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When Will It Be Enough? Oh, You Mean NOW?

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Sometimes at the end of a long sub day

The kids come home and there’s hell to pay

The dishes from morning are still in the sink

There’s a lamp on the table and it sure makes me think,

“Why do I cook and do shopping and clean

And all of the other shxxx all in between

While they can do school and come home and relax

I swear those ungratefuls can go kiss my… donkey.”

And then I remember

They’re only teenagers!

With just a few short years left

Don’t you think you should savor

The fact they do homework? That they don’t argue much?

When, Andrea, when, will it be enough?

When your son stops his ticcing?

When you sell your next book?

When you get on a show?

When you hire a cook?

When you hire a maid?

When you get a new car?

Perhaps what you want is not really that far

You’ve got cars to drive in

You’ve got water to run

You’ve got food in the fridge

In a nutshell… you’ve won!

Stop waiting for Stink to stop making those sounds…

For the toilet seat lid to just for once to go down

The magic is happening… RIGHT AS YOU TYPE

With the neighbor kid laughing and the sweet pumpkin spice

That’s in my diffuser

Plus there’s chill in the air

It’s Fall time at last

And these days, I swear

It’s becoming more clear

That’s it’s my attitude

That keeps me most happy

That indeed sets the mood

So I’ll set all boundaries

I’ll remind them of dishes

I’ll have them fold laundry

But this mom – she wishes

To remember that mostly

This time… it’s so short

It seems yesterday, friends, they were setting up forts

And now they have cell phones

And geometry tests

So I’ll do what I can

But let God do the rest

In closing I wish

That no matter your deal

You’ll focus on things that are precious and real

The hugs and the smiles

The books by the fire

Because when kids are gone

And it’s time to retire

You’ll miss all the chaos

(Yup, even “those” sounds)

And wish those sweet donkeys were still coming around.

Until next time,

May God grant you the serenity to accept the tics you cannot change, the courage to change the tics you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

My book is available on Amazon. Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. (Yes, I’m back on Facebook for work mainly!)

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Uncertainty: Do or Don’t Do (But Don’t Complain!)

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I’m subbing these days for the LA Unified School System. It’s terrifying and thrilling all at once. I love the kids. I love the bell schedule. It’s comforting to know that no matter how awful a hormonal middle schooler can be that in fifty five minutes he will, indeed, get off his desk and turn his cell phone on in someone else’s classroom.

What I don’t love about subbing is how inconsistent it can be. Some weeks I am on top of the world – everyone’s favorite sub and putting out flames like Miss Frizzle on a firetruck. Other days it’s slow. It’s me at 530am, barely awake with my phone on my chest, hoping above hope that the phone will ring – I can stumble through a quick shower – and I’ll be able to put 200 bucks in my bank account.

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Add in the fact that I need to book at least 100 days this year to qualify for insurance for next year and the pressure, like Donkey Kong, is on.

When I start to question my sanity on doing this job, rather than get a 9-6 office job or stay at the steady eddy school aid job that paid very little but gave me insurance, I have to remember a few things:

Reasons for Taking Chances

  1. Not working on certain days this entire week damnit would give me a chance to write my tv pilot! My dream! I am doing just that.
  2. Working as a sub would give me a better understanding of what it takes to teach. (I’m getting that. What used to terrify me now makes me a bit giddy. Who knew I could handle 46 stinky general ed 7th graders, or a class of 9 non-verbal/diaper wearing 8th graders, and not lose my cookies? It’s been an incredibly exciting challenge and full of personality and joy.)

The Uncertainty of Life

The issues I am facing with both the writing as well as the work is that they are both incredibly uncertain. Maybe I’ll get called for the day, maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll sell a script, maybe I won’t. (Oh, and tics? Those are kind of uncertain also. Fun times, this uncertainty!) Bottom line: I can’t have it both ways. There is ZERO point in taking these leaps of faith if I’m going to complain, protest and be a general crazy person for my family. (This week taught me that. As of this moment, I am putting it down. Dear Courage, Dear Jesus, I’m ready… Bring it on! And please bring coffee, too. Panic attacks are so much better with Starbucks.)

