I’m feeling blog-drained lately, like I don’t have a lot of fun things to talk about. I guess maybe that this is where it becomes about “keepin’ it real.”Don’t these fries look yum? I wish I had some right now . . .

Last week, we hit the JBF sale on Monday, which was good. I got some cute clothes for Jude for cheap. Tuesday was Mother’s Day Out, and I got some work accomplished. Wednesday should’ve been BSF, but that didn’t happen because of aforementioned work, and then Thursday was a sick day. However, Thursday was also an awesome day because one of my good friends, Julie, had her precious baby boy Jameson. On Friday, after picking up Jude, I took our mutual friend Christa down to Norman to the hospital so we could pay our regards to the sweet new little bundle. In comparison, Jude looks like a giant. He doesn’t look like a little baby anymore.

Speaking of my baby, he has grown by leaps and bounds lately and is 17 months old today. He is completely upwardly mobile (walking! yes!) and it makes it all the more fun. Honestly, I think that it was a far bigger transition to go from non-mobile to crawling than it was to go from crawling to walking. If anything, I think it’s made life that much easier. He’s also talking up a storm. His current words include: mama, daddy (his favorite, pronounced “dah-DEEEEEEEEEE!”), apple, ball, cheese (“chee!!!!”), fish (“fshhhhh”), bottle, grandaddy (“dan dan dee”), baby, hi, down. I’m sure I’ll think of a few more, but that’s the list for now. Just so I can remember…  Such a sweet little thing, my Jude Bean.

Tonight the phone rang. Amy was calling to let me know that Mom was on her way to the ER, with a possible complication of her autoimmune disorder. Man, how I hate hospitals these days. We have seen far too much of hospitals lately, and while I respect what the doctors do and how they help us, I’m ready to bid adieu to all hospitals unless I’m getting something good out of it. Like a baby. Or a tummy tuck. Ok, just kidding about the tummy tuck.  No more sick, no more IVs, no more medicines. Can’t we all just be healthy? Mom and I joke that we keep flipflopping from sick to well; she’ll be sick and I’ll be well, then I’ll get sick and she’ll be well. The funny thing is, I feel like we’re sisters in some ways in this whole thing; we have different autoimmune disorders, but our treatments have been similar. I know what she’s feeling –  being on lots of steroids and how it can mess with you, yet make you feel better. It’s like a love/hate relationship, in a way, with them. ::sigh::  Until we can find a better treatment, this is what we’ll do, I guess.

It’s not to say that it doesn’t come with its bad days. Most of the time, I can be ok with it. I can find ways to joke and laugh about it. But then there’s other days where I am just so sick of it all, and I’m ready to throw up my hands and say enough. Enough is enough. I hate seeing doctors as much as I do, I’m sick of all the tests, I’m tired of being tired, blah blah blah. It’s the fear of being out of control, really.

Today in church, Pastor Ben talked about commitment, and how Jesus was committed to us, even as sinners, up until the very end. He even asked God to take it all away from him, that he wouldn’t have to die on that cross, and God chose not to answer that prayer for Him. Sometimes it’s frustrating, it feels like, “Why won’t God take away _______ from me?” Stellan’s mom is dealing with all this right now as she is watching her little boy in the hospital. And to be honest, I don’t have all the answers on it, on this suffering stuff. I don’t know why bad stuff happens, but I do know that God promises to use all of it (ALL of it!) for the good of His people. It’s for His glory. And because of that, I have hope.

Dad told me once that he has patients who have chronic diseases, and they will fall into two categories: the kind who choose to let it ruin their lives, or the kind who choose to view it as one of the best things that could’ve happened to them. I want that to be true of me, that it would change me for the better.

So I give myself a bad day every now and then and then we pick up and move on. I couldn’t make it without my family. I really couldn’t. I may not like hospitals, but I guarantee you, I’m gonna be there if any one of them was there. Just like they would be, and they have been, for me.

Wow, sorry this was so long. I think I needed to get it all off my chest!  Love to all –

Rachel