Author: Andrea Frazer

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

I interrupt my normally scheduled tic talk to share with you one of the most disastrous dinners in the history of time.

If you’d like to partake of such an adventure – and I highly recommend you do as there will be so much screaming you will have no chance to obsess over head nods, Tarzans or eye rolls – then here’s exactly what you need to do.

Directions For a Perfectly Disastrous Dinner

Trout with no head or tail but lots of bones

Salad with no dressing

1 Large Wasp buzzing around your chandelier light bulb

To make things especially interesting, cover said light bulb with a mustard yellow Tupperware bowl from 1970.

Listen for gentle giant son bemoaning poor little bee’s fate throughout entire meal which, two times, has to be put back in the oven because 550 degrees is apparently not enough to cook a foil wrapped river fish.

After fish is finally done, listen to kids tell you how they don’t like the fish or the salad.

Listen to your own voice tell them, “Sorry. This is not a diner.”

Listen to the devil on your shoulder scream at you that, “No, a diner would at least cook the fish, dork face.”

Watch husband almost break his neck surfing two chairs that have chair pads falling out the back.

Listen to bee, who we thought was deceased, start to moan and curse like a sailor who missed the naked lady dance review.

Watch daughter cower in anticipation under rainbow poncho while boy grabs syrup and Fiesta ware dinner plate to “Help the poor little bee get its energy back once it’s out of the light.”

Watch same little boy scream like a little girl and run out the house when the sweet little bee makes a nose dive for his head.

Same little boy sobs while annoyed handsome husband catches bee in water glass.

Perverse little Mommy? She just laughs and laughs and laughs. She needed this horrible, horrific, uncooked, non-alcohol induced meal. It was just the buzz she was waiting for.

My apologies in taking a while to follow up on this blog. I started slipping into a black hole had a lot on my mind after last week’s big UCLA follow-up.

To keep it simple, here’s the high lights, which led to my low lights, but now I’m seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, so let’s roll it on out, shall we?

* Doc thinks Stink is a super well adjusted

* Doc doesn’t think meds are needed for tics – which doc finds mild to moderate (thank you, Tarzan, go bloody die… yup, it’s back worse than before now, if that is possible?)

* Doc says that since Stink is well-adjusted socially and doing well academically, there’s no need to medicate. (Apparently “Warbling Drives Mama Batshit” does not a prescription for Clonodine make)

* Doc sees a bit of obsession going on with Stink’s Mario talk (really? so glad I’m paying the big bucks to figure that out)

* We have the option of having Stink tested for free at UCLA for an actual diagnosis of something other than T.S. – Be it ADHD, High Functioning Aspergers or whatnot

* If Stink qualifies for Aspergers, he can start an 8 week trial through UCLA where they will put him on Intuiv and monitor his blood pressure/reaction on a weekly basis

* Of course, this is a blind trial, so Stink might just get a placebo which means we’re driving in 2 hour traffic each way for a sugar pill which is kind of not really on my gluten free/caesin free/food dye free/eat everything that tastes like ass diet

* And then there’s the issue of Stink’s blood pressure often being being 85/55. With Intuiv’s side affects being to lower blood pressure, I’m taking a chance that Stink will faint, black out, or perhaps just not get up easily in the morning. The idea of not playing the Wii is appealing, but mind altlering drugs is not really the route I want to go if given a choice

Big Beefs In No Particular Order  (Organic big beef if possible, please)

1 . I am not against meds if they are needed. I take some for anxiety myself

2. I am not in denial about my kid’s issues, hence my cooperation with the I.E.P., taking him to a counselor last year, seeking out a UCLA specialist

This all said, let me go with #3 now…

3. I don’t feel, in my gut, we have done everything we need to do to avoid meds. He was doing fine before we went down to one acupuncture session/week. He was also doing better before we started in on the Wii and that damned Mario.

There is sooooooooo much research out there about dopamine flooding our kids brains. This dopamine can cause tics. It can cause the the executive function portion of their brain to get fuzzy. They lose impulse control. They show signs of ADHD. They obsess over games. Before I get my kid labeled as a high functioning autistic kid (and no problem if that’s the case)… and before I get him diagnosed as ADHD… why not take out the one thing that is triggering all this stuff in him as well as add back in acupuncture?

I really, in my heart of hearts, don’t think he has this Aspergers. I think he has tendencies toward obsession and the electronics needs to go.

Tell me, readership, would you take away the Wii before going down drug highway or do I just have my head up my butt? I really want to know. I really do.

Who out there is completely electronic free and why?

Here’s a book I’m reading now: Failure to Connect: How Computers Affect Our Childrens Minds And What We Can Do About It.

I’ll let you know how it goes next week.

Meanwhile, check back in a day or so for my review of David Finch’s best selling book The Journal of Best Practices:  A Memoir of Marriage, Asperger Syndrome, and One Man’s Quest to Become a Better Husband .