Fantasy vs. Reality

Let’s get real: The chances of selling like a show, at my age, are slim. It’s not that I am not talented, but it’s so much more than that. This business, as I am experiencing yet again through a class I’m taking, is incredibly, incredibly laced with competition, fear and desperation. I was told by more than a few students in my class that I came on “too strong” and like I had “something to prove.” The truth? I did have something to prove. I wanted people to know I could write! But guess what? They didn’t care! And that’s, sadly, the reality of this business. EVERYONE wants EVERYONE to know how good they are. It’s not just about writing well, it’s about navigating complicated personalities. Knowing when to open your mouth and when to just shut up. The truth? I failed and it cost me a potential workshop win.

Truth vs. Lies

Losing the contest was a bigger blow than I had anticipated. I originally told myself, “It’s just one class… get used to it…” but I’m realizing now the wound went much deeper. It triggered a core belief I had about myself… a belief that turned out to be a lie. And that’s this: Somewhere along the way I told myself this big story that unless I sell a TV show I’m a loser.

Typing it out loud, it sounds so silly, but deep in my gut, my motivation for this genre was flawed. And flawed never works. Even if I sold something, I’d be happy for a bit, but then that roaring lion would come out soon again, taunting me with its “You’re not good enough” barbs and roaring at my inadequacies.

My dear friend, Barbs, said it best, “Andrea, it’s not about writing. It’s about your idol. As soon as you make something bigger than God you are going to lose out on your true purpose for doing what you do. Set it down. See what happens.”

Purpose

And so, on that note, I leave you with the idea of purpose. What is your purpose? What do you do when you think it’s one thing and it turns out, maybe, that God has other plans? Ex: I thought for a long time my purpose was to STOP THOSE TICS. And guess what? That was not the case. In terms of T.S., the purpose there was to teach me to not be so controlling – to accept my son for who he was. (Note: I fail with this a lot.)

With the writing, I know my purpose, beyond a shadow of a doubt, is to do this. But in what form? I don’t know. But God does. And until I am willing to surrender outcome 100% to him, everything else will be just a false idol of ego and proving that in the end will leave me flat.

A teacher I really respect, Graham Cooke, talked about this today.

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I don’t know where I’m going these days, but I know that God knows. So for today, just for today, I will finish up that pilot for a workshop I didn’t win, and once again remember that when my sweet ticker comes home from school, it’s not about me wishing he would make different choices with his Tourettes. My son knows he is a child of the King whose voice deserves to be heard. And, whether in Hollywood, books, magazines or just here in my beautiful new office, mine does, too.

And so does yours.

Until next time,

May God grant you the serenity to accept the tics you cannot change, the courage to change the tics you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

My book is available on Amazon. Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebookbookcover profile pic

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Acceptance Begins with Sleep! And Coffee Never Hurts

Summer is officially over. I went from hiking each dawn with some fellow teachers and mornings of glorious reading and meditation, to the grind “Mom, have you seen the cheese?” and “We need 1 million and 1 school supplies RIGHT NOW LET’S GO RIGHT AFTER SCHOOL!”

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Yesterday I was up at 445 AM for a meeting and didn’t go to bed until 1030 PM. Add in a visit to my mom, getting my kids to and from their first day of high school, picking my daughter back up and taking her for a Starbucks treat and taking care of a dog who insists on jumping through our living room windows, it was nuts.
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I write this not to earn a badge of courage. I write it to say that some days are just unmanageable. Fears come in. For those of you who read my book, you know it’s Rhonda, the voice of an old school yard bully. “How are you ever going to finish that writing pilot? What if you don’t win that contest? Your life is over! What about that messy office? No wonder you aren’t a successful writer! And by the way, those five pounds from not hiking are starting to creep back in. Watch it, Tubby!” (She’s a real bitch, that one.)
 
