Welcome Keller Moroni!

 Practicing for the baby.

 They wondered where Baby Joule was...

 Probably the best representation of our group...

I called Christine Monday. She told me we’d have the baby on Wednesday and I’d be home Friday. Make sure you pay attention to what she says!

Well. Let’s start with Monday. Since receiving the flu shot, the boys and I have been hacking our guts out. Lincoln’s nose hasn’t stopped its continuous green flow. It’s an ears, nose, throat issue that makes eating, sleeping, and breathing a little tricky. I’m grateful these are just “flu symptoms” rather than the full on flu—but on Monday when contractions increased in consistency and speed, I felt a little panicky. I had to take it slower which concerned the boys. Levi: “Mom need throw up?” Lincoln: “Mommy! Up! Up!” That night I felt my symptoms getting worse and I prayed that I’d be at least able to breathe through my nose and swallow so if we did go into labor I could focus, calm, and really breathe. I was overwhelmed with the feeling that others were praying for me, too. It was a very tender experience; thank you for remembering me. I started improving from that point on. So while we’re all still hacky, we have no complaints.

Tuesday looked like a normal day. I took it slow to be safe. Levi asked if he could watch “The Restoration” during rest time (we had just watched it for a home evening). As we set it up, he told me the entire First Vision story. Then he asked, “What Heavenly Father and Jesus do when They go back to the sky?” So we talked about all the work that continues. Such a lovely conversation with my boys. Later that day while I made dinner, I glanced over to see Levi and Lincoln leaning on each other to stand in tree pose. “We’re doing yoga!”

That night, as usual, contractions picked up. By 2 a.m., I couldn’t ignore them very well and did some yoga. At 4 I woke Wes to let him know things were different. I took a shower (because of course it would be horrifying for nurses and doctors to see me with hairy legs—that would be the thing they’d notice first!). I worried that I was overreacting in my excitement to bring our little boy here. When I had to start singing through contractions, though, we decided to call our friends to stay with Levi and Lincoln. They arrived at 6. Contractions slowed as we drove to the hospital. At 6:30 we were all checked in and at a 6 ½ and 90% effaced. But: my body follows a daily schedule. (I decided to do the epidural again because I know I’ll feel guilty for the things I will inevitably say, so I’m just going to stop worrying about that one for my next pregnancies. Wes jokes that it’s like choosing to flee temptation.) Contractions slowed until my water broke at 10:45. At noon my doctor poked her head in. I told her I thought the baby would be there soon. She checked and said, “You’re right. It’s time to start pushing.” At 12:08 [Wes: and after almost one push], our little boy was finally here with long fingernails, black hair, and a newborn rash—a complete miracle. And he’s an eater! Hurray! We looked at him for a while and just knew he was Keller. (Plus he was born on my great-grandma Annie Keller’s birthday around many other Keller birthdays). We’ve been trying to figure out middle name options for a while, but once we spent some time with him “Moroni” just felt right. We hesitated because it is Moroni, but we name our kids with a heritage and this is one he brought. Welcome Keller Moroni!

Wes brought the boys to the hospital that night. They were champs with our friends all day. Wes let them choose flowers to bring to me. All the Waiting for Baby books show the siblings bringing flowers; Levi looked forward to this for three months. Levi and Lincoln love their brother. Lincoln forgot that we’d been apart all day and went straight to Keller. “Baby! Brother! Keller!” I mentioned Keller grunting like a pig, which Levi found hilarious. “He sound like a little pig!” They both adore him. The third musketeer is finally here! I’m so glad that they can be together.

Friday, Levi woke screaming at 2 a.m. with an ear infection. Wes took him to the doctor. Then Wes rushed to give his presentation on campus while another friend watched the boys. Levi’s ears are doing better. Wesley’s presentation went well—he’s mostly glad it’s over by this point. Time to move on (this is the one he was supposed to give a month ago when the bomb threat occurred). That afternoon Keller and I were finally discharged. I set the flowers out prominently—they were gorgeous—but in the rush of leaving we forgot them. Levi and I both feel bad. Wes let him pick out some smaller flowers to bring home Saturday. What sweet men I live with. When we came home, Lincoln wanted to just stare at Keller. He loves being close to the crib. He whispers, “Keller! Keller! Baby Keller!” Levi has been trying to spell all of our names (LEVI and MOM come most naturally). They bring his binkie, get his blankets, kiss his head, and just adore him.

