cruising into the routine.

Morning, chickens!

I’m trying to do better, over here.

We had quite the weekend, filled with friends visiting and concert going and picnic having.

Three days should be the normal length of a weekend, I think.

Also during the weekend: Theo figured out how to flip himself from belly to back, pretty much ensuring that he’s never doing tummy time again, even though he’s figured out how to do this:

photo (6)

I know, I can’t stand how cute he is either.

Yesterday was back to reality, with a quick stopover to the doctor to get a shingles vaccination.

Since T was born, my RA has been back with a vengeance (well, I mean, it’s not quite that bad, but it’s not cool), and since apparently long time steroid use is a bad solution to my problem, I’ve got some new drugs to try out in the next month or so.

Which is good, because the steroids are making it easier for me to bruise, which means I look like a cage fighter.

Roughly.

Another proposed solution: having one million kids Duggar style, but JW and I aren’t sure that’s the best approach to this issue.

The condo wasn’t made for Duggars.

Anyway, I headed into the lab for a vaccination, handed it to the woman (I had to pick it up myself- doing my own dirty work these days), and the woman looked at me pointedly and whispered, “How old are you?”

When I told her, she looked at me, and the vaccine, and then looked shocked.

Which was surprising to me since we were in a rheumotologist’s office, where I’m pretty sure autoimmune disorders come up.

I explained I was down with the old lady shots, having just gotten my pneumonia vaccine a couple weeks ago as well.

She eyed me suspiciously, but here I am, vaccinated, ready to try to even out that overactive immune system of mine.

Never a dull moment around here, chickadees.

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