Tag Archives: RA

You are the best thing.

You guys, tomorrow JW and I have been married for five years.

And we’ve been a couple for ten years, almost.

And we’ve known each other for 18 years, in the spring.

All of those things are important chickadees, and they’re all worth celebrating.

In five years of marriage, so many things have changed and also, thankfully, a lot has stayed the same.

We still love sushi. And football. And Chicago.

And each other. Like, a lot.

JW still makes me laugh the most, and I still love the look on his face when I’ve managed to do something just a little crazier, this time.

He’s a good friend, a great husband, and the best dad. Like, when Theo wakes up in the middle of the night and cries, “I want my Daddy,” I want to be like, yeah, get in line, so does everybody else.

I’m pretty lucky he’s the guy who carries the heavy stuff and opens the windows in my life.

Literally and figuratively, in case you were wondering.

In five years, we’ve gotten some serious shit done, good and bad.

We’ve finished MBAs (well Jon has, I’ve just been along for the ride), and lost people we loved. We’ve battled through my unexpected RA (which is now blissfully controlled), found new jobs, purchased a home and a car, run a lot of races, and made people we love.

We’ve fought about silly things and important things, because that’s part of being in a great partnership.

We’ve got each other to show for it, and of course, we’ve got this, too.


Happy anniversary, JW, and thanks for being the best thing, always.

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Filed under Chicago, Did I really do that?

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.


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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Filed under Reflections

hold me up/wrap me up

Morning, chickadees.

And sorry for soaring right past Monday.

Yesterday was one of those days that I just couldn’t get into.

The fact that it was Monday meant it was already working against me.

Added to it, I was having one of Those Days.

You guys, I don’t know if I talk about my RA too much or too little.

Sometimes I’d rather not bring it up, and sometimes I want to talk about it for an excruciatingly long time, because I think maybe I can just talk it right out of me.

Or make it a joke: check out Nikki, stumbling around like an old person. Just give me a second, I’ll catch up.

It’s manageable, I tell everyone.

And it is. I can still go to yoga and play soccer and lift Tobin and tell jokes and laugh until my sides hurt.

Those are my current priorities.

But sometimes, after a lot of annoying small things (never, chickens, is it just one thing), I get frustrated.

I’ve never been patient, chicks.

RA teaches me I don’t always have a choice.

Sometimes after not being able to wear the shoes I want because my ankles won’t cooperate (you never liked those boots anyway, I lie to myself), or struggling to open a container (and chuckling just a little bit because it’s a prescription pain medication I’m trying to get at) or just moving slow in the morning trying to get dressed, I have one of Those Days, where I decide to feel sorry for myself because I can’t do exactly what I used to be able to do.

And I don’t always feel like sharing that with the world, chickadees, because here’s the thing:

I’m really lucky. I have a husband who can open anything I can’t (I loosened it for you, you know), friends who listen to me babble on about all of my harebrained schemes to cure myself (and hand me Vitamin Shoppe coupons so it doesn’t cost me too much) while I find the right medication, a mom who makes me anything I want gluten free, and joints that still manage to take me where I need to go, even though my immune system insists on attacking them for no real reason.

And so I go to yoga, and I tell someone (all of you) that I’m mad, and I remember all of the above.

And I feel much better about the whole thing.

So today’s not gonna be one of Those Days, chickadees.

In yoga last night, I set an intention to be positive, and so despite the fact that I was sweating so much at the time that I could be counted as delirious, I’m sticking with it.

Enjoy this one, chickens. It’s a beautiful day out there.





Filed under Chicago, Did I really do that?, Reflections

shake wake break it or quit you

Morning, chickens.

It’s a rainy day over here in the second city.

My hands seem to be protesting the rain, or at least that’s what I’m assuming today’s joints are brought to me by.

Last night, I headed to hot yoga, and when I was signing myself in, my instructor (who is one of my favorite people on this earth) stopped my pal and I and let us know how strong we’d gotten since we started our practice.

Which was music to my ears, chickadees, because one of the most irritating part of my adventure in RA is that I don’t always feel in control of my own body.

I try to remind myself that with my lifelong coordination struggle, I’ve never really had much control over it, but that doesn’t always help when I’m trying to stretch out and just can’t.get.there.

I spend a lot of time looking around the room and fixating on all the things I’d maybe be able to do if my limbs would just listen to me.

Instead though, I spent 90 minutes last night focusing on all the things that I can do, instead of shooting jealous looks at my classmates who make everything seem easy.

And it turns out that while right now I am not the runner of half marathons or the bendiest of yogis, there’s still approximately one millon things I can do now that I couldn’t four months ago.

And so, the thought of the day, from my favorite historical figure, is as follows.



Do I wish the treadmill didn’t scare my knees into submission? Of course.

But then, chickens, what if I’d never learned to do a headstand?

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Filed under Chicago, Reflections, Weather, Yoga