True Colors

Why must there be winners and losers?

So this post requires a little background.  It all started in the Fall of 2008 when Jon and I met and fell in love.  We knew from the beginning that Jon had attended the U and that I had attended the Y, but at this point in our relationship I don't think I yet knew how deeply our allegiance to our respective schools ran.  Jon must have known because he proposed to me the night before the big rivalry game that year, knowing that at the end of the football game the following day one of us would be happy and one of us would not.  The game was at Rice Eccles Stadium that year and I was a pansy and chose to blend in rather than sport my BYU attire.  Silly Becca.  I'd gone to all the other U of U games that season and cheered for them without any issue.  I suppose I thought I'd be alright regardless of the outcome, but as it became clear that the cougars were not going to come out on top I became increasingly quiet and slightly miserable.  They say that misery loves company and I can promise you that in that crowd I felt all alone.  It was then that I knew just what kind of a fan I was.  So sad at the loss, and slightly disgusted at myself for caring so much.  Perhaps knowing that we were getting married and that football really isn't that big of a deal made it a little easier to accept defeat, but only a little.

The following year we were visiting Lizzie and her family in New York for Thanksgiving.  That meant missing out on listening to the game because we were flying back home while they played.  After we landed Jon discovered a voicemail from my family singing the Cougar fight song.  BYU had won!  The victory should have been sweeter than it was, but I felt a bit bad for Jon, imagining how I would deal with a message on my phone of family singing the Utah Man song.  Not cool.  Once again, I was a little relieved for the game to have come and gone and not worry about it for another year.

I won't go into the details of each year, but just to further illustrate how sensitive we are to this rivalry I think I should mention that two years ago I was listening to Greg Rubel upstairs while Jon listened to the Utah announcer downstairs.  Apparently Rubel is over the top biased towards BYU.  True, but this year we discovered that it's the same with Utah.  The point is that we couldn't even listen to the game in the same room!!  I remember Abby telling me that we were going to mess up our children.  Didn't we realize that this was like religion?  And that exposing our kids to one Utah parent and one BYU parent might have some serious repercussions.  I loved Jon's response.  "We'll just have to have Aggies!"  Or they could go to Weber.  Red and blue makes purple.  Anyway, I suppose time will tell which team they ultimately choose...

Until then, we'll just try to give them equal team time in what they wear until they can choose for themselves.  Which is what we did Saturday.  Half the day Lyds sported her Cougar tennis outfit while Sophie wore her Utah cheer leading attire.  Then they switched to the other team for the remainder of the day.  Clearly this decision was not made by our girls, but was done for their parents benefit.  Haha!  We are a little ridiculous!  I tried to be a gracious loser, and I think I did alright, and Jon was a champ of a winner, but during the game it became even more clear that this hope of having our team win affects us much to much.  Jon found himself shaking as he listened to the final minutes, and I was so grateful for the sad texts passing between my sisters because I felt less alone in my loss.  Perhaps this two year break from the rivalry game has come at the perfect time.  Hopefully we can chill out enough in the next two years and maybe not be so affected by a win or a loss.  Because someone always wins and that means someone is always going to lose.  That's just the way it is!

We have ourselves a runner!

Running has become increasingly more difficult since Lydia is growing up and able to express her opinions.  She no longer enjoys sitting in the B.O.B. with her sister to simply take in the scenery.  She wants to be out.  Running around.  Riding Lightning McQueen or chasing the baby.  If we run at the Nature Park she wants to get out and join the horses or mingle with the ducks.  If we run around another park she wants to hop on the playground and swing on the swings, race down the slide or chill in the dirt/sand/wood chips or whatever the playground is surrounded with.  The world clearly needs to be explored.  And who am I to refuse her such grand opportunities?

Last week we took the B.O.B. to a nearby park on a day when Jon wasn't expected to be home until late and we were going nuts staying inside.  Mostly I just really needed to get a run in.  This time I brought Lydia's little Lightning McQueen scooter with the promise that I would take a running break to let her race around on her car.  After running two miles I could see that she either needed to get out to play immediately or I was going to find her sleeping at 6:30 p.m.  Not wanting to fight our two year old more than usual during her bedtime routine later that night I decided to pull her out and let her ride for as long as she wanted.  By the way, Lydia refused to nap that afternoon which explained her threatening to crash so early in the evening.  It took her a minute to pull herself out of her haze, but once she did, she was unstoppable!  She raced that little car (which may be getting to little for her) as fast as her little legs could go.  I wish I'd brought my camera with me because the expression on her face was so full of delight that it's a shame I wasn't prepared to capture it.  That, and seeing her long legs flying as she sped around the park was all I needed to put me in a better mood and promise myself to hold on to this moment in my memory for as long as possible.

She probably rode a half mile before she decided she wanted to run with me, so Lightning took her spot in the stroller and Lyds ran like her life depended on it.  She ran and ran and smiled at strangers as we crossed paths.  She'd occasionally say "hold you" (we're currently working on getting her to say "hold me" instead) if a particularly loud plane was flying overhead or a man was running our way.  Mostly, she just booked it!  Sometimes she'd run solo, and sometimes she'd hold onto the stroller.  It didn't take long for her to decide that Sophie needed to somehow be included in this fun so we played Runaway Baby.  Runaway Baby consisted of me pushing the stroller with as much as force as I could muster, allowing Baby Sophie to escape us, and then chasing her down so she could be rescued.  We succeeded if she was caught before strolling onto the grass.  Definitely a winner of a game if ever you want to try it!  And Lydia couldn't get enough of it.  By the time she had decided she was through she'd run an entire mile!  She was so worn out and definitely ready for bed.  And to top it off she slept so soundly that night!