I’ve emailed back and forth with this amazing writer several times. He was diagnosed when he was 30. He went from having a marriage in the toilet to the union he always wanted. Finch did the best with the cards he was dealt. Don’t we all want that for our kids? To know, truly, what is going on and do the best we can?

Talk to you soon.

…that my son is Tarzanning every 30 seconds.

My husband doesn’t hear it at all.

Either I’m completely obsessive or he is completely delusional.

I’m going with Door #2.

Have a nice night.

Things aren’t perfect, but I’m sooooo much more settled than yesterday. Sometimes it just means taking your mind off your worries and focusing on something else. Too much time is the devil’s handiwork, so they say, and that is very much the case with me.

This morning I got the kids up early and we headed over to school. I run the Friday parent coffees. It’s a really low key event where I brew Yuban, pray a parent brings some goodies, and let the conversation go where it will. It’s no stress, no major agenda – just a way to communicate.

Often, in the course of one hour, connections are made, projects are started, and spirits are lifted. Today, for example, I spent a good deal of time chatting with a new dad who is writing a book about God. Another friend of mine is also writing a book. And yet another father is, um, writing a book. You can tell my kids go to an L.A. school with all these side creative projects going on. I laugh that we are all earthy crunchy folk, though, as we’re writing novels instead of screen plays. Perhaps we will remain poor for such reasons, but the bonds created are rich and truly treasures.

I still have my moments of rumination over Stink, such as “How will our second big wig UCLA doc meeting go on Monday?” (Yes, five months later he finally set up an appointment for me. Note to moms: Advocate, advocate, advocate – with a smile if possible!) In the end, though, if I can chat with others and keep myself busy on positive tasks, life is so much better.

I’m off to finish some writing assignments, but I’ll check back with you Monday if not before. I am looking forward to resting this week and taking some good walks. I’ve been strung the heck out and it’s time to settle back down.

Hope you are all well!

The warble is official. I had hoped against hope he was a squatter. But it turns out this tic has signed a year long lease and is not going to switch apartments any time soon.

Even his acupuncture with the lovely Martina today could not evict him.

On a good note, Stink rarely eye rolls anymore, thanks to his needle sessions.

On a bad note, it’s not curing his vocals.

Either it’s because we need to go back to two times a week.

Or it’s the Wii.

Or it’s just plain because he has T.S..

I won’t lie. I’m fried today. But on the other hand, I’m really trying to see the good in all this. It’s mild. It could be worse. I find myself clinging to faith and seeing this as a test. God has plans for me. He has plans for you. So my kid tics sometimes. So your kid tics sometimes. Guess what, they are amazing people, and so are you.

That’s all I have tonight.

Except for this: When you’re having sex with your husband, right before crucial moments, if he doesn’t want to stop, it can be really fun to have him quote lyrics to really bad 80’s songs. Because really, after a long day of ticking and obessing about if your kid is going to Tarzan his way into a college scholarship, do you really feel like having sex?

If not, but you decide it’s good for the marriage and you remember something about Christian scripture about submitting to your husband – even though mine is an Atheist nerd who I truly feel would be happier humping his hand made light up L.E.D. sculpture – shouldn’t you have a good laugh?

My shining moment happened when I had him scream “Every body… have fun…TONIGHT! EVERYBODY WANG CHUNG TONIGHT!”

I really couldn’t help myself. You should try it.

I am so mad at myself I don’t even want to start a new post.

Instead, I will simply cut and paste what I wrote to my support group this morning.

Either I am terribly human or just a selfish, awful mother. I’m hoping for the first.

You know, I write this blog for moms.

I write for TS New Jersey.

I think I’m doing fine.

Then Tarzan comes back. “Ah ah ah”

It’s light but an annoying warble. Don’t know if it’s from strep or
food cheats or Wii or what, but I’m pissed.

Tonight in the kitchen he warbles very softly.

So I very very softly warble to myself. “Ah ah ah.”

To which he perks up his head and says, “I don’t like when you make
fun of me.”

I have done this before. At least 5 times in five years. It’s not that I’m intentionally mocking him, I’m just so annoyed at that tic- so sad that my little kid’s voice is interrupted by this darn invader – I do it.

I try not to. Given he’s been ticking for so long and it’s only slipped out a little bit is not bad. But it’s enough.

I’m writing this out loud for accountability.

Here I have this amazingly confident kid who is not afraid of others but will have a complex about hs own fxxxin mother if I don’t
back off.

Uggg.

There’s nothing I can really ask for except to tell me to get my friggin’ act together.

And with that, this very human, fried out mama, bids you good night.

May the ah ah ahhhhhs be with you.

I have a friend who I adore. She’s so very real about her kid’s T.S.. She says that when her daughter was eye rolling really badly, she’d rearrange the houseplants on the breakfast table so she wouldn’t have to look.

It might sound drastic and mean.

I call it survival.

And I get it. It’s not that she is a horrible mother. Far from it. She’s a mom who loves her kid so much she feels the pain of every single tic. Every single time.