For his part, Keller stretches his eyes open (they’ve been swollen with liquid since he entered the world quickly), stretches his fingers, and only moans a little when hungry. True to family tradition, he has adventurous diapers. One of my nurses said he worked on a very musical diaper for ten minutes in the nursery. His little M-shaped lips remind me of Levi, but he has a look similar to Lincoln. Despite all this, he’s definitely his own person. He loves cuddling and going on little walks. The loud world of brothers doesn’t bother him at all (phew!). We’re grateful he’s here—even if we didn’t really believe he’d arrive for another week. We’ll take him now!

We have been blessed by wonderful nurses, doctors, and others. Our friends bent all over the place to help us. We are in awe at all we’ve been given. We’ve spent the last days enjoying our new family arrangement. My mom flew in last night and I’m on strict orders to move slowly; this is not too difficult when nursing every hour and a half to two hours. We’re all recovering well and can’t wait for you to meet our sweet new bug.

A note from Wes:  Levi has baptized his stuffed dog, Peter, about 8 times today.  He raises his arm to the square and says “I am Joseph Levi Cole and I am going to baptize Peter right now. Uh huh.” Then he lays Peter down under the “water.”  It’s pretty cute.

 Puppets!

 

One of the most significant points of the week: Wesley won the conference naming game for the second time in the history of our game. Granted, he only beat me by one point—which may or may not be fairly earned—but we’re all proud of him.

The boys and I got the flu shot in the last couple of weeks; so we carry around a mild flu and left church after sacrament meeting today. Bummer, but coughs, runny noses, and other joys are just not things to share with others. The goal this week is to get everyone well rested and better. Let’s not go into labor with all of us sick!

(Here’s the paragraph you skip if you’re uncomfortable knowing all the cool stuff about my body…) Aside from coughing and stuff, my body is mostly gearing up for this little guy to join us. Wes thinks that if I wasn’t induced I’d just be in labor until December—I’m inclined to agree. Contractions are totally awesome; I’m amazed at what our bodies can do. I’m amazed we can make bodies for other people! My doctor can’t believe we haven’t greeted him yet. I’m at a 2, 80% effaced, and his head is so low she had to shift him to find that much out! I’m scheduled for an induction on October 24 (happy birthday Royal!) at 5 a.m. if he doesn’t arrive before then. My mom flies in on the 20^th. I’m really hoping he’ll join us on the 21^st or 22^nd. We’ll see.

Levi just put his tie on, closed the glass door to the sunroom, and we all witnessed the baptism of Peter today. He raised his arm, immersed his dog, and practiced all that he’s seen John the Baptist do on the Bible videos. He tells us Peter enjoyed it so much, he might be baptized again next week. Lincoln watched with rapture chanting, “Baptize! Baptize!” Lincoln then told us he was wet, took the kitchen hand towel down and dried off his body.

We live in a magical world of pretending. Lincoln pretended to snore so we’d wake him up. One day I walked into their room and they “SNAP!”ped me because they were crocodiles (Lincoln’s idea, actually), and they’ve been loving the new castle guys from Grandma Cole. I can’t even begin the varied stories. Both of them become increasingly verbal: Lincoln has been saying things like “Read this book. PLEEEEAASE!” and Levi wakes up talking, goes to sleep talking, and even yells out with more language. We had a few friends over; I love listening to little boy jabber, even when I don’t understand it. One day Levi knocked his bowl off the table and it shattered, then Lincoln threw his plastic spoon and it broke, then I slipped with a light bulb and it crashed all over—they both had big stories for Dad when he came home. Wes taught them to say, “I love you!” I don’t think they fully have the concept, yet it’s a darling exercise. They also saw their first puppet show at the library. They danced to the background music, giggled at the audience, and delighted in the whole experience. They wanted pictures with the puppets even though it made them nervous. We’ve reheard (and seen) the gist of the puppet show since then. So fun. In addition, they’re such darling helpers. They rolled out gingerbread men joyfully with me for book group—and enjoyed tasting the caramel sauce.

Some of our friends welcomed a little girl with trisomy 13 and related heart defects last weekend. She died early Monday morning. When we found out, the boys and I prayed for them. All week I heard from the boys, “Their baby died!” After a few hours, Levi asked if Joule would die too. He’s been pretty concerned. We prepared them for the graveside service yesterday, coached them on reverence and not singing the ABCs, etc. They both listened amazingly well. I was glad that most people couldn’t understand Lincoln’s little voice, though, saying, “Baby die! Baby die!” I’m sick for the family (this was their first full term pregnancy), yet inspired by their faith.

