Dear Family,

Rosey sent me a book called Loving the Little Years: Motherhood in the Trenches. The author writes that there are some words we use to excuse ourselves; I use the word “tired.” But, hello! Who isn’t tired? People still maintain emotional control and do a lot of good. So pull it together, girl! Other realization of the week: I tend to verbalize (everything) my personal inadequacies and insecurity, particularly about motherhood. People can interpret this as criticizing our kids. I must stop. Back to the Lord’s definition of success and working on Wesley’s birthday present to stop criticizing myself. Glad to know I’m not working on this alone because I couldn’t do it.

In the midst of this, I received an e-mail from a well-meaning stranger chastising me about reserving temple names. Poor Wes and my crying. He always seems to find me praying in tears. (I do want to blame my over emotional self on sleep deprivation, but that’s still using a crutch, I’m afraid). It’s a long story and it turned out well thanks to the 24-hour rule I learned in graduate school (never respond to an unkind or hasty e-mail immediately; wait at least 24 hours to think it through and pray for compassion). During our exchange I wondered how I would feel praying with her in the temple. I realized that I would be very happy to do so and that I was actually grateful for her willingness to seek correction (see Captain Moroni and Pahoran—except I lack Pahoran’s level-headed, non-emotional grace). This made me review my life and my relationships. Is there anyone that I wouldn’t be comfortable praying for or with? What a sweet relief to see how the power of the atonement has changed me so many times and helped me develop a greater love for others.

We attended the temple on Saturday. I love it there. We both did sealings, separately, and spent time in the Celestial Room. I was the only one there. The cloudy light filtered through the blue and green stained glass. The shadows even had a twinkle about them. I looked around and prayed and thought, “This is wonderful, and peaceful, and I love it here (and it’s really nice to just sit for a minute!), but I need my family here for it to be truly Celestial!” Heavenly Father teaches us this so well since He wants us all to return to Him. When we drove away Levi called out, “Goodbye, Moroni! We come back soon! We come back soon!” (Levi also told me he’s going inside the temple to get married. He wants to marry Peter because he kisses him; married people kiss. I explained a few things. 1. Peter is a dog—boys don’t marry dogs. 2. Peter is a boy—Levi will marry a girl.)

Wesley gave a presentation at TWCCC (Texas Wisconsin California Control Consortia) on Tuesday. He showed some of his work, “Analysis of Thermal Storage System in a Smart Grid Environment,” (now doesn’t that sound exciting!) and how he’s connecting a bunch of energy things like thermal energy storage with turbine inlet cooling and solar among other stuff. He did well. This conference is mostly for the students to give industrial people a glance into their research so they can connect. A guy from Praxair (in Buffalo, NY) asked if Wesley might be interested in interning. He sent a resume. We’ll see what happens, if anything—there or in Golden.

Later in the week, Wesley gave an abbreviated version of his presentation to a man who taught them how to give top quality presentations. He came home pretty buzzed and enlightened. Now Wesley has a lot of specific things to work on to become a better presenter. Anyone who has had to sit through boring PowerPoint presentations would benefit from and appreciate this workshop, according to my husband.

Nina and boys

Nina is moving next Saturday. She gave us her twin trundle beds (much to the boys’ delight—not to mention ours!). She has come over to our house every week for over a year. We visited her the night before Lincoln was born. We’ve watched her independent humility and gratitude as she progresses on with Parkinson’s, difficult family situations, and the wears and tears of age (she’s in her mid-eighties). Levi is still convinced that even though she’s moving far away, she’ll come to our house and that when we move, we’ll be right next to her. He’ll be heartbroken. I discovered this week when we went over there to find everything boxed up and stacked in her garage and car that we’ll all be heartbroken. Even Lincoln dashes up to her and hugs her legs. Good thing she has a cane.

Busy busy boys, scuffs and bruises among the toys, dance and sing and do their thing, until a happy insanity they bring. Levi loves singing. He sings the hymns with us and repeats the notes as well as the words. He sings the musical scale forwards and backwards and notices when I mess up (often). He and Lincoln adore the “Latter-day Prophet” song—my favorite is when he says, “John TAY!” and “David HOME McKay!” On Saturday he awoke at 5:30 singing. Loud. Lincoln soon joined him. They sang for a half an hour until Levi needed the potty. Then he went back and they sang for another half hour. Cute. And 5:30 is so much better than 2:15. Granted, the 2:15 morning he really tried to be quiet and go back to sleep until 4:45—which is really impressive for a two-year-old.  

