A few weeks ago, my Dad made Frankie a "house" out a of a huge cardboard box. We managed to pack it up and bring it home, where I helped Frankie cover it with white paper and then he's been coating it with stickers. Literally, coating.
The morning I helped him cover the box in paper was a good morning.
You see, that's how I've been tracking things lately.
Because for the last few months I've been fighting the good fight.
In February I went to the doctor, where they temporarily increased my medications, and for about a week and a half I felt so well. When the stiffness and achiness started creeping back in I realized I was going to have to look at it different.
Instead of waiting around to feel better, I was going to have to try and live life anyway.
And so on a day like today, when I felt all right, (and the sunshine beckoned) I took Frankie to the park. Where he fell down, and I felt my face get hot and my eyes wet as I had to tell him to stand up and hold onto me, because I can't pick him up right now.
But he was okay. And so was I.
Plus we got ice cream afterwards.
When we get home, I'm exhausted. So I try to listen to my body, and I sleep while Frankie sleeps. And I think to myself "rebuild, rest, so we can take on tomorrow."
Because it shall surely come. And I want to look at it with a smile.
Postscript (2 parts):
-I've also been fighting various sorts of colds/flus/sinus infections. I think that's been a lot of the problem, and I have hope that when they clear up my immune system will stop going crazy and I'll feel better.
-I promise a decent post with pictures, soon, and to stop the whining.