Last night we invited people from Wesley’s group to join us in our traditional October celebration to carve pumpkins, eat homemade doughnuts, etc. One guy and his family are from Taiwan. They’d never done anything like jack-o-lanterns before. We pulled out children’s books for pictures and shared fun company and goofy kids. Lincoln loved teasing them with sideways glances and silly faces. Although not many people came, most of the doughnuts are gone. Call that a success.

I can’t fully express how blessed we are and the responsibility we feel to live worthy of such a life and heritage. Thank you for making it possible. We love you.

Cole 4 ¾

Happy Conference! Wesley and I read Mosiah 1-2 in preparation for conference and the words were written down afterwards. With each conference I’m more grateful for the upcoming Ensign so that we can study the talks. God expects us to listen intently, but He also appreciates that we care for our kids, that we’re mortal and miss stuff, and that sometimes we just don’t hear all that is being taught. Often I listen and think, “Hey—there’s the answer! What did he just say?” It’s wonderful to be able to continue to ponder them.

And happy, happy birthday to Christine this week! We’re so blessed to have you. We must have been friends in the pre-mortal life. After a lot of begging, God granted that I can have Wes, you, and your family. Sometimes I’m amazed that I still find more to ask for when I have everything! Levi told me more than once how you moved us to Texas from Colorado, then you moved back to Idaho after all of your work; he hopes you’ll move back to Texas soon. Lincoln reiterates with “GRAMCOLE!” They know and love their angel grandma.

We started and concluded the week with pecans. We know nothing about nuts (except that we are nuts), but we’re learning. Wes climbed the tree in the back yard and threw the ripe ones down (ripe when the green husks begin to split open). The boys and I gathered them up. Eventually, Wes acrobatically climbed the tree and scaled the roof—where most of the branches and fruit are—and threw down more. Later we did it again. This time, Wes used a ladder and I husked immediately with plastic gloves on. When you work with the husks your hands turn black. It doesn’t go away. Levi, Lincoln, and I wait for our skin to replenish itself so we don’t look greasy anymore. After husking pecans, you let them cure in the shell for a week or two. We’ve been drying ours out (a few sprouted because we didn’t husk them fast enough!) and will do our waiting. Then we shell them. That’s supposed to be the annoying part, yet we can’t wait. Hopefully our crop turns out! We tried one today and it tasted a bit too fresh, but still good.

At four a.m. on Tuesday, I thought my water broke. I wasn’t sure since my contractions, particularly at night, are normal and constant and since in the past my water broke in the hospital with extra help. We concluded I should go to the doctor just in case. I explained to Levi that the plug in the swimming pool Joule lives in might have been pulled. If the pool drained like a bathtub, then Joule would come soon. “And grandmas!” He was very excited for Joule and for Grandma Stacy to arrive. All that adrenaline and excitement to find that I simply lost control of my bladder. The nurse shrugged, “It’s practically impossible to control after one. I can’t imagine what it is like after three!” Haha! Thankfully it was only a small leak and didn’t even get on the bed (which may have bothered me even more than Wesley, sweet miraculous man). I knew I’d really lost it when my first thought walking away from the doctor was, “I made the bed and didn’t change the sheets! Ahhhhhh!” We learned a few important lessons: I need to finish rewriting my class before this baby arrives, we need to prep our boys a little more, we’re all ready to go if the time surprises us, and we have a lot of awesome friends willing to drop everything to help us. Since then, my contractions slowed down a little—as if Joule was saying, “I really am staying here forever! Get comfortable! Hehehehee.” Last night we went back to our normal schedule—with bladder control intact. What a gift these little babies are. What a crazy blessing our bodies are. How amazing that God allows us to create other people and house his children within ourselves and within our homes. I whine too much about silly inconveniences (oh, the awfulness of sore feet…blahdebladeblah!) when I really cannot comprehend even a smidgen of our blessings. Healthy, beautiful children. Again, how could I ever ask for more when I have everything? Wow.

