As you know, Stink is Tarzaning about every twenty seconds. It’s interrupting his speech. (Of course, it doesn’t bother him in the least. He still talks like a mad man. Either he’s clueless about it or is just content enough about it he doesn’t give a hoot. I am going with both options.)
His teacher yesterday, upon answering my question of “How is Stink behaving in class?” gave a big smile and a thumbs up, followed by her hand fluttering against her neck. Stink was putting up his chair, so she didn’t want to make a big deal about it.
“Yeah, he’s ticking more,” I quietly mouthed back, tacking on a big thumbs up at the end as if this information was right along the lines of “He needs a permission slip” or “Tomorrow is Twin Day.”
Walking out of the room, I continued to smile broadly, as if as if I didn’t feel daggers of hurt and disappointment every time those nasty little noises reared their ugly head. As if I didn’t feel overwhelmed in emotion every time someone acknowledged the white elephant in the room.
And then, to my huge delight, I smiled even broader – because it dawned on me: “She is right! Stink is ticking more! And it’s not my fault, because that’s what tickers do!”
Now this might sound odd, and a bit of a weird revelation, but maybe you’re like me. Maybe you have waged a valiant war to suppress those nasty tics. Perhaps you are proud of when someone meets your kid and, upon hearing he or she has T.S., they gasp, “Really! I had no idea at all!”
Perhaps you have done all in your power to keep your child healthy via food, supplements or maybe meds so that people “will not notice he or she is different from the other kids” but then they tic a bit anyway. Then, perhaps, you feel defeated.
I was like that. I’m still like that at times. Ask any of my friends, family or dear hubby: Tarzan is driving me bonkers! But it dawned on me, standing there in front of his teacher, that while the noises annoy me, I don’t feel responsible for them anymore. I don’t feel sad about it. I don’t feel like I somehow failed because he is in a waxing period. I have reached the acceptance part of “he has T.S.” And it feels good.
For me, having done the diet, gone off the diet, done the acupuncture, gone off some of the acupuncture, done the supplements, cut back on the supplements, I know what I know and this is what I know:
* The gluten free/caesin free diet makes a difference
* The supplements make a difference
* The acupuncture makes a difference
But none of the above is a cure-all. He’s still going to tic sometimes. But it doesn’t mean that what we are doing is a failure. I believe, in the bottom of my heart, his symptoms would be much worse if we didn’t do anything at all.
That, my friends, is a huge relief.
Just wanted to share.
I also wanted to ask for prayers for patience with this Tarzan tic. It’s just… un-nerving. But hey, it’ll pass. It always does. I’m grateful it’s just his selfish mommy that is annoyed, and not him.
In closing, am I disappointing any of you who have come to this site hoping to have me give you the surefire cure for fixing T.S.? I will never stop finding ways to help my kid – and yours – but until I find that magic bullet (and I do, in my heart of hearts, believe there is something more we can do for all our kids) I will continue to….
Accept the tics I cannot change
Change the ones I can
And find the wisdom to know the difference
It’s writing day! So I’m off to Topanga! Do something nice for yourself, you hear?
* Photo found at Allposters.com