October 20? Really? That sounds like the end of the month. Happy birthday Grandpa Keller! Happy birthday Hiram! We often talk about first meeting you on a hike in Idaho Falls. What a great addition to the family. We’re glad to have you!

Wesley has officially finished the bulk of his applications and happily anticipates a week of normal work: research, writing, teaching, meetings, research. A few new positions will pop up (like yesterday we applied to Purdue and Notre Dame), but the main chunk is complete. Hurrah for Wesley!

The days pass. When I reflect on what happened in the evening, I sometimes wonder if I even saw my kids and heard them in the midst of pray, feed, run, potty, run, scrub, run, read, run, rest, run, dinner, runrunrunrun, jump, scriptures, pray, runjump, bed! As a result we tried a new experiment this week, “Personal Time with Mom.” This means that I have 12 minutes with each of them one-on-one. If I was really cool, I’d do what the parenting books recommend about having them direct play—but that’s part of our outside time. So when we have our personal time, we work on the scripture we’re memorizing, talk, and go over some pre-k workbook stuff. It gives me a chance to cuddle and touch base. I know 12 minutes is nothing; yet, the other two have to sacrifice when one receives those direct 12 minutes. As of today, they think the sacrifice is worth it. Levi and Lincoln have been very good at playing with Keller so each can have personal time. Keller wakes up at 6, so we have personal time in the morning. D&C 64:32-34. Small things really do make the difference.

All week I’ve been thinking, a year ago, I was pregnant. A year ago I went into labor in the middle of the night and didn’t believe it. A year ago we didn’t know Keller. And here he is! Standing, clapping at his accomplishments. Grinning. Throwing his spoon at Lincoln. Holding liquid in his cheeks then spewing it everywhere. Signing for “tickle.” Waiting at the bottom of the stairs until we come to catch him going up. Imitating music, playing sound games. Grunting. Reaching for shoes so we can go outside. Climbing right on to Levi’s big wheel tricycle and joyously pushing backwards in circles (even after he crashed off of it).Turning his cream cheese frosted cupcake over to wipe the frosting off (he didn’t like the texture) before eating gingerly, avoiding the frosting as much as possible. Screaming. In ecstasy or frustration. He doesn’t distract easily. He likes milk from a certain cup lid. He likes to stuff a cracker or bread in his mouth while I spoon feed him soupy stuff. He does not like naps; particularly in the morning. I tell him to wait until he’s 16—perhaps he’ll change his mind! He’s had a little stomach bug. We finally took him to the doctor who reported he’s fine, returning to our probiotic should help. Phew! I watch him hustle around, pushing toys around so he can climb on them, then to the couch, then to the wall, then to…I watch him learn to communicate his loves: tools, slides, swings, motion, brothers. He loves Levi and Lincoln. I always hoped for adventure, I just didn’t realize it would be so fun and so different each day.

Lincoln jabbers with purpose. He chose to come with me to deliver a meal this week and talked the entire way. On our way back he asked, “Who made you, Mom?”

            “Grandpa Corrie, Grandma Stacy, and Heavenly Father. Who made you, Lincoln?”

            “I made me! With a hammer and a saw!”

            “You don’t have a mom and a dad?”

            “I don’t have parents! I have tools!”

It’s settled then. This was before Grandma Cole’s Northern Tool catalog arrived. It has been cherished, slept with, and carried everywhere. When we did our yard clean up yesterday, Lincoln unloaded Wesley’s wrenches and hammers to “cut down” dead branches off of a small tree while Wes did the large oak. So cute. One morning I found him staring at our FHE chart. “Where’s Chad?” I told him that the Longmores live in Idaho now. “Chad should come here. He is my friend.” We’ve had Chad stories almost every day since then. On Friday we went to visiting teaching conferences at the Relief Society president’s house. The boys went to play with toys. Lincoln soon returned with a huge plastic sword and a stick. He poked my arm. “I cut your arm off. I’m going to kill you with my sword.”

            “We don’t kill people, Lincoln. We love them and protect them.”

            “I’m going to kill you with my sword like Ammon!”

            “Ammon was protecting the sheep and his friends.”
            “I am protecting my family. And now I will kill you with my sword!” Oh, good grief. I couldn’t keep a straight face. I laughed. I don’t want to take the hero out of the boy, I just want him to be civilized and loving!

Levi has mastered 2 Nephi 2:25 and his sentence for the Primary Program. I didn’t help him at all with the latter. In fact, he took his little sheet and put it neatly in one of his folders. He’s tried very hard to obey this week. We’ve had a miracle in the last month that he understands the power of language and asking nicely (thank you, speech therapy!). Generally, he asks directly and politely for his needs and wants. It has also helped his self confidence and self-sufficiency; he knows that some things he can do better than trying to direct us in the way he has it envisioned. What a huge relief. With confidence and brotherly encouragement come more adventures. Our neighbor came over to talk outside for a minute. Levi and Lincoln disappeared in the garage. I heard clattering, then found them on top of the van with sticks. Levi had bonked his head and cut his ear a little on the garage door. Lincoln was reaching to “fix” the motor for the garage door opener—electricians in the making? How many angels were sweating over that one! When any of them decide to concentrate on something, there’s little I can do: pray and try to intervene. He wants to be a good student like Daddy. He spent a half hour focused on tracing shapes, letters, and numbers one day. Another day they played with play dough the whole time I made dinner. Miracles happen every day.

Clothing options remain an issue. It took three hours for Levi to dress on Monday. We decided that we all had to be ready for the day before breakfast to prevent that from happening. Saturday he just skipped breakfast as he searched through all of the long sleeved clothes (it dropped to 50 degrees one morning! Not a big deal for you, nearing an ice age for acclimatized Cassie). Lincoln prefers to sleep in his clothes, then changes six times night, day, and in between. Monday I gave up trying to help Levi with his clothes. Keller had screamed much of the night and day and finally fallen asleep. So I showered. As I stepped in, Levi yelled that he’d locked the other bathroom door. A few minutes later, he’s yelling a huge story. I rush out in my robe (great example on getting dressed). Lincoln had needed to use the potty. The bathroom was locked. They ran downstairs, not to use the bathroom there, but to find the screwdriver to unlock the upstairs door. The screwdriver is usually on top of the door frame, so they planned to stand on the Cozy Coupe to reach it. Unfortunately, Lincoln didn’t have time and flooded the dining room. Levi instructed him to not move. Lincoln obediently stood in the middle of his draining lake. As I tried to contain it and clean him, a huge cockroach saunters through. So I swatted bugs and scrubbed kids and none wore much. Levi nodded in approval, “Way to not scream, Mom.” If only the doorbell would have rung. That would have been a great story. 

Our friend’s baby arrived early. My sweet, tolerant boys helped me prepare our box for her. They’re not LDS and don’t have family close by. I figure if I coordinate at least three meals for other new babies, I should for her. Levi, Lincoln, and Keller stayed strapped in the van while we drove there, hit traffic, and I ran a few meals in, then went back. They didn’t whine (Keller took at least a 15 minute nap that day. Whoohoo!) and they talked to me about how much we love Laurie, Eli, and the new baby. These moments when little angels speak to me, I understand how many prophets simply write that the words which the children spoke cannot be written. The Spirit they have cannot be feigned. I am so honored that Heavenly Father allows us to raise these little boys. I’ve joked that my goal in life is to clone Wesley. All four of them show me that there’s a much better way: we grow together with our own strengths. The gospel is about individuals within families—not labels or generalities. It is about loving people, loving our Savior, and trusting Him to show us the best way forward as we reach out one foot at a time.