I have gotten waaaay better at dealing with tics, but even me – who my lovely support group calls “their fearless leader” – has moments of weakness and frustration. When Tarzan came back last week, despite the noises being faint, it sent me on a slow decline.

Yesterday, he was reading and mouth gaping over Captain Underpants.

Oh, and guess what, he is coming down with a cold and possible strep. Duh. Why can’t I remember that so many of his tics are tied into a weakened immune system?

For the first time in a while, I felt true defeat. As I was driving to the doctor’s office, I said to him, “Stink, you need to put that book down right this very second!”

I was frazzled. I am human. Apparently those angel wings I ordered are just not going to arrive from QVC!

I might not rearrange houseplants, but I’ve been known to stick deep diving plugs in my ears when his vocals are relentless.

I’ve made Rex read bedtime stories because I couldn’t handle another throat clear.

I’ve sent him away on weekends to friends I don’t see very often just so I could get a break from the coughing five times/a minute. (And what does he do? Come back tic free. Of course!)

Point of this post? You are not a bad mother if you need a break, feel frustrated, or even rearrange a garden pot or two.

Survival, my friends.

I’m off! It’s my birthday today, and rather than obsess over tics, I went on email and announced to my Friday group “Who can take my kids until 7PM on Tuesday for me!” Two people responded right away – God bless them. My kids saw a movie, at popcorn and maybe even conned them into a drink. ASK IF I CARE.

How about you? What are some of your survival tips? Or do tics not bug you? Or do you just smoke the doobage and eat Cheetos? I hear weed totally calms down tics. But the food dye in Cheetos? Meh.

Well, we had a round of acupuncture today. And Tarzan, nasty little swinging behemoth that he is, has decided he likes it in Stink’s body. No amount of needles could get him to find another spot to “Ah ah ah.”

That all said, Stink’s warble is very light. I have to practice what I’m always preaching to you: This too shall pass.

Do I think acupuncture works? Yes I do. I think he is doing waaaaaay better because of it, combined with a healthy diet. But he has T.S., which means some days he’s just going to tic.

I’d like to use this opportunity to encourage some of you newer moms. It might seem like you’ve figured out T.S.. Perhaps you started a new diet and suddenly all the tics go away for a month. You might convince yourself that you have escaped the clutches of those nasty buggers.

But then they make their return. And you are NOT happy.

Which I get.

But after doing this for five years, I can promise you that it does get easier. Not only will you become more accepting of what you can’t change, but you’ll change the things you can, and have the wisdom to know the difference. That’s the motto around these here parts!

In other news, my son got a haircut tonight.

Combined with shooting some hoops with me in the front yard, I’ve decided he looks like a tween and it’s freaking me out. He loves the game suddenly, and though he’s mostly long legs and wonky dribbles, I’m thrilled he found something physical other than the Wii to look forward to. Time will tell if he finds it fun enough to take on a class or two.

Keeping it short tonight. I have a bit of work to do for my kids’ school, as well as plan on getting to bed at a decent hour. Apparently eight hours of sleep does a world of good when it comes to remaining balanced. That, and writing. I got writing done today at Topanga T’s!

Come to think of it, despite a few more tics, life is feeling pretty darn good these days. I even found a shirt for $1.99 that I just adore. I’ll be wearing it tomorrow. It’s black and white striped with a bit of a puffed sleeve. I kind of look like a Double D Prisoner from the 80’s. I’ll take it.

Love you all.

PS: Anyone else out there find it would be easier to stop tics than keep a little boy’s socks clean?

Stink has been a wee bit more ticky lately. I do mean wee. It’s small enough that I’d gladly take his T.S. the way it is now forever if I could. He just does this occasional minor sputtering with his mouth. And the Tarzan. Gooooooddddd the Tarzan. “Ah ah ah…”

A tingle ran down my spine the other day when I heard it. It was so faint. I’ve probably heard it only about ten times since. But this summer it was so persistent and non-stop, it about drove me mad. It wasn’t until I heard it again, after months of silence, that I remembered how much I really struggled with that one tic.

A friend of mine is going through something herself with her daughter. She’s had a few years of quiet. She thought she had figured out the “cure” for the tics. To have them come back – even if just a small bit – triggered a fearful reaction in her.

I call her response, and mine, PTTD: Post Traumatic Tic Disorder. Perhaps you’ve experienced this phenomenon also. It’s a reminder for me, and for you, that T.S. is a weird disorder. There’s a lot you can do to suppress tics, and accept them, but the biggest gift you can give yourself is to remember that often it rears its ugly head for no apparent reason. The only thing certain is change, right?

That said, I do think part of Stink’s uptick is based on having acupuncture once/week only instead of twice. I had cut down for financial reasons, as well as time (there’s only so many hours after school to get stuff done… two sessions/week of acupuncture is a lot to squeeze in) but I might just have to make it happen twice again. I’ll give it a month and see.

That’s the scoop on me. How are you?