This morning, instead of freaking out, a nicer voice entered my head. Her name is Glinda, named after the Good Witch of the West, and she gently whispered, “Andrea, you need to rest on days you can. There’s no shame in celebrating some silence. And your curves – muy magnificente! And by the way, class or no class, you just sold an idea to a producer for another TV pilot. No pay now, but it’s great on your resume, so let’s just concentrate on what is real joy, not future fear, okay? Toodles!”)
 
I took her advice. And while Glinda would never take off her tiara and her bra, I did. Today the hanging twins and I took advantage of my husband driving the kids to school and no substitute teaching calls and slept in until 9. We sipped coffee, nibbled on toast, and watched three episodes of Call the Midwife.
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I was reminded once again through the lives of these nuns and young nurses that love comes in many forms. That in birthing babies we birth new ideas. That in burying ill friends or toxic relationships, we can let go of thoughts and patterns that don’t work for us.
For me, it’s realizing I’m doing a lot better than I sometimes think. That perhaps I never found a cure to tics, but am trusting that in allowing my son – my very ticky and twitchy son – to be exactly who he is, that this just might be a cure to what the world needs most: acceptance for who we are just as we are designed, not how others want us to be.
 
Last night I walked into Stink’s room to say good night and I heard a sound out of his chest that I had never heard before. These muffled honks came out while he was happily pounding his keyboard, writing to a good friend from 10th grade. My gut clenched. (I can’t lie. Each time it gets me. More to come on a diagnosis that explains a lot!) 
“You’re never going to get used to this. Give up now,” Rhonda snapped at me. But then Glinda came in. “Give yourself a break. Go upstairs, put on the loud fan, and go to bed. You’re worth it. And so is your son. He just needs you to love him as he is.”
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So with the power of a mom who loves this kid more than I can say. I kissed him good night and headed upstairs. I fell asleep fast – not out of sadness or despair, but from knowing that I spent a day doing what God asked of me: being of service, letting go of my old ideas, and loving my child just as he needs at this moment of his life.
What Can I Change? What Can You Change?
 
I can’t change my son’s decision to not medicate his tics, but I can change the grease on my kitchen cabinets.
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I can tape off the walls of my office so my husband can spray a neat white line on the ceiling.aa.jpg
And I can remind you that, if you’re hurting or lonely, you are not alone. Change what you can, and give the rest back to God. Because take it from me – the answer is not in fixing things or getting what we want. It’s would be nice! (Believe me, I’m ready for tics to end and get a TV writing gig to make some cash again!) But true serenity comes in loving what we have, not what we don’t.
And we can do this every day, one day at a time, with good friends, a little faith and, if you’re like me, a little coffee and hiking never hurts.

Until next time…

May God grant you the serenity to accept the tics you cannot change, the courage to change the tics you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

My book is available on Amazon. Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. (Yes, I’m back on Facebook for work mainly!)

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It’s Summer Time!

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Hello dear reader –

It’s summer! The job from hell is over! I did not lose my blessed ward and I did not lose my mind. I came close on a few occasions, but I did it!

I’m happy to report that I’ll be substitute teaching next year while I… drum roll… dip my toe back into the water of TV writing. It’s my dream and I’ve decided that at 48 it’s do or die. My daughter starts high school, Stink is already a Sophomore, and I’m kind of funny when I want to be, so off I go. I followed through on this post and actually wrote a Grace and Frankie for the Warner Bros. TV Writing Contest.

I’m now actively involved with another contest where I go every other Saturday for a month and hopefully get chosen to be one of twenty to work on a new pilot with a top show runner. Prayers, finger crossing and fasting welcomed for this hopeful mama!

Keeping it short for now. But my kid, well, he’s not short. He’s my sweet, ticking SIX FOOT FOUR wonder child. I adore him. (This summer he’s having his new posse of friends from high school over for pizza and game nights. He is heavily involved in “Nerd Club” at school, plays Magic the Gathering, and walks around with a pink basket some girl gave him to house his anime cat. 5 A’s and a C this semester. Just goes to show that when we let our fears of who we think our kids go, our kids can rise to the occasion every time. In my case, he has risen a whole head above me and he’s not stopping anytime soon.)

