The horror

Hearing Sophie cry tonight has never been more sweet nor more welcome.  Let me explain.  This afternoon I took the girls for a run.  The plan was to run two and a half miles to a playground where Lydia could run to her hearts desire and then run the same route back when she'd had her fill.  Lyds has struggled to fall asleep at nap time for weeks now and going for a run/playing at the park has become a good compromise.  However, five minutes into our run she was out.  By the time I reached the playground I thought it better to let her get more sleep and worry about her disappointment at not playing on the swings or sliding down the slides rather than wake her up and suffer the consequences.  Especially when I know how much good a nap can do.  So we raced home with the plan to shower (after a quick visit from Grandma) and then feed Sophie before heading off to a meeting down the street.

Grandma came and everything was fine and well.  And then suddenly it wasn't.  Lydia had a meltdown.  An epic meltdown.  Really, I kid you not.  This outburst was new and downright unpleasant.  Period.  Apparently that nap did not do what I'd hoped.  Grandma's visit was cut short, and I tried to understand what had so upset Lydia, all the while delaying my shower and pushing back Sophie's dinner.  Sophie was a sweetheart and patient while Lyds and I sorted things out.  Then I handed Sophie a little girl shoe and hopped in the shower.  She cried a little.  Then a bit more.  I sped up and then she was quiet.  I thought she might have fallen asleep, but then I heard another cry and hopped out of the shower.  She started choking.  And then struggled for breath.  I tore her out of her bouncer and started pounding her back frantically trying to remember how to perform the Heimlich maneuver on an infant while racking my brain trying to conjure up what on earth she could possibly be choking on.  And trying really hard not to burst into tears.  Why do things like this always happen when Jon's in Farson??  (Like Lydia swallowing a ball of aluminum foil at Grandma and Grandpa Blackhursts.  She was only eight months, and yes, Jon was in Farson then too.  There have been other emergencies, but suffice it to say that that thought was not welcome.)  the back pounding helped Sophie's breathing.  I checked her mouth again and again.  Nothing.  Nothing.  Nothing.  I set her down for a second and knew that was not helpful.  But she was breathing.  Yes.  She was breathing.  And crying.  So many tears!  So upset!  I knew she was hungry and so I tried to feed her.  She liked the idea for oh... five seconds, if that, and then she'd pull away and let me have it.  I tried again with the same results.  It was then, while Sophie's head was tipped back and her mouth was wide open that I saw it.  A black number five planted on the roof of her mouth.  And then some other words.  A clear plastic sticker was stuck inside her mouth threatening to go down her throat.  Something I have no doubt was happening when I pulled her from her bouncer.  I stuck my finger in and tried to pull it out.  Sophie cried harder and the sticker moved away from me.  I paused for what felt like an eternity and then attempted to pull it out again.  Same awful results.  I tried again, this time sliding the sticker towards her cheek.  Out came the hateful sticker with a great deal of foamy saliva.  And Sophie was fine!!  Not really, but sort of.  She was traumatized and so was I.  I held her so close and couldn't stop kissing her.  Earlier this morning she and Lydia had been fighting over this pair of shoes.  I had no idea the terror they would later bring.  Why did I think that letting her hold one of them was a good idea?  Actually, I know why.  Sophie's usual toys have not been cutting it lately, and Lydia is really particular about which of her toys Sophie can play with.  It was a quick and easy solution and I only needed it to keep her happy for a few minutes. What I didn't know was that it would lead to that.

Sophie is fine.  She's sleeping and breathing right now.  Both girls are.  But I'll admit that I didn't let Sophie out of my sight for a minute tonight.  I just wanted to hold her.  I needed to hold her.  That reassurance that she was okay meant everything to me.  And still does.  And that is why hearing her cry was so welcome.  Like music.

And did I mention that she has teeth?  One and a half at the moment.  Isn't she adorable?

Stories come to life

We got a good run in the other day and while running at a Nature Park by our house we saw a SNORT.  You know the story, right?  Are you My Mother by P.D. Eastman?  It’s one of Lydia’s favorites and a few weeks ago our neighbors started work in their backyard in preparation for an addition to their house.  They had one of those diggers digging dirt back there and Lydia saw it and told Jon and me that the Snort was taking the baby bird back to the tree so it could be with it’s mother.  Just like in the story.  Because if you ever see a big machine like that you know it’s returning baby birds to their nests.  Anyway, back to our run and the Nature Park.  We saw two Snorts and Lydia was thrilled!  I was wishing that I’d brought our camera so I could capture her standing in front of one of them and then write about it!  Of course I was not prepared that way, so later in the afternoon we stopped by and walked along the trail so that we could get a good picture before we went grocery shopping.  Lydia insisted on bringing her Mrs. Potato Head.  She may be turning up frequently in these pictures... Sophie rode in the Bjorn like a champ and we got the picture before it started raining on us. 

