Category: Uncategorized

It’s been a wild ride the past year or so. Just when I get closer to finishing my book, something happens like my mom breaks a hip. Or she gets breast cancer.

But then her hip heals! And she is cancer free! Hooray!

So there is now no excuse to not finally finish that book of mine.

But it’s Spring Break. And really, how much writing can one do when they are surrounded by two children, their three friends, and the neighborhood dog who insists on barking at their front door every day at five begging for treats and play time?

And then there is my husband.  The dude works – a lot. And while I don’t expect him to shower me with attention like our dating days of yore, it does seem that we live in two separate worlds at times and I’m not really sure how that happened.

You see, he used to be this guy.

And I used to be this girl.

And we had this guy

Then my hot boyfriend morphed into this guy

And I morphed into this girl

And while we used to pour our joy into each other

We started pouring it all into them

And while I’m stoked that in some ways we have a wonderful happy together family

I wish that we felt a little more at ease with each other

Instead of trying so hard

But like tonight’s Beauty and the Beast show, which I was so happy to do a profile piece on, I am once again inspired to never give up. Like Tourettes, it’s imperative to find the beauty beneath the beast. In all our relationships, we must turn our compasses toward the lyrics of the main song: “Bitter sweet and strange… finding we can change… learning we were wrong.”

I am not perfect. Nor is my husband.

This life… it’s not always the fairy tale we expected before we had kids or were married.

But I’m thinking that no one has it all. And like the many shows I see that seem so together, I must never forget the hard work that goes into it. The days and days of choreography and practice and sweat and tears for the final applause at the end.

What a gift it was to spend the entire evening with my beautiful daughter, who went from this girl

To this one

She is kind and elegant and quick to laugh and forgive.

So must I be.

The takeaway: Don’t give up because of a bad day, because in the end, there promises to be a positive review after a wonderful performance.

Thinking of you all tonight.

Easter and Passover are here. Didn’t we just have Christmas? How is this possible?

As it is for us every Spring, Stink’s tics are up. Part of it has to do with the pollen. Part of it has to do with the fact that he is recovering from strep throat. AGAIN. Some of it has to do with more video games and food cheats than usual this weekend. Maybe some of it has to do with extra school work?

Oh, and some might just have to do with the fact that tics come and go. They come and go. Ah, yes, they come and go.

I’m not overly worried. A squeak here, a gulp there. Am I annoyed? YES. But do I know he’ll be fine? Absolutely.

We are out of his regular supplements. He’s just taking his Juice Plus (vitamins) and his focus pill. At some point I will plunk down the cash for his other regime. 

I suppose I’m just done trying to fix this. I can’t. I’m happy where he is right now. He’s a well-adjusted kid who tics. Could be worse.

I am not trying to sound cavalier. I still take my Zoloft. I still go to therapy once/week. But much of that has to do with my own artist desires being squelched as I put my real spirit aside to raise my kids. While on one hand I’d like nothing more than to go writing 60 hours/week for some TV show, in my heart (and I don’t mean this in some martyr way) I know my place right now is here with my kids.

So I write for my local paper and do theatre reviews. (Hooray for front row orchestra seats on Tuesday for Beauty and the Beast!)

I do profile pieces for my daughter’s best friend’s papa who is a world renown artist. (See the piece on John Paul Thornton here)

I start my own websites on theatre reviews because maybe, just maybe, I will do this for pay one day.

And then I, very slowly, work on my book on Tourette Syndrome.

I don’t have the answers for tics. And I don’t attempt to have any answers for life. But one thing I know is that there is a season for everything – for calm and for chaos. For twitches and stillness. For valleys and highs.

I am learning to be content in less than peaceful circumstances, and I am ever so grateful.

What do you do when you are not worrying about Tourettes? Have you made any progress in that department? Does it help that I continually remind you that a kid with tics who is confident is better than a kid without tics who is a dweeb?

I love you all.

I love your kids.

We are in this together.

Andrea

* Pic of Stink at the end of his fourth grade year. I’m not sure what happened, but he went from a chubby cheeked mama’s boy to a moppy haired boy band inspired pre-teen who won’t let me kiss him in front of his beloved teacher. Little shixxxt.

Stink’s tics have been pretty minimal lately. We’ve got the jaw thrusts and the occasional shoulder shrug. We’ve got here and there light vocals. Yesterday in the library, he started in on this whole squat and stomach rumble and my first response was, “New tic? Meh, it’ll pass.” Turns out something else had to pass. (Yes, he needed to use the bathroom.)

I am stoked on two levels:

1. I’m getting a heck of a lot better in accepting that we will have good and not good days. No need to fear.

2. I’m also adopting a huge attitude of gratitude. Things in so many areas of my life could be a heck of a lot worse. Take this article from the Tourette Center of New Jersey. It’s written from a mom who has had a whole lot more to deal with than I have and likely you have.