Until next time,

May God grant you the serenity to accept the tics you cannot change, the courage to change the tics you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

My book is available on Amazon. Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on FB

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On Crap Jobs and God

sunlight monster

I work full time as a special needs aid for the LA Pubic School system. Given that I used to write television, it wasn’t exactly my dream job to wittle away my hours playing body guard to a 5 foot 8 fifteen year old with low functioning autism. Strong and defiant, she wears a diaper, steals “magical markers” from fellow students’ desks and screeches more than Trump in a female locker room.

I am well aware that I’m not “living up to my abilities” when I get on Facebook and see friends of mine from my Showtime days staff writing on Disney shows and co-producing How I Met Your Mother. But, at the end of day, lest I sound like I’m making excuses, my very unglamorous job is far more glamorous in the long run as it provides me what I desire most: Insurance for my family… the ability to be home each day by 3PM to pick up my teenagers from school… to not be so bogged down in my own life I can’t sit with Stink at 4PM each day to hear about his robotic project roadblocks or Pip’s desire to join the rock climbing team. (An extra $175/month? Sure… let me poop that out of my butt. Or, on a less sarcastic note, let me focus on some better freelance gigs to make it happen. And let me be grateful my husband’s IT business is starting to really take off.)

Yes, my gig allows me connection to my children and husband, but most of all, it gives me an amazing opportunity every single day to practice my spiritual program.

Spirituality in a Crap Job? Yes

For some, a spiritual program means church – and don’t get me wrong – I adore my ridiculously large/not quite mega church/but not your garden variety chapel thanks to its rock band worship team and elevators. (And coffee… we can chug it like caffeinated apostles it in the main sanctuary. #StarbucksJesus.) But more than on Sunday’s, I’ve found God can be seen quite clearly in the things we naturally might despise. In my case, it’s a terribly tough job both emotionally and physically. What God has shown me, though, are truths that have forever altered my mindset, such as referring to my insanely exhausting and taxing struggling ward as my “blessed student”.

A Mind Shift Changes Everthing – Here’s Mine

* My blessed student can play in the mud all she wants, but I don’t have to.

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* My blessed student can attempt to run from me 20 times a day (and she does) but i don’t have to bolt from my challenges.

* My blessed student can remain undisciplined and loud, but I can stay disciplined with my daily book writing before school and get quiet in my own head about what’s important.

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Today my blessed student almost bolted out the front gate. She screamed so loud during lunch that my only option was to remove her from fourth period and stick her in the garden – hoping beyond hopes she wouldn’t decide to escape and trip over a wooden vegetable post hidden beneath thick weeds and crack her head open. Thankfully she sat in peace under a shady tree and serenely pulled weeds.

Like that garden bed, my dreams sometimes seem hidden behind the weeds of worry. Deep in that mud is where my Under Achievement monster lives, lurking below my “I got this” surface with its taunts and barbs. “You suck. You are not doing enough. Give up.” But out in the sunlight… in my gut where God lives… I know that they are not weeds at all. They are seeds that are being nurtured so that my family and writing can grow healthy and strong. One day I’ll have that new book, or that new show, or that camel musical. But for now, I have peace in less than peaceful circumstances. I’m not a show runner, but I’m not running from my own head anymore. And for my family and own peace of mind, that’s enough.

How about you? Any weeds in your life that are actually seeds? And how does growing that attitude help you in your life?

My book is available on Amazon. Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on FB.

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That Time I Got Fired from the PTA…

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Okay, I wasn’t really fired a few months back. I was just told, by text, that perhaps I might be a better fit in a big picture role. “One that doesn’t require you losing important files and actually being able to make planning meetings with the rest of the moms who, well, actually not only remember to post things before they are due but don’t take home 3-ring binders full of volunteer sign-ups and only return it when reminded about it two weeks later.”

In truth, the person who texted me did not say that last part. She was more than gracious. Her words, in essence, said, “I’m thinking we should find a better role for your talents before your challenges become a problem.”