Lincoln teases. He ran to Wes every time he came in the door, arms outreached and eager, saying, “Dad! Dad! Dad!” Then just as he reaches Wesley, he swerves and giggles. He eats all of his food, then finishes Levi’s. He had a doctor check-up from his ear infection/RSV, waving to everyone and practically turning his head for them to look into his ears. I don’t think I needed to hold him. He loves puzzles now; figuring out how to put the pieces in the holes is such a challenge! I often walk in on him reading books, flipping pages, finding animals, kissing the animals. During Sacrament meeting today, he kissed pictures of Jesus. Later he “patted” Levi’s head and we redirected him to kiss. So funny. (It reminded me of seeing one of my primary boys walk out of Sharing Time with his brother, their arms around each others’ shoulders, comparing pictures, etc. They’re 14 months apart and don’t even look related. Much like our boys.) Wesley calls Lincoln The Wandering Man because all day he laps the house, climbs the chairs, moves the stool, climbs it to reach door knobs and lights, moves toys, throws balls, and wander wander wanders. He resists the off button for as long as he can. Wesley missed Sunday School to wander the halls due to our restless boy.

We love you. Come stay in our new beds and see our tulips blooming away.

Cole 4

I've decided to post our weekly family letters here for history, pictures, and because I'll never post here again otherwise. I open my computer to grade and to write family letters. So there you have it. Ta da.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Dear Family,

The boys keep me running and praying and panting. We realized this week that in the last six weeks or so Levi has gone from sleeping 14 hours a day to 9 hours a day. I’m learning to channel the destructive energy; usually I’m at a loss, though.

I turned my back for about two seconds to change the crib sheet and Levi pulled out all of the dresser drawers and tipped it over. Only with the help of angels did I spin in time to catch the dresser, drawers, glass lamp, basket, and humidifier and shift their direction from completely smashing Lincoln and Levi. They’re both unscathed. It scared me so bad I had to go in the other room and bawl. I think I shook for about 45 minutes. Levi followed me around, “Mom sad. Mom cry. It’s okay, Mom. No sad.” Later Levi took my face in his hands, kissed me on both cheeks and my chin, then announced, “BIG KISS!” Goofball. He seems to know when I’m at breaking point and can help me pull together. My dad tells me to just love him, be patient, and remember that this is not a power struggle. I guess he has distinct memories of being between 4 and 6 of watching his mom hand scrub the floors. He would go outside, stomp in the mud, then calculate: “I bet I can run through there before she catches me”—and then he would proceed to do so. Oh my.

The boys were finally healthy enough that we could leave the house (gasp!). Not to the doctor’s office! (although we do have frequent flyer miles there—they said we had a charge to our account last time, so we didn’t pay. I half wonder if that was just pity.) We went visiting teaching to a sister who has a young daughter, two mastiffs, a little puppy, a cat, and six donkeys. I think the mastiffs are the same size as the donkeys. Lincoln was transported into paradise. Levi squealed. We fed carrots to the donkeys. Levi even rode one. “Lucy donkey! Lucy donkey!” He loved her. Lincoln grabbed her ears and kissed her. Levi has been pretending to ride donkeys all week. Lincoln has often been the creature of choice. Poor kid. I finally convinced them to let Levi be the donkey. This has worked out much better. Lincoln can’t figure out why Levi keeps body slamming and sitting on him.

Lincoln did all of the motions to “Popcorn Popping” this week. He flicks his little fingers and shakes his head. He bounces in the chair. He also bounces all through singing time. He sings, but mostly he dances. And wanders. Levi took one nap this week (then didn’t go to bed until after 11); during that time I tried to play with Lincoln. He looked at me like, “Don’t you have something else to do? I’m busy.” So I left and talked to him from a distance and he talked back. He loves to sit by himself and flip through pages of books. So darling. He also explores everything: I heard a splish splash, ran, and found him happily playing in an unflushed potty earlier this week. He even pulled toilet paper off the roll, blew his nose (as taught by Levi), and twirled it in the water. Gag. No wonder we’re sick.

