Sweet potato face

 Looking at a bug on temple grounds

 Wes made the dog pancake.

I’m home with the little boys. The Teachers Quorum is teaching missionary lessons on Joseph Smith and the Restoration to pretend investigators. I was going to be one of those, so I’m a little bummed. Next time!

Lincoln has hay fever type allergies and catches everything; I don’t think his nose has stopped running since September. Sickness doesn’t faze him at all, though. Thursday his eyes looked sunken. The next thing we knew they were draining nasty green everywhere. Double ear infection. I had no idea. (I’ve said this before…) He didn’t complain about it. He continued jumping off of chairs, the Cozy Coupe, running, playing football and soccer with pretend shin guards, and just his normal self. Rather than having us move into the pediatrician’s office, Dr. Holmes did Keller’s follow-up when we brought in Lincoln. He’s clear, but on antibiotics for a few more days. I have a sinus infection I went in for on Tuesday and finally buckled to antibiotics yesterday as it seems to have morphed into something else, including eye gunk (which is totally nasty). We’re hoping Wes and Levi don’t catch it. Antibiotics rock, though. This morning we were clear enough that we could go to sacrament meeting. We all feel like we’re aborning. We’ll come out of it eventually! Miraculously, we haven’t really been debilitated. All that we’ve needed to do we have done—and more.

Thank you Grandma and Grandpa Cole for the doctor toys. Levi and Lincoln love them. I have a lot of instructions about being okay in the morning, getting sick at night and taking “One cup of medicine” (I guess we buy it by the gallon?). They’ve given shots, covered it with Band-Aids, taken blood pressure. Keller usually acts as the cheerful patient. Levi walks around with the stethoscope draped around his shoulders. I tried to convince him to rest the ear buds around his neck, but “Dr. Holmes wears them like this and I am Dr. Holmes.” Sure enough, we went into his office, and the stethoscope was draped over his shoulders. Way to pay attention! I let the boys bring their doctor toys to our visit, which distracted them from the real tools. Phew! He walked by the nurses proudly, who oooohhed and aaaaahed over his doctor get-up. Then I told them that he was Dr. Holmes—which made them gush. Of course.

The word “favorite” has suddenly become important. Levi told us that his favorite part about Friday was seeing Dr. Holmes. Lincoln ate ¾ of a blackberry container, “These are Lincoln’s favorite berries. These are Lincoln’s FAVORITE berries!!!” Wesley’s Rommel book is his “favorite.” Keller has told me in a variety of ways that sweet potatoes are his favorite along with nice close-up conversations—which is good because he’s always got brothers in his face. Food in general is a favorite for everyone. The boys discovered a love for mangos, homemade chicken noodle soup, and all things dessert. Lincoln is often so full he informs us that he only has room for breakfast and dessert.

Levi really astounds me. He’s been a missionary all week, serving in Ukraine. This morning he told us he’s going to sit by Uncle Royal in church since he is a missionary in Ukraine. “Two Elder Coles!” He was also “Lettuce Man” who is a “mean guy” that eats everyone’s food. Sounds mortifying, doesn’t it? Don’t worry, “Taco Man” saved the day and taught Lettuce one of his true purposes. (For the record, “Spinach Man” is a nice guy according to Levi.) When we made bread, I told him I needed five cups of flour. After I put in two, he said, “And now we need three more.” So we did a little impromptu addition/subtraction which he loved. (And I marveled. Maybe he’ll replace me on helping with our finances!) He led our FHE lesson/discussion on family rules and what we should do about it. We’ve got a while, yet family counseling with the boys just thrills me. I’m trying to teach him to say, “I feel overwhelmed” simply because it is easier and more accurate than “I am tired and hungry and thirsty and frustrated!” With extra people over every day, a couple of extra play dates, sickness, a few rainy/no outside days, he’s tried even harder to stay in control. Monday he cleaned the entire toy room (including every Lego) on his own, by his own initiative. He felt better after that. He’s been taking deep breaths; I think we’ll probably try guided meditation this week. It’s better than screaming, biting, hitting, and general cries for help. I want to empower him and help him articulate the situation so he can use his agency better. It’s amazing when you realize the things you can control—and when you know Heavenly Father will help you succeed!

