I broke my back.

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Or, my back broke me. Actually, it’s not really broken, but something is happening back there. Is a pinched nerve a real thing? Because that’s what it is. It was probably my basket-case-baby working me over yesterday. He’s all jacked up on baby ‘roids. Yeah, let’s blame him. He’s so cute that I’m not even mad about it though. I actually just hobbled into his room to cuddle him. I even picked him up, which is probably not a great move considering my current state. Totally worth it though.

Anyone else watching Blindspot? THAT was intense tonight. Grant and I argue about this show all the time. We’re arguing on the same side, and I’m not sure who we’re arguing against, but we argue nevertheless. I always get sucked into watching it- heck, I even stay up to watch it on purpose! But, why? It’s so predictable, everyone gets saved in a matter of hours, and the episodes are wrapped in the most beautiful little bows at the end. Whatever. I’ll be here- same time, same place next week. Who am I trying to kid?

Grant doesn’t want me to talk about this online, but he knows better. I’m at SAHM (stay-at-home-mom, for all you young kids who are out there doing whatever-the-heck you want), so this is my social interaction, for the most part. I process outwardly, so he can’t expect me to bottle this up and save it for never. Here it is: I had to take my precious, tiny, perfect, only baby to the ER yesterday because I thought he was having an allergic reaction to peanut butter. Whether or not he actually reacted is yet to be determined by a blood test. His little baby eyes got so swollen and bumpy, and it was the absolute scariest thing I’ve ever dealt with. I even cried a little. I’m not trying to make light of this on purpose, but this is the second stage of my processing: acting like it’s not a big deal and that it is now a joke. But, it’s still too soon for even me. Of course, I was allowing the worst possible scenarios to run rampant in my mind, so needless to say, I didn’t sleep much last night.

Can we talk about control? Isn’t it weird how we’re all “control freaks” and pretend like we have a tangible grip on life? Let me tell you (and me) something: we don’t. It’s the scariest place to be. But, it’s a necessary place to be. We need to acknowledge things like this so we don’t A) lie to ourselves, and B) leave things unsaid and undone because “we’ll always have more time for that”(which is lying to ourselves). Let’s not do that, friends. As I was lying awake last night mulling over the events of the day, this weird sense of peace washed over me and I began to pray. I just thanked God for my precious boy, the time we get with him, and that God picked me to be his mom. As a believer, I know that my (and Griff’s) days are numbered. Only God know what that number is, but that’s just to say that none of us were ever meant to live forever. I’m going to try to tie this blogpost up into a tiny, pretty little bow, even though I know life is RARELY like this:

Let’s get out from under fear and try to live abundantly. It’s a daunting task, but a worthy one. I want to do it. Let’s do it.

Also, another ending remark: Let’s NOT do this alone. If God wanted us to live alone, He would’ve just created one person, but He didn’t, so don’t believe the lies that you aren’t worthy of relationships or love. You totally are, and you need it to live.

I really didn’t want to make this a life lesson. I tried really hard not to, but it just happens. I’m sorry. Here’s a tip: Don’t buy one-ply toilet paper.

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