Wesley continues to plug away. He finished and submitted a paper for publication. He gave a webinar. He shared conference calls. He planned. And he considered how to use his education to further the kingdom of God—since this is a topic he thinks on almost daily. I’d give more details if I knew how to explain it all and if you’d understand it! He’s 100% the best, at home, at school, at play! He has recently determined to learn the Jon Schmidt “I Saw Three Ships”—a difficult feat when helped by four other little boy hands!

We had some “5 sad face days” this week—meaning that Levi and I lost all of our privileges due to poor behavior. He’s back onto waking up ten minutes earlier every morning and no naps and dark circles and craziness. I’ve concluded that I can’t force him to sleep. We’re trying to focus on controlling our emotions and still making wise decisions. Sweet boy. He does much better than his mother. He screamed and jumped off walls and riled sick Lincoln out of a nap one day. We calmed Lincoln down, then Levi and I prayed together. Levi gave lots of ideas and prayed reverently with me. “We tell Doc Holmes I no need sleep on my bed. I maybe sleep on red couch, though. I no need rest. We tell Doc Holmes it okay.” Silly Billy goat. He finally fell asleep today after Wesley sang to him for a half an hour. What wonderful men surround me!

Levi has been pretending to bless and pass the sacrament all week. I didn’t realize how closely he watched those Priesthood holders until he ducked under his blanket on his knees, mumbled something, then passed “first the bread then water” to the congregation throughout the house. When President Monson announced that prepared young men can serve missions at 18, Levi shouted “I want to serve a mission earlier!!! EARLIER!” and Lincoln yelled “HURRAY!” Levi also wants to say every prayer. He doesn’t differentiate between being thankful and asking for blessings (a lesson in itself), so we often hear things like “Thank thee for Lincoln’s rash…” Today we were thankful for the crocodile on his quilt. Lincoln says Amen, but usually he claps happily and says, “HURRAY!” (also another lesson from the mouth of babes, as long as we’re celebrating worship and not its conclusion…)

Aside from their spiritual observance, both boys have been significantly influenced by the football highlights Wesley has shown them: tackling, pretending to be carted off the field, and putting on pads, and shouts of “B-Y-U!” have made a big part of our life lately. We’ve tried to explain to Levi that we can’t tackle Lincoln, even when protecting him (“No put ______ in mouth, Linc!”). He catches hilarious phrases from books and listening. In addition to the ABCs, we hear, “Today we dance in the bathtub!” (from King Bidgood’s in the Bathtub).

Lincoln jabbers and keeps us entertained. He says “Winckin” for his name now (instead of “VI!” for both Levi and Lincoln). We read an I Spy board book and he needed to kiss every horse and duck. He’s particularly fond of penguins—so we kiss those whenever they’re found as well. I showed him an Ensign I was reading. He found all the pictures of Jesus and tickled Him, joyfully. Just another way of showing love, I guess. Whenever Levi is sad, he promptly brings him Peter and the blanket. He spends his days with toy tools fixing everything in the house—from the dresser drawers to the kitchen chairs. He’s picked up on Levi saying, “HEY!” so now when he’s upset he says, “Hey, hey, hey, hey!” and he can’t quite figure out why he doesn’t immediately receive what he wants when he says, “PLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEAAASE!” When this kid decides something, there is no changing his mind. We can’t mention the possibility of a treat during dinner because he will stop eating and focus on getting that treat now. Or he sees big boys climbing on the playground and the next thing I know he scaled the rope bridge.

Come over. It’s cooled down to 68 today and we’ll share our party. Love you!

Four guys and a crazy lady

 Joule and Lincoln

Here’s a question I’ve been working on: How do you slow down and listen? (I’d appreciate responses.) I reread the Young Women broadcast with other stuff this week and marveled at how focused conference and Ensigns have been on really hearing and responding to the Spirit. Such amazing promises accompany following the Holy Ghost—I’m a witness! Yet, I catch myself rushing through my routine and schedule and list of whatevers to do (however nonessential) and wonder if I’m brushing off small promptings. How do you maintain daily priorities and hear the “still, small voice”—particularly when life is far from still?

