Because, let’s face it: some diet foods are only worthy of passing along to the dog! I mean, have you tried fat-free cream cheese? If so, I rest my case.

Week two of WLW here, and not a whole lot to report. I’m still on-program. The scale says I’ve lost one whopping pound, but I swear my jeans are fitting a little looser and I just feel smaller — not so bloated. I also don’t feel as winded while shopping, etc. So that is good.

I weigh in again Friday morning, so hopefully I’ll have said my permanent “goodbye” to another pound or two.

I’m feeling really rough today (thanks to my wonky autoimmune issues) so overeating isn’t going be a struggle, as I have no appetite. Though I’d rather feel well and be hungry, sometimes I wish the “no appetite” part could be extended a while. Losing weight would be easy if one never felt the urge to eat!

Ah, well, it is what it is and it is my struggle, so…here’s to another week on-program!

To join up for Weight Loss Wednesdays, visit my friend Alicia HERE.

It’s the “Mommy’s Flaring” edition of Friday Fill-ins. Wheeee. Now, please pass the Advil.

1. I love to go to bed because someday I hope the few hours I rest there will add up to one decent night’s sleep. Eventually. Perhaps by the time Jonah leaves for college.

2. It’s not the amount of sleep you get that counts; it’s the quality! Unfortunately for me, I’m lacking in both regards.

3. The last thing I had to eat was a homemade pumpkin muffin.

4. They tell me that learning to write in cursive is no longer essential. But in our homeschool, we’re doing it anyway.

5. Please take a moment to pause in silence, in remembrance of my youth.

6. The grace of God and the mercy of others have brought you this far.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to doing as little as possible, tomorrow my plans include submitting articles to a variety of publications and Sunday, I want to relax again after going to church and cooking dinner for a friend, then start getting things ready for Eli’s big 9th birthday on Monday!

I’ve been a little in denial about it, but it’s time to admit: the icky, bane-of-my-existence autoimmune crud is flaring up again.

Dammit.

You know, I wish I had a name for it. I’ve been tested for so many things: rheumatoid arthritis, Behcet’s disease, ankylosing spondylitis. I was told for a couple of years that I had lupus, but my most recent rheumatologist is reluctant to label it as such. All we know is that my blood work is off and something is wrong with me. It has been for six years now, and we still don’t have a clear diagnosis.

My symptoms include joint pain and stiffness, especially in my hands, mouth sores, and exhaustion (like early pregnancy or coming-down-with-the-flu exhaustion where you have to rest—it’s not optional when you feel like that). I’ve had pleurisy (a lung inflammation) a few times, and one awful half-year when my immune system completely overreacted to a simple respiratory infection. It led to a muscle inflammation that left me needing months of physical therapy to regain pain-free use of my shoulders and hips. And when I catch these random bugs my little ones bring home, I’m usually sicker and it takes longer to get over it than it should. (Which is why I am totally anal about avoiding sick people, hand-washing and using hand sanitizer.)

Blessedly, pregnancy put all of my issues into remission, and besides some weird postpartum stuff that might’ve been autoimmune-related, I’ve had a heavenly, symptom-free year and a half.

I haven’t needed to see my rheumatologist for that long. She doesn’t even know I had a baby. I really like her, but it was quite nice not having to see her for a while.

I know I need to call her. I probably need to go back on the medication I was on before that helped keep it subdued. I don’t have time to feel bad, which is one reason I keep dismissing the slow re-encroachment of these symptoms. I’ve so totally enjoyed this season of not feeling badly. I had forgotten what that was like, and it was wonderful to not be in pain every day, to not have to think about it every day.

There were actually times that I forgot there was anything wrong with me.

And frankly, I’m angry that it’s back.

It could be worse. It could be much worse—I don’t let myself forget how blessed I am that it’s not cancer or anything more serious. I remind myself of this when I get mad about having a chronic illness. Praise God it’s me that’s dealing with it, and I’m not having to watch one of my children suffer, as so many parents have to do. That would be a million times more difficult than this.

If you pray, please join me in prayer for healing. And for grace to cover me until then.

Thank you!

1. I’d like to know why science can’t figure out how to recreate whatever it was that I enjoyed during my pregnancy that kept my autoimmune arthritis symptoms in remission. Because this week has reminded me that flaring stinks. Badly. I also have super-great, strong, thick nails when I’m pregnant, and at no other time. After each birth, you could see a ridge where the good nails grew out and my puny ones came back in. Anyway. If I were a scientist, I’d look into this. Great nails and no joint pain? Bliss!

2. One of my most favorite romantic memories is the time when Donnie and I were poor college students and he asked me to stop the car so he could go into a field and pick me a bouquet of wildflowers.

3. Last night, I had a salad and some teriyaki chicken noodles for dinner.

4. Sorry for the whine in item #1.

5. Can we please get some sleep now?

6. One of my worst temptations is shopping for deals; saving money is hard to resist!

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to softball and grilling out, tomorrow my plans include more softball and cleaning and Sunday, I want to go to church then relax the rest of the day!

One of these days I’m going to learn how to insert that nifty FFI button into my post. But until then, for more Friday Fill-Ins, click HERE! And have a great weekend, everyone!