Today was supposed to be an epic lay around and watch football day. Annika has been excited for the Vikings game since last Sunday. I guess I got swept up in it a little too, even though I’ve been trying to keep my distance from football a little more than I used to (traumatic brain injuries and racism). I like watching football though; I like the strategy and the explosive plays.

I definitely achieved the epic laying around. I got up at like 8 a.m. and took the dog out and ate some breakfast, then both the dog and I went back to bed with our electric blanket. I slept so beautifully; it was so great. When I woke up, it was of my own accord, and I turned to look at the time: 1 p.m. I was pretty surprised.

I did shower and put on real clothes, but I definitely laid around on the chair and the couch watching football and playing around on the internet all day – exactly what I had planned. I finished my schoolwork and everything I felt like I needed to before Sunday specifically so I could have a day of not doing anything. Annika and Anders and Lora and even Dak joined in to the TV sports entertainment marathon.

But then it got dark. The Patriots won after trailing the Jaguars all game. Then the Vikings/Eagles game – I don’t even need to recap that, except to say that I felt terrible for Annika, who was hopeful even until I finally turned off the TV to start the emotional recovery process. The Eagles totally outplayed the Vikings. I am not even surprised by the game, just disappointed.

But Annika? She was genuinely surprised. She has infinite hope. I’m glad she likes to watch the games with us because she makes the whole thing a little better. But while I wasn’t too upset about the Vikings fate (and this was fated), I am horribly sad for Annika and all the little kids who were cheering and hoping for their team. That pit in my stomach today has lasted longer than other games.

I think this is what happens with a parental bond, maybe? I am generally ok with my own disappointments, when something goes wrong for one of my kids, it hurts more. When they have great hopes dashed, it is far more devastating than when my own hopes are dashed. When they are hurting, I feel an internal tension that I never feel otherwise. This is instinct? The mama bear growing within?

All this over a stupid sports team. It sounds kind of melodramatic, but I think we learn how to be disappointed and how to handle these emotions with sports and other competitions. It’s like practice for the real world, but without the personal consequences. I mean, will this actually affect most of our lives very much? Not really, aside from giving us something to commiserate over.

In this regards, Annika is handling the situation beautifully. She’s reading Harry Potter 3 with her dad right now, and she vowed that she will be cheering for the Patriots in the Superb Owl in a couple weeks. I’ll be cheering for Janet Jackson to make a surprise appearance at the half time show and for a blizzard because that would be dramatic.

We’ll move on. The Olympics are coming up and then the Timberwolves, the Wild, the Lynx, the Saints, and the Twins. There are plenty more opportunities to be heartbroken.