I’m tired and scattered. Forgive this letter. Joule’s contractions have intensified enough to keep me awake—which is saying something since I’ve nodded off mid-sentence during stories, dinner, etc. But, staying awake is sometimes better than sleeping so I can count contractions as blessings in the moment and in preparation for the arrival of our new little guy. So many people have told me about the third child being the “worst year of their life!” because of adjustments and not enough hands for people; I recognize that this could be true. We’re still so excited. In the words of one of the girls I visit teach, we need things to stretch us and help us grow. We’re eager to grow with our little group, acknowledging it won’t be all song and dance (although I anticipate a lot of that, too!). As of Wednesday, I’m 60% effaced and at a 2ish. We assume I’ll have to be induced again. Hopefully this time they can just break my water on the 22^nd or so and we’ll be in business. For the record, our top three names are Keller, Creed, and Zerin. He may not be any of those, though. Levi informs us that his name is Keller.

Funny, nasty story: a cockroach (think two and a half inches at least, rust brown, crunchy) scuttled into the kitchen through the garage last weekend. I squealed. They make my stomach turn. The next day, we accidentally left the door open and a two more scurried in. Our hero in Dad’s armor squashed them all. The next day, he heard the scratching feet of a cockroach in his office—another near three-incher. They lost him. Later, he felt something climbing up his pant leg…yep, inside his jeans. Thankfully, no one was there. He grabbed the filthy critter, pulled his pants off, shook them out, and chased the rooster-fish to its demise. Much to our relief, all of Wes is still intact! Yuck!

We went to the temple yesterday. I doubt I’ll be able to make the trip again before Joule’s birth. The boys played with the acorns, sat in puddles, and jumped in the van. Through the rain, Levi watched the Moroni statue and told us that he took the trumpet in and out of his mouth. Deep breaths.  When Levi saw a picture of the temple at church today, he stopped, pulled me over and said, “We went to that temple yesterday!” Lincoln heartily agrees, “Mnriu!” (Moroni) “TEMP!”

After the temple, we had the opportunity to pick up a new sister for her baptism. This is the first baptism the boys have seen live. They loved it; I was glad to get to know this new member and her kiddos. I stayed for the RS broadcast: awesome stuff! Still pulling my thoughts together on that.

Monday was our long-awaited doctor appointment. I admit a little disappointment. I didn’t want to hear that my child is warped as far as sleep habits, but I do need some help. Maybe sleep isn’t the issue. Maybe we need to focus on something else. I’ve kept a 10-week sleep log with awaking times and all of that (Wesley averaged it all out and graphed it, of course). Looking at the averages, Levi gets a decent amount of sleep. Ten hours is not bad. But he cycles, waking up ten minutes earlier every day until he crashes. He wails about being tired. He’s listless with dark circles under his eyes. He has nightmares and terrors. He screams out in the night at least once every ten days. Hours he might have, but quality? I don’t know. The doctor looked at the graph and basically said that it sounds like he needs a nap every day. I know that. We do rest time, which he’s finally starting to get good at (once the timer goes off, away he goes too!). But, usually we separate the boys for naps. The doctor suggested making the process as close to bedtime as possible and coordinating the nap time and place. So we’re trying that for a few weeks. If we don’t have progress, he said to call again and we’ll go from there. Levi did collapse for two days—but he was also up during the night and then awoke super early for two days. Lincoln has slept less during naps and night. Good grief. I know we’ll figure this out eventually. I struggle with my patience though. Otherwise, the boys are nearing average percentiles and healthy, healthy, healthy. Hurrah!

In other boy events and news, we went visiting teaching at a park (since there were 12 kids combined with the three of us). We watched the kids of Wesley’s work friend who hooked us up with this house and they colored, played basketball, and jumped into the Hokey Pokey. They asked every day since then when we were going to meet more “new friends.” We bought produce in a Bountiful Baskets type approach this week, which means we have tons of spinach; the boys love spinach smoothies to our surprise and delight. We are almost done with the Halloween costumes (fire men with trucks made out of cardboard). How will we make Joule into fire? (or, as Levi says, “FI-AH!”). We enjoyed story time and the library with a stuffed bear bigger than me; Lincoln mauled him happily. I’ve been giggling over the conversations the boys share. Usually Levi commands and Lincoln teases. Levi, “Don’t climb on that Lincoln! It will fall on you!” “Hey, Linc. Don’t climb on the table!” “Don’t grab the knives they will hurt you!” as Lincoln climbs, runs, and laughs. During our attempted nap today, Lincoln figured out how to take his clothes off. All of them. Levi came out to report. When Levi’s rest was over, Lincoln started screaming for “DADDY!” and there he is, naked. He crawled out of the top of the onesie we buttoned under him. That’s determination for you.