While Levi serves in Ukraine, Lincoln serves in “U-pan!” and his “high school.” He serves in shorts, though. We decided to take the gradual approach to potty training with him a few weeks ago and it seems to be a good thing. He wears a diaper, but uses the potty. This week I heard some beautiful words, “I need potty!” so we ran. Completely dry days are so awesome for everyone. After he finishes he likes to jump off the stool, saying, “HUG!” Potty training can be such a happy time. He wants me to kiss him on the top of his head before I leave the room; he needs to kiss the top of Keller’s. (No wonder we’re all sick? At least we’re well loved!)

Keller grabs everything. He learned that he can pull my hair out of my ponytail or braid and eat it. He reaches for my plate and any food. He blows bubbles when he’s done nursing and splatters us both. He loves to roll across the toy room rug while his brothers play. And he rollsrollsrolls. Yesterday he charmed everyone we ran into at the temple. One lady practically followed us around the Distribution Center (we were even reverent!). Finally she said, “Can I just hold him for a minute? He’s just so beautiful!” He loves girls and smiles and teases them. We had friends over on Friday night for Pinochle. Keller decided not to sleep and we brought him down for a while. He cooed and talked and practiced his new sounds with Vanessa. Then he looked at Todd, tilted his lips upside down and bawled. Eventually he decided to make friends and charmed us all—before falling peacefully asleep. Between new solids and antibiotics, the poor boy has been a little constipated. Or he just likes to go at church. He must feel comfortable there.

Wesley works away. He’s almost done with his paper. Then he comes home and stabilizes us all. How would we ever make it without him? I feel a little giddy every time I look at him, even on T-shirt days when dinner may or may not happen and we have frosting all over from teaching a 6-year-old to make sugar cookies. He brings a feeling of peace, reassurance, and love wherever he goes. I’m grateful he chooses me! After a day at the temple yesterday, Wesley chaperoned “Mormon Prom” (4 stakes of Laurels and Priests who don’t have a chance to mingle that often) and then helped clean the building. He got home around midnight. The Energy Institute is going to collaborate somehow with a similar institute in the Netherlands. Dr. Edgar included him on an e-mail for input. Student exchange, potentially post-doc, is a possibility. Wouldn’t that be an exciting adventure! Anything could happen before we head out wherever we’re supposed to go in a year. Our life is the best kind of party!                                                         

I’ve decided I should start a series of books called The Survival of Lincoln Cole. It’ll be something like Lemony Snicket meets“The Sandlot” only ten times as fast. Bruises, bumps, and bites cover this boy. He jumps between “I’m a baby” (climbing into Keller’s crib and snuggling him) and “Do all by myself!” He fell down the stairs last week and scratched his tummy up pretty bad. What did this teach him? The lesson he gleaned revolves around how cool it is to go face first down the stairs on his belly. “I’m a snake, Mommy!” followed by “I’m stuck, Mommy!” A lot of things have been snakes, actually. He pooped in the potty every time except twice this week (and then he told me, “I just pooped Mommy…(grin)…needed potty!”). He thinks his poop looks like the snake we saw in a puppet show. Good grief. One day he pulled my bedspread off of the bed, tugged off his diaper, and—of course—peed all over it while shouting, “I’M PEEING!” joyfully. Last Sunday night he informed me he needed to go get his (toy) hamburger for his mission. He didn’t return. He didn’t return. Finally I checked on him. On route to the hamburger, he saw Levi’s carefully bagged and moderated jelly beans from Sunbeams (which he had generously shared with Lincoln, one at a time). He pulled a chair over from the dining table, climbed onto the kitchen counter, and shoved jelly beans into his mouth by the handful. Levi forgave him, even as Lincoln shouted, “NEED MORE!” While Keller was getting his four immunization shots and I had to hold him, Lincoln somersaulted off of the chair—almost into the table—and then pulled off a huge picture off of the wall, which barely missed landing on him. He also unplugged the charging station for the ear-checker-thingy. He found a fork in Wesley’s backpack and miraculously did not die when he played with it in the socket as I came running in (yes, simultaneously nursing. Of course. Don’t picture that too long unless you want to choke on your laughter. That’s what Wes did.). He’s been playing soccer a lot; his socks have transformed into shin guards. Mostly he just flies and leaps and bounds. And we, his awed associates, survive due to angels.