If you are new to T.S. and are in that fearful place of “My son or daughter is going to bark like a dog non-stop and end up in a facility OH MY LITTLE BIRDIE” then please don’t click on that link. It’s one that will speak to your biggest worry.

I am not normally a fan of such articles – for no other reason being that so many of the hype related T.S. stories have to do with the sensational side of Tourettes. So many more people live lives like I do (and likely you do) where symptoms are manageable. I prefer to live by those examples.

And yet, some people don’t have it so easy. Like the mom who wrote the most recent article for Jersey. Or the link inside the article pointing out another family having a hard time paying off medical bills.

When you see articles like this, are you relieved that your child is doing a bit better? Does it scare you? Are you able to think about supporting another couple or mom financially or with some kind words to let them know they are not alone?

It’s past my kids’ bedtime. I have to read to them and say a few prayers. With tacos in our bellies, and a night of friends and Grandma and some silly laughs over their impromptu play, I have a lot to be grateful for.

Til next time.

Thanks to everyone who has checked in on me. It’s been kind of a crazy couple weeks around here. I was really sick with an exhausting chest cold. Stink had his tenth birthday party. It was my birthday last week. Plus I’m taking my mom to doctor appointments here and there, doing my volunteer work, trying to exercise and, oh yeah, my book.

I’ve made a final commitment to really push that sucker out. I won’t feel “done” until it’s done.

I suppose it’s taken a while to finish for a few reasons:

1. I don’t want to go back to that dark place I was in which is often what happens when revisiting old wounds.

2. I’ve had other things on my plate, like making actual money through little Ebay sales here and there.

3. I have wondered if I’m just being a narcissist writing this book. Is it therapy for me or is it really going to help someone?

All this has been floating through my mind, and sometimes even makes me feel a bit panicked, but I finally had an epiphany, and it goes like this:

I feel this story needs to get out. I feel I can help people. I also feel that I can always go “work” at some job that brings in a grand/month. I can always turn up the heat on Ebay and make a little more on used clothing or flipping sale items from boutique stores.

But what is my passion? What makes my heart sing?

For me, it’s writing. It’s connection to others. It’s to let others know that they are not alone in their struggles and fears over their child’s tics.

And, where I’m most convicted (and where I feel peace about this being a two-year book process because stories don’t unfold overnight) I want to show the restoration in the suffering.

Forgive me for always going back to my faith, but for me, it comes down to Jesus dying on a cross. What’s the point in all that suffering if he wasn’t going to rise again?

What is the point in suffering over tics if we aren’t going to rise over the pain it causes (or fear of pain) and see the true meaning behind it? The value in accepting what we can’t change? The value in changing what we can? The wisdom in knowing the difference? The glorious recognition that our souls are far more enriching and exciting than our outside appearances?

I don’t know about you, but had my son not been diagnosed with Tourettes, I never would have been slammed so hard against the wall. I would never have had to feel the anguish and the pain and then do what all change makers do: Make a choice to move ahead anyway.

I want all of you to know that your child’s tics SUCK. I get it. But there is more to the story. Don’t give up on Chapter 1. Let your child’s life be one of adventure and depth regardless – of hurt and healing and restoration!

And perhaps, just perhaps, my book can be about that, too.

One of my resolutions this year is to write more, both at this blog to support other moms and for my career.

With that in mind, I reached out to my local papers with a pitch I had. They both accepted it. It was to interview Cathy Rigby – of gymnast fame – who is starring as Peter Pan at the Pantages in Los Angeles.

What started out as an interview for press purposes quickly became a 15 minute encounter with a woman who is short in height but high in spirit. I don’t know what to say other than “She gets it.” She is a big believer in allowing our kids to fail to build life skills. She promotes the journey, not the destination. She doesn’t believe that we ever have to stop transforming and stop building on what we have.

In addition to my article being published in local papers, I published it on my own blog here. I figure, slowly but surely, I will build up a reserve of quality articles and stories that give me more opportunity to work for myself instead of editors.

It will give me the chance to surround myself with more quality artists like Cathy Rigby.

It will allow me to focus on the positive in the human spirit, not just the buzz of the celebrity bandwagon.

Like Tourettes (or any kind of diagnosis in our children) it’s so important to focus on the gifts that come our way – not just the “flaws” that we want to fix.

Life itself is messy and sticky and gooey. We can do our best to cure what we can, but at some point, we have to accept what is. Like Peter Pan, we must choose to soar above it.

“But how? How do I do it?” you might wail.

To which I will tell you, “One day at a time. One tic at a time. With the support of other Lost Boys (and Girls) like yourself who are willing to do the extra work to find the peace of Neverland. And a little bit of joy…which I’ll call pixie dust.”

My pixie dust is my writing which is really connection with others. What is yours?

And, as always, hug that ticker of yours today! If you can’t fix the tics, fix yourself!

PS: Tonight, I’m off to Opening Night with my daughter. I am looking foward to some quality time with her, a good show, the kindness of strangers when she inevitably falls asleep at the end of the second act and I need someone to help me to my car, and a good cup of coffee to get me home to my other Darlings.