We moved the crib into Levi’s room. Now it is “THE BOY ROOM!” They’re excited. Lincoln cried the first night, disoriented, until I shifted him to have a better view of Levi. He calmed down and conked out. Hooray! While I moved stuff around, the boys found the baby monitor. Levi put one his shoulder, “Hi! Adoyadoyadoyadoy…ummmm…let’s see…..blablabla…come to our house soon! We live far away! Love you! Goodbye!” He called Gram Cole, Gram Stacy, Bodie, Spence, Morgan, and all of his “friends” whoever they are. He repeated the same message. Obviously, I say pretty much the same thing to everyone. We live out here—but come visit!

No one ever told me the satisfaction that comes from a power drill. Wow. I love it. I dismantled the crib and put it back together since it wouldn’t fit through the door. (Of course I’m smart enough to start this project while Wes leaves for a campout!). But we did it. Levi wanted to help. There were a bunch of big black screws and a few tiny nut pieces. Levi found those while I moved Lincoln. We couldn’t find them anywhere. Then we prayed together, searched all over, and prayed some more. They were stuck in a tiny hole. Another miracle. So amazing.

Then again, it’s a miracle we survive as happily and as well as we do each day.

I also started sanding our kitchen chairs. We bought a sherbet green paint and I’m sewing new seat covers since Lincoln eats the current wicker. They might not look good in the end—I’ve never done anything like this before!—but they really can’t look worse, so why not try. Both the boys helped sand and clean. Good helpers.

Wes gave a presentation on Monday to his group members. Tomorrow and Tuesday he presents at the TWCCC conference. Basically, a bunch of industrial leaders come, interact, learn about the students’ research, put their feelers out for potential employees, and make connections. Wesley will do great. He taught two lectures this week; the students responded very positively. Unfortunately, they have a test this week and the professor has not written the test or shown up for the last week—so even Wesley could offer little guidance. Good luck to everyone on that. On Friday, he stayed home to work. When I came down in the morning he had birthday presents set out. He gave me a Nook Color! I’m so spoiled! And excited. He played with the boys while I played with my new toy. I’m so spoiled. But very happy about it. The boys helped him pack up his camping gear, all the young men’s food, bikes, and other stuff and we waved goodbye. He camped with eight boys and three leaders at Georgetown Lake. The next morning they woke up and biked fifteen miles. They had a great time and even slept a little bit. That night it dipped into the low thirties—quite the change from low eighties. One of the boys brought the clothes he wore and his bike; not enough to keep you warm. But they lived and can now tell the tell. Male bonding makes me appreciate even more that I’m female.

After Wesley returned, we took our boys to our friends’ house. We went to dinner. They played with trains and blocks and pianos. Levi even learned to strum a guitar. They had a great time. It’s amazing how fast you fill up when you’re only feeding yourself! I forgot. I love spending time with my Wesley and then being able to come back to our sweet boys. Awesome awesome birthday. Thanks for all the calls, texts, cards, and fun. It made my day very special.

One last note: I’m really not one to push products, but here’s an update on my Sketchers ShapeUps. There were two days we ran around outside of the homefront and I wore other shoes. My feet and back ached terribly. Before these shoes I couldn’t sleep or sit or stand because my feet and back hurt so much—and now I’m pretty much pain free. They’re worth trying. Especially for moms. Wow. That’s all.

Much love.

WCJL

                     

Peanut Butter Cups (Here you are Tressia! I posted this on the food blog)

Filling

Mix together:

2 c. peanut butter

2 cubes butter, softened (margarine works, though)

1 lb. powdered sugar

Roll this mixture into little balls and flatten them slightly.

Melt milk or dark chocolate. (In the West, we just bought bulk chocolate from Winco, but we haven’t found it here so we just use chocolate chips. Not quite the same, still yummy). Do not use metal utensils on the chocolate! It disintegrates into a grainy lump. Plastic or wood.



Line a cookie sheet with small baking cups. Coat cup with chocolate. You can brush this on, but I usually just put a little spoonful in because I’m lazy and less aesthetic than I should be.  Place a PB ball in each cup, coat with chocolate. Let them set up in a cool place (not necessarily a fridge unless you must). Enjoy! And share: people will know if you don’t!