None of this is to say that his primary colleagues (Keller and Levi) have slowed at all. Keller is a whomping 16.8ish pounds who rolls, grunts, and cheers. He growls while he eats. I didn’t notice this, because he’s done it since he began, until one of the other moms in the mother’s lounge pointed it out. Very guttural and manly. As soon as he sits in his high chair he starts looking for the spoon and food. I think he times his blowouts for outings (but I’m prepared! Unless Levi used all the wipes to cleanse himself of all evil, which often happens). Despite the relationship hazard, he adores Levi and Lincoln: even when they spit (“zerbuts, Mom!”), clonk, stand, and rough handle him. Keller rolls over, sticks his bum in the air, and tries to swim through the floor. He’d like to crawl; it’s hard when you can’t quite sit up yet. Unfortunately, the poor boy still has an ear infection. We’re onto another antibiotic which will hopefully work.


At Keller’s doctor appointment, Levi stayed very close to Dr. Holmes, observing. Have I mentioned that he plays doctor and introduces himself as “Dr. Holmes”? This almost melted the man. Levi also sets up his dental practice daily. I’ve convinced him to use very soft plastic baby spoons as tools. He takes x-rays of my teeth, flosses, asks what kind of toothpaste I want. He walks around with floss in his pocket so he can clean his teeth as needed. He does “ninja stretches” which look like a strange mix of aerobics and yoga. He pretends to shower in all of his various jobs (because he gets “hot and sweaty and stinky like Daddy.” Lincoln pretended at the park, and stripped all the way down at the top of a tall slide). Sometimes he “pretends we are girls” so that he and Lincoln can go to the hospital and have “twin dog babies!” We decided it’s time to expand our play options; he now happily sprays the plants with a squirt gun. He plays with army guys. He goes golfing outside. He builds amazing Lego adventures, “This is for you, Mom!” He has also started differentiating life and dream. He walks out in the morning to tell me what happened. Lots of airplane dreams this week. He went to both sets of grandparents’ house and made lunch with them (between airplane play, does his mom only make food?). He felt a little overwhelmed when we had people over. He impressed me by simply finding a quiet place to color and cut paper without making a fuss. I’m immensely proud as this can be difficult to do for anyone. Yesterday he didn’t say much about Sunbeams until dinner. I asked what happened. “I asked Hannah to marry me and she said yes.” Oh? “We’re getting married in the temple,” he grinned like it’s happening sometime this week. “She asked her dad.” Oh, modern courtships.


Wesley had a really busy week. He attended two different conferences near campus, discussed the UT graduate program UT’s external advisory committee. He’s finishing up a paper that has turned into a longer learning process than expected (he thought he’d have it done over Christmas break…) and every day he comes home with all sorts of possibilities of what next semester might bring—since he’ll start applying in the fall. Dr. Edgar, his professor, recently became the head of the UT Energy Institute. He asked Wesley to be the main instructor for his “Energy, Technology, and Policy”course in the fall. Wes will probably also be doing some energy policy work with the Energy Institute. Next week is the last week of classes. Wes isn’t technically enrolled in classes, but he has gone to an energy course and a traffic course in different departments all semester. In the midst of all of this, he helped his Teachers Quorum organize a fireside for last night (we made two sheet cakes and others brought cookies. Any left? Not a chance. Wes didn’t even get a piece!). He got a new Quorum President and began training him last week. He and Michael are helping a new convert prepare for the Melkezidek Priesthood, teaching him on Thursday nights. And Saturday we attended an interfaith dinner at the Muslim Mosque. Our friend Talha invited us. We loved it! Such wonderful, devoted people. I can see why Satan would want to pervert a religion that could potentially lead people to the restored gospel quite easily. Levi and Lincoln had their first young woman babysitter. Keller came with us and exploded.


Last week and over the next two we are watching a 13 and 6-year-old in the evenings while their mom takes a refresher course in hopes of employment. I take everything in my life for granted. Structure, stability, love, work ethic, heritage in general, testimony, a knowledge that my decisions make a difference. We have everything; I hope we use it to help others who do not. I’ve been praying all week to see them as the Savior sees them and it humbles me. Sometimes I moan and groan and wonder about definitional hubbub (joy, progress, etc.) when if I’m patient and willing I’ll see that the Lord really is refining me one moment at a time. What a patient and kind parent. I admit, there have been many times I think He should probably just give me a nice swat on the bum! How can I be so happy and keep so much of it to myself?

 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.