 But that’s not the only story that’s come to life for Lyds.  I pulled out some of our Halloween/Fall decorations and among them are ten apples.  Plastic apples, I believe, that Jon bought me a few years ago for my classroom.  We counted the apples and when Lydia discovered that there were ten she started putting them on her head, trying to stack as many as she could.  This was something she learned about in Ten Apples Up on Top by Theo LeSieg (aka Dr. Seuss).  She loves that book!  She loves the tiger.  She loves the Lion.  And she definitely loves the dog.  Anyway, we’ve had days of her trying to put apples on her head balancing them as best she could.  Today Lydia wanted to help me sweep the floor.  I guess our broom resembles the mop in Ten Apples Up on Top and Lydia starts talking about “the mop. The mop!  The mop!  The Mop!” Because there’s an angry bear trying to get at the lion, tiger and dog; trying to knock the apples off of their heads.   Lydia and the angry characters; I’m not sure why she loves them so!  But those are some examples we have of Lydia’s books coming to life. 

 I love saying a phrase like, "and then Bear went back to the business of making his breakfast."  Just so I can see her light up and start talking about A Visitor for Bear written by Bonny Becker.  We went to Tracy Aviary and Lyds fell in love with this  peacock.  She tried to feed it a stick. The bad guy from Kung Fu Panda 2 is a peacock...  Maybe she didn't remember that??  Anyway, Lydia really does have an active imagination.  I love it.  Right now Lydia is looking out the window telling me she can see a will of the wisp.  She loves books and movies and says things like “Mordu a coming a soon.  A better to hide.”  I can only guess how long this stage will last or if it will ever end... All I know is that I'm loving it!

Sophie loves books for other reasons.  Don't they look so tasty?

And both girls enjoy hearing from Granny and Grandpa when they come to read and sing.

Not sure what to make of this business!

Six months.  Our little Sophie is six months!  I'm convinced that time is passing much more quickly now than when I was a little girl.  It's hard to believe we've had sweet Sophie in our lives for six whole months.  Almost seven!  On September 24 she had her first taste of solid foods.  That morning while Lydia was eating her granola I put Sophie in her high chair for the first time.  We got her bib ready, handed her a spoon to keep her interest while I mixed her cereal, and then got started!  The first bite led to Sophie gagging quite a bit.  Not used to anything staying on her tongue.  The way she looked at me it was like she was saying "what am I supposed to do with this?  It's not just melting away or sliding down my throat!"  As we progressed to the second and third bites she would work her tongue around a little better and eventually swallow.  Quite a bit of cereal would find it's way out of her mouth as she attempted to figure things out.  I expected her to open her mouth immediately upon seeing the spoonful of rice coming her way, but she didn't.  The fact that everything she can get her hands on goes into her mouth immediately these days meant nothing when it came to that spoonful of food.  Nothing at first anyway.  She really didn't know what to do with it, but before long she knew that she liked it.  It had been at least a month and maybe longer since she started showing interest in eating as evidenced by her attempts to seize her sister's food or food from my plate.  And for about a month prior to Sophie starting cereal I'd been talking to Lydia about her helping to feed Sophie once she started eating solids.  She was so excited!  I got her out of her high chair and she asked to hold the bowl and spoon and then gently held out the spoon to Sophie.  For some reason Sophie wanted to take it from Lyds where she hadn't tried to with me.  I tell myself it's because Sophie wants to do everything she sees her big sis doing, but really I have no idea.  I just know that both girls were happy at that moment.  Sophie ate squash later on in the evening after Jon got off work and I was back from Young Women's.  She is definitely a fan of squash and green beans, loves carrots, detests peas, prefers peaches to pears, and tolerates prunes.   We like to pretend there's a train coming and when we say "choo choo!" Sophie's mouth is wide open!  Ready to devour another mouthful.  So happy and so grateful for this new phase of her life.

On a side note Lydia asked to try some of Sophie's food just the other day.  I fed her a tiny bit of the rice cereal I had just prepared and wasn't horribly surprised when it was immediately rejected.  Lydia then spent a good thirty seconds rubbing remnants of cereal from her tongue and was still disgusted with what I'd given her.  Didn't matter that she used to eat it three times a day for a good six months of her life!  She's moved on to bigger and better things.  No need to try that again!

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.