Levi in a huge puddle



Pop Cole and Lincoln

The backhoe we built

Lucy donkey and friends

How our walks usually occur

The boys' kitchen cupboard

Levi's firetruck

October: Potentially Creative, Definitely Trashy

 I love this face.

 Watching the garbage man.

 Another face I love.

 At the San Antonio temple. This was the day we drove and drove and found out they were closed for maintenance. Ha!

 Carving pumpkins.

 Levi dressed as a garbage man for Halloween.

 Complete with garbage truck.

 Nothing quite like disposable costumes. You can't tell, but Lincoln went as garbage.

And one day, I'll write again--but probably not on this blog! Might as well be honest. Oh dear.

We loved visiting Pflugerville Lake. Levi loved it until he tripped in the water--but gravel/sand castles distract anyone from discomfort. Nothing like swimming with minnows. It's been so long since I swam laps; I forgot how great that is. Lincoln sat on Wesley's lap in the water and splashed happily away.

The boys! 

Slithering

Books you should definitely read

The Wild Iris by Louise Gluck: Most deserving of the Pulitzer, the poems are told through the perspective of garden flowers with some vespers and matins interspersed so that you consider what it means to be in the likeness of a Gardener, what it means to grow, and our reliance on heaven and earth. Beautifully done and artfully progressive. Love it. I first read it about six years ago and thought, "eh, I don't know," but I finished it earlier this week and thought: "OH WOW." What was wrong with me before? This is why literature generally deserves a second try. I didn't appreciate The Great Gatsby until the third time through.

Glimpses into the Life and Heart of Marjorie Pay Hinckley edited by Virginia H. Pearce: One of those books that I love for the feeling and reality of the person. The writing is not meant to be artistic, but to clearly convey a life--which it does, so I'm satisfied. (Okay: we all know I'm a book snob, but if something fulfills its own purpose, how can you judge it by other terms unless to praise it? What frustrates me is when fantasy/cliched plot things pretend to be great works of art when they struggle with something as simple as syntax!)

Eats, Shoots and Leaves by Lynne Truss: I'm laughing all over the place and only on page one.

This week my dad officially retired from 27 years of working in the Idaho court system; he dedicated the last 18 to the Idaho Supreme Court as an administrator. Our family vacations included conferences to Sun Valley (I saw Oksana Bauel soon after her Olympics and almost toppled over), conferences to Couer d'Alene, conferences to Washington D.C., and family gatherings in southeast Idaho. I loved them. I loved watching the judges. I loved hearing about legislation. Until recently, I never really thought about the different perspective (politcally and socially) Dad's work gave me.

On Tuesday my parents attended their last conference in Sun Valley. The justices and others read their goodbyes: Mom called it a sob fest. Today, Dad started his job as a trial court administrator in Utah. He continues to work because he loves it (he might go crazy without it?) and now they're closer to my siblings, their siblings, their parents.

I thought I would feel weirder about this. I packed a bunch of books (yes, my parents still haul around part of my library and neither of us charge the other for the service) in May. The house is up for sale. And my kids won't remember my parents living in Idaho. Strangely, that's okay. I'm proud of my dad for the integrity he's shown, the work ethic he's taught, and his constant dedication. I'm proud of my parents for doing what they know is right even when it is inconvenient, scary, and new.

All of this has me thinking about my actions and how they impact my children. Will my yaywhos remember Texas? Maybe not. Will they remember potty-training? I hope not. But they will remember if they felt secure, loved, educated, valued. They will remember if we had fun and worked hard. They will remember if I lash out (even if they don't remember when I speak softly!). I don't expect them to be proud of me, but I hope they aren't ashamed. I pray they know I do my best and that I'm learning too. What do they see and what do they care about? Will they even analyze this before they parent and grandparent? Will they care that I'm the one who scrubbed the floorboards and made bread? Will they care that we read scriptures together and acted out crazy scenes from our imaginations? Will it matter to them that Wes and I memorize things like morse code so that they can be better, so that they'll foster curiosity and follow their passions? Will they feel how much we believe in them?

My parents told me a few days ago that you learn the gospel and then you have children to see if you can actually live it. They succeeded. Will I? By grace and mercy, I pray.