Even though I didn't get to run as far as I had hoped, it was so awesome to run with Lydia and watch her get a kick out of speeding along on her Lightning car.  This is what running has become and I wouldn't change it for anything.

She does tricks!

Before We get into the topic at hand, I'd like to mention that I'm convinced our little girl is teething.  It's been weeks since she slept through the night.  Weeks and weeks.  She hasn't ever slept through the night consistently, but occasionally she'd surprise us with a full night's rest.  More often than not she'd wake up just once, but lately she's up three or four times a night.  Starting at midnight, then 2:00 a.m. 4:00 a.m. 6:00 a.m.  Sometimes I'm sure it's her teeth bothering her.  Other times I'm not so sure.  Is she cold?  That's certainly possible.  She does seem to be a light sleeper, which might explain things.  Is she uncomfortable because her bed isn't soft enough?  Firm enough?  There are several possibilities.  If only she could tell us!!  The result is that Jon and I get to walk around like zombies day after day after day.  Last night she and I slept on the love sac just so I didn't fall over on the third waking (which almost happened the previous night) and so Jon could get a less disrupted night's rest.  She went four hours before waking up again.  So nice.  So needed.

Even though she's made our nights rough, she's always been a very considerate daytime eater.  I've brought Sophie to Young Women's sure that she would be ready to eat ten minutes into our activity and she always surprises me by waiting until my responsibilities are completed.  Isn't she sweet?  She also seems to know that once she's in her carseat she's going to have to wait until she's out before she gets to eat.  She's generally a pretty good sport about it.  Doesn't complain much at all.  I've tutored my neighbor knowing that I'll have to make Sophie wait a little longer than she'd probably choose herself, but she puts up with it all.  It might have something to do with the fact that I'm holding her and she knows I'll take care of her when I can so she doesn't complain.  I have no idea what her reasons are for being so considerate, but I sure appreciate it!  Plus this girl gives the best hugs ever!  I can't get enough.

On to the tricks... Sophie is a mover and a hopper.  She gets both feet off the ground when she jumps in her bouncer.  Her whole body gets into it.  I love watching her!  She spins in circles on the floor and rolls over and over again.  She's even inched her way toward very desirable things.  Things like Lydia's Tato Heads or my phone.  A little plastic spoon motivated her to do her neatest trick yet.  I was reading Big Bad Bunny to Lydia while Sophie sat in her "rainbow" (Bumbo, though Lydia has re-named it rainbow) and as much as I tried to focus on the story, I couldn't help but keep an eye on Sophie.  She was reaching for this plastic spoon from Lydia's kitchen that was only inches from her chair and she was so intent on grabbing it that she kept elevating herself in the rainbow, getting closer and closer to her prize.  Every reach seemed to get her closer and closer to popping out of her little chair.  And finally!  As I sat watching her stretch her little fingers toward that orange spoon she popped out of the rainbow and belly flopped on top of her spoon.  Then she rolled over and sucked on it.  Totally worth all that effort.  Totally worth it.  And she wouldn't let go.  Would not.  Not for anything.

These photos were obviously staged, but you get the general idea.  She's amazing!  Should have taken one of her on her tummy.  It was quite the belly flop!

Mr. and Mrs.

A few weeks ago the girls and I returned home from a meeting at a friend in our ward's home.  I unbuckled Lydia from her carseat and she immediately tried to re-buckle herself while demanding that we go back.  She hadn't shown any signs that she wanted to stay as we packed up to go, and she was rather pleasant on the ride home; however, her insistent demand that we go back to her friend's house quickly became a hysterical plea with lots and lots of tears.  Genuine tears.  Even once inside she kept running to the garage door trying to open it so that we could get in the car.  Why the desperate need to "go back"?  Because Lydia's friends from her favorite Disney movies no longer existed solely on the big screen.  She had seen Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head from Toy Story and she would never be the same.  Never. Ever.

Jon came home for lunch shortly after Lydia's meltdown and pacified her temporarily by putting on Toy Story.  I had several errands to run that afternoon and once we'd gotten in the car Lydia wanted to go back to her friends again.  We were going shopping so she asked if we could look for the potatoes.  Sure.  No harm in that.  Right before we reached our first stop she decided she wanted to buy the potatoes.  Buy?  Really Lyds?  I didn't even know she was aware of such words, let alone what they meant.  Anyway, I promised her we'd buy her a Potato if we found one.  Perhaps I should have thought that promise through.  The result?  Lydia is the happiest little girl ever!  She has her Mrs. and her Mr.  Sometimes they go by Sleeping Booty and Prince Philip, or Mother and Father.  And most recently Granny and Grandfather.  Reminds me of her Aunt Sarah.  These girls have great imaginations!!

Anyway, I don't know that we would have found the Potato Heads if one of them hadn't been lying in the middle of an aisle at Family Dollar.  She was so excited to show Jon when he got home, and he got the biggest kick out of it because he'd spent a few minutes looking on-line at work to find out the cost of a Mr. Potato Head.  These Mini-Potatoes were a great deal, and Lydia has played with them daily.  Definitely worth it.  So worth it.