I had the marvelous revelation this week that I have been
living with outdated expectations; it is time to readjust my direction! I’ve
entered the stage of life where my “life goals” become a little vague because I
didn’t know what might happen: never, ever would I have imagined this life as a
young woman—even seven years ago would not have captured our daily rumpus. I am
so grateful and humbled to have my eyes opened. It will take me a while to
process and articulate this direction, yet I feel so much less frustrated with
things like constantly rumpled curtains or the ever unfolded/not-put-away
laundry. We’re a circus, complete with lions and trapeze artists, but we’re
growing together with the right priorities. Sometimes I’ve wondered if God will
allow people (me) to dive into complete insanity through doing the right thing.
I’ve concluded that craziness will probably ensue, but that as long as I’m
holding tight to His will that He will not let me drown. How will I learn to
swim if I’m afraid of touching the waves? How will I ever gain strength if I am
not required to use all my might and then rely even more on Him?
I cried a lot this week. Every time Levi got out of the van
and entered school I had to pull myself together. Then he came home and I cried
some more. Kindergarten is kind of kicking my butt. I’d rather go through
labor. Today in the temple I thought about how the Lord deals with me and my
imperfections and saw how encouraging He is. How He cheers me on when I make
even slight improvement. How He recognizes all the influences and struggles
(inner and outer) to a situation. How patient He is with me even when I’m
bawling, not listening, and flailing around. How He never uses His “mean voice”
even when I need firm correction. Levi has made so much progress. Levi prays
daily for strength to choose the right. He acknowledges his “off” days and that
it can be really hard to follow the rules all the time, to obey, to hear. Yet
he asks his brothers to pray for him, he asks us for reminders. And he truly
has a pure heart and expansive mind. He can run forever. He encourages others.
He wants to learn and improve. He’s been studying shoelaces and tying knots all
on his own. Talk about self-motivation! Plus he’s full of darling phrases such
as, “I could really use your help with…” I described a little of the Star Wars storyline—so we’ve transformed
into Jedi knights with light sabers. “Who am I again, Mom? Oh yes, Luke. Luke
Skywalker. Do we know any Skywalkers?”
Lincoln told me that he goes to school at our home and
that’s all he needs. He has been more willing during preschool time, so hurrah!
He drew letters in salt with his fingers, which was super cute. He wore his
suspenders most of the week because he’s a fireman. Thank you neighbor Dan for
wearing suspenders and inspiring this boy! We went to the free evening at the
children’s museum (right after school before Wes came home); they had a fire
truck inside with fake hoses and little outfits for the kids. Awesome! We drove
by a street that Wes, Levi, and I walked down when we came here for a writing
conference 5ish years ago; Lincoln informed Levi that since Levi was a baby he
can’t remember the moment, but “I remember that because I watched from heaven.”
He and Keller knocked down three batches of folded clothes. When Lincoln saw
how sad I felt he ran back to the room to clean them up.
Keller talkstalkstalks. The boys watched a “Wallace and
Gromit” episode. Levi often exclaims, “What’s going to happen!?!” Keller, with all the anxiety he could muster, kept
squealing, “Happen! Happen!” When the story-time lady asked him what color of
paper mitten he wanted, he pointed and proudly said, “Yellow.” My favorite is
how much he says “Levi” and “Lincoln.” He says “Nis!” occasionally—generally
she is “Baby! Ohhh…HI Baby! HI!” We checked out more potty books at the
library. He studied them diligently all week on his own. On Friday he pulled
his diaper off, peed in the potty, then came out with his “TURTLES” underpants.
If he’s still interested maybe we’ll pursue it more seriously. (Ah, potty
training, it makes us all talk even more about poop. Great for a thanksgiving
conversation. We’re attempting to civilize ourselves for guests. It didn’t
happen with the sister missionaries this week—aside from the three seconds they
used fire as a visual aid—so who knows if we will ever be domesticated?) He
also lives in the hat we bought last week. Even after pulling apart one of the
tassels. He won’t eat breakfast but he wants “crackers,” “COOOKIES!,” and
“cheese” all day. And then he jumps. Jumpsjumpsjumps. All day. Usually
with a ball. He climbs on the table and
jumps. He jumps at the top and bottom of slides. He jumps on my toes. He
clambers into Venice’s crib and pack-n-play to jump. He’s so scraped up, and
still, “Watch! Wait! JUMP!”
Venice will not eat if she is tired or angry or if she wants
to talk. She likes knowing food is available, though. We had a few totally off
days with naps—and she showed us how much she can scream. Thankfully that is
not normal. She started cracking up. Nissy can laugh so hard she squeaks. She
loves splashing in the tub, nursery rhymes (especially “The Grand Old Duke of
York”), and kisses. She loves music: already she dances and jives. She loves
books, even the ones about dragons, monsters, and weird superheroes, although
she prefers the ones with animals. And after being cramped in her seat, she
loves to stretch, sigh, and babble. Bless this little girl who sleeps most of
the night and smiles at us. Levi decided he’s only going to refer to her as
“Veni.” Forgive me for not wanting this to catch on!
Wes worked away as usual. He’s currently enjoying football
highlights. He played soccer with the boys at a park while I was in the temple;
I returned to four happy, happy men. He’s such a good daddy. When I put pureed squash in smoothies or
meatloaf or whatever else, he always makes supportive comments. What a trooper.
I adore him.
And that’s enough from us!