Love you all. It’s going to be okay!

Andrea

It was a busy weekend but a productive one as we slowly but surely put our house in order after our post-Christmas madness.  There’s something deliciously satisfying about puttering and organizing when there’s not a ton of pressing “must do’s” crowding the task. Instead of being a chore, it becomes a delight as taking the iron out of the closet results in finding that stray shoe or the random picture of Pipsqueak as a newborn sucking off my cheek for nourishment.

Rex did about ten loads of laundry. Pipsqueak did a lot of reading. I checked in on my mom whose hip is slowly healing. As a family we all took a dip in the YMCA pool during Family Swim time. And Stink played the Wii.

Ahh, yes, the Wii.

Many of you might recall a fierce battle played on this sucker, and it wasn’t between Stink and a first person shooting character. It was over the damn plumber, Mario. This post, along with many prior, detail our epic exchange.

My issue with Mario, and the Wii in general, was 2 fold:

1. It seemed to bring on more jerks than a political campaigning team

2. Stink’s obsession with talking about it at home, at class, in the car and with friends and family (including folk he didn’t know but could perhaps spare a few moments to shoot the shxxt about mushroom magic) was ANNOYING. It was affecting his school work, and more important, my sanity.

The final nail in the coffin arrived after one mother at school – a particularly intense woman who cooks organic, gluten free and dairy free with the same tenacity as a dog gnawing on a grass-fed cow bone – drove the point home that video games was about the worst thing a parent could give her children. Her points included many from This article (though this is not the one she gave me) as well as from this book: Failure to Connect.

“We’re off the Wii, just like we had to take you off the DS!” I told Stink. “Your body can’t handle it!”

Stink cried, I breathed a sigh of relief, but then something crazy happened.

He ticked anyway.

I’m not sure if it was the pressure from State testing. Perhaps the new Intuniv we were on for focus. Maybe the dander from some cat ten miles away that got kicked into our smog-filled Valley air and landed in his nostrils on a windy Thursday morning while he was lagging getting into our French fry smelling dirty SUV for one more day of almost being late to school. But the tics were back with a vengeance.

So it wasn’t the video games only!

Duh.

And that is when, after a lot of contemplation/meditation/prayer, I decided to let Stink play the video games again.

He doesn’t have free reign. He has limits.

Stink’s Video Game Routine

* NONE Monday – Thursday

* Friday – One hour after school

* Saturday – One hour (with breaks in between)

* Sunday – 1/2 hour after church

Rules for Play

* He gets a timer (a piggy timer, to be exact). He turns the little fat pink head for 30 minutes and plays. If he goes over his time, he loses out on the next 30 minutes.

* I use it as incentive to get chores done in addition to his current jobs. “Hey, Stink, I really need my car cleaned! Tell you what… spend 20 minutes cleaning out the school papers from 2009 and I’ll give you five more minutes on the Wii!” It’s an amazing bargain.

My Current Thoughts on Video Games

Stink’s tics are still minimal, so like some folk who like wine, I’d rather not throw away the baby with the bath water. Our motto: Have a glass of Mario here and there. If you start slobbering like a fool and can’t concentrate on your family and friends because you’re drunk on electronics, it’s time to detox yet again.

As for the mom who ferociously clings to her manual for non-electronic child rearing, she also followed me out to the car a few weeks ago to tell me that she was doing “Just a little research” on rubber ducks – one of Stink’ s many collections. In low and confidential whispers through my car door window, she said that some quackers have been recalled from China due to chemicals or crazy toxins or something else I could not catch because my head was spinning in disbelief over our conversation. (At least I knew now why the duck Stink had given her son as a gift – one her son had wanted – was sitting on the Welcome Mat outside her door when I went to pick Stink up from their weekly writing meeting.)

For her, no snark intended, that’s a fine way to parent. Her son is truly adorable and sweet and she is a very good and concerned mama. I have learned a lot from her. But for me, this borders on fear induced parenting. Yes, we need to keep our kids safe, but at what cost? When do we protect the body but lose the soul?

I say “Duck You” to extremity. Like my kid’s toys, if a little squeaking results from a whole lot of fun (within reason) then I am okay.

Is your child affected by video games of any kind? I would love to know.

Come check me out over at the New Jersey Center for Tourette Syndrome where this column is syndicated. Lots of awesome parents over there and kids who write about all things tic related!

* Photo on top taken of Miss L, Pip and Stink doing their signature “lice hug!” (They can be social as they want, but I can’t go through the Lice Fiasco of 2010 EVER AGAIN, nor can my husband. I think he’d rather pay the “Lice Fairy” another $200 to sit in our beat up kitchen and pull nits than hear me ruminate for hours about if RIT – the hair chemicals sold at Rite Aid and other fine over the counter establishments – does or does not induce throat clears or head nods. Who can blame him? Check out the kids. They could be cast in a Tim Burton movie!)