taught me to rebound to you, even though I never succeeded. I’m glad you’re my brother!

In honor of the Brigham City temple dedication, here’s a quote I found from President Packer:

                        No work is more of a protection to this Church than temple work and the family                            history research that supports it. No work is more spiritually refining. No work                               gives us more power. No work requires a higher standard of righteousness. Our                               labors in the temple cover us with a shield and a protection, both individually and                                as a people.

When I read this I was thinking about my home and how it should parallel the temple and how to help my children know the angels that support them and have paved their way. This could also be because we’ve been considering names for Joule, which always leads me to Helaman 5:6-7. We have such a rich heritage, physically and spiritually—do our lives really reflect that? How can we help our boys honor it?

The subject of agency has weighed on my heart for the last month or so. As individuals and as a people, we are not what happens to us but who we become as a result of our decisions and thought processes. I consider the amazing people I know, I watch my little sons, and I wonder about the choices we all make. I wonder how Heavenly Father feels when I do stupid things (I can almost hear Him patiently say, “Okay, Cassie, that’s your fourth check mark for the day with this sweet little boy of mine. No treat tonight. You need to earn that privilege back…”) Does He look at me and chuckle, hoping I’ll catch on soon? Most likely. Sometimes I think back on my experiences, simultaneously imagining the future experiences of my children. What decisions will they make? Who will they decide to follow? How do I best teach them and help them desire the best? Laman and Lemuel had the same parents and home life as Nephi and Sam and Jacob and Joseph, yet they chose differently. I take comfort that the future generations sought to help each other be reconciled to the Lord, from Ammon to Samuel the Lamanite. I am grateful for agency, but it takes courage to give it and courage to fully accept it.

On to the week! Wesley left for a conference in Wisconsin Monday morning at 4. He returned home Tuesday evening a bit before midnight. He presented some of his modeling research to professors, industrial professionals, and others interested in process control. Some offered him potential internships. He talked to a nice man who has worked for Exxon Chemical for about thirty years as they waited for their flights home. He answered Wesley’s questions for an hour. Cool. While travelling, he revised another conference paper and submitted it. Between the rush of last week, the conference, and the late hours, Wes has spent this week trying to recover. There is no “off” button to this boy, though—he just keeps plugging steadily away.

We feel like we’ve finally settled into the house. I still need to figure out a few picture things (we have so much space!), but we’re into life. Wesley has organized a group to meet for Saturday morning football at a nearby park. The sister missionaries ate dinner with us Friday. Tonight some friends and their kids came over for cake. We’ve concluded that dream homes have a play room. All the kids flocked to the back room with run-around space and joy; the adults actually talked (and could!) while safely monitoring from a distance. Fun, fun, for everyone.

Joule tries to break my water every day despite our encouragement to grow a little more. The ultrasound on Thursday shows that he’s a “wonderfully average size” and that we have nothing to worry about. Currently, he’s about five and a half pounds; he should be about seven and a half in the next four weeks. Not surprisingly, I’m already dilated to a one. The contractions have been hard enough that I’ve started to pack my hospital bag and talk to backup babysitters in case we need to rush off. I doubt it, but I like to be prepared.

Lincoln has been sick this week (still), in part due to the four new teeth he cut. Thankfully, we already have a doctor’s appointment scheduled for tomorrow. He won’t allow feeling less than 100% to slow him down, though. He shoved an entire macaroni noodle up his nose. We suctioned, tweezed, and prayed. Again his amazing nasal air supply blew the thing completely out. Good grief. I’m waiting for him to blow his eyeball out his nostril and laugh about it. Half of what he does is for the reaction. Levi tackled him in a panic when he put a toy in his mouth. Poor Levi almost had a heart attack and Lincoln couldn’t stop laughing. He watched Daddy mow the lawn this week, found some toe socks, and now wants to wear his “gloves” to use his toy lawn mower all over the house. Levi still prefers his eraser “ear plugs” when mowing.

Levi starts almost every phrase with “So—” or “Hey!” I hear “So—ABCDEFG…!” and “Hey! This is yummy!” Or, “So—Hey! My friends are upstairs. I’m going to get them. I’ll be right back. So…” (Yes, his friends still live quietly with us.) We bought him his own copy of the Book of Mormon for personal and family study, which he cherishes. He diligently repeats his verse of scripture every night. Since we’ve been doing this, his language has sped up surprisingly. He even approaches people, like cashiers, and asks questions. One of the unanticipated blessings of scripture study! Wow. Levi loves Joule. He watched and felt my belly ripple for a good 5 minutes in awe. “I did that in Mom’s tummy, too!” he told me. Then he followed up with “Joule likes me sooooooo much.” Both true statements.

Tomorrow we go to the doctor for well checks and in hopes of figuring out Levi’s sleep stuff: please pray that we can move forward to help him.