My ego: “Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Who needs you!”

The reality… the really hard, “Crap I hate to admit it” truth: “Thank you. You saved me… and everyone else… a ton of headache long term.” She even sent me a Brene Brown book with a very sweet note attached. It was touching and only reinforced more that sometimes pride must be put down. Friends don’t let friends make butts of themselves. As J.K. Rowling says in the first Harry Potter, ““It takes a great deal of courage to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends.” – Albus Dumbledore.

Magical vs. Miraculous Thinking

Similar to a lot of things in life, I like the idea of stuff a lot more than I like the reality of it. Ex – Magical Thinking: My after-work life is going to include hob-nobbing with  vegan moms in pencil skirts wearing amazing yoga pants and washing down GMO free delights with organic wheat grass smoothies!

Ex: Miraculous Thinking: AKA Reality: My after-work life will include powering through post-school meetings (if I even show up at all… my kid is in eighth grade… we’re both over it) to show up early for 12-step meetings where I can huddle over really bad dark coffee with other moms like me, laughing about our fantasy thinking (the more screwed up the better!) and feeling like I’ve arrived – finally – at the right watering hole.

Lest it comes off like I’m some nut job who can’t get my act together, let me be the first to say that it’s far that. Instead, I’m finally starting to see who I am: I’m not better than anyone else or worse than anyone else. I’m right in the middle where the grace lives. Where I can wade and sometimes splash in the beautiful, messy and ridiculous waves of, “Well, that was a disaster but at least I tried!” It’s so much better than sitting on the shore watching everyone else surf (or drown.) And If I’m lucky, I might even score a free beach ball.

God is great – because He lets you practice your thinking over and over… and (in my case) over again!

Today, as I drove home from downtown Los Angeles, I had an opportunity to choose magical vs. miraculous thinking. Once again, a job I thought I had in the bag – one that would be really good for my family – didn’t work out. I was offered the opportunity to do something else – one that would require I go back to school at night.

At first I was honored and my brain started to spin with the oh-so-familiar, “What if this is the life-line I need? What if this is God telling me to put down the writing for a bit and go for the safe route? I could decorate my classroom like the Magic School Bus? I could learn how to play the guitar and buy cute shoes with school books on them. And I could face my fear of angry parents during I.E.P. meetings!”

But, to quote one of my favorite lines from Moonstruck, “Playing it safe is one of the worst things a girl like you can do.”

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What if my whole life I haven’t actually been hitting road blocks from trying? What if it’s been from trying too hard to play it safe? What if, like so many dreamers out there, God might just have me exactly where I am? Finishing up that book proposal… working on that movie idea next… coming back to this blog… going to my 12-step groups… going to church… and remembering that who I am, exactly at this moment, is exactly where I’m meant to be?

And with the right Good Will find, a 1960’s pencil skirt might be in my future yet.

What’s up with you all!?

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(Brene Brown talks a lot about having the courage to fail. Quote idea from one of her Ted Talks.)

My book is available on Amazon. Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on FB.

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Faith, Supplements and Hope: Welcome!

After everything we went through this summer and last Spring with UCLA and their “wonderful” Intuniv program, Stink’s tics are worse than ever. His focus is up, but what is the trade off? The ability to sit still while clicking 50 times/minute plus, oh this is a fun one, at least three shudders/minute? Should we get on yet another medication to help ease this? Maybe some nice narcotic? And then, down the road, shall we go with an anti-depressant to ease some of the social stigma from all the stares and questions about his tics?

NONSENSE.

I am easing away from this stupid drug and all these ridiculous labels about what it means to have T.S.. I always say it, but far greater than a “classification” for symptoms is confidence, and God bless Stink, he has it in spades.

I am not going down the drug route anymore unless absolutely necessary.

And, as fate will have it, UCLA isn’t returning my call anyway. I have tried, for 2 months, to get a hold of Dr. McCracken, via email and phone. He had promised me, after we thought we found a silver bullet in helping Stink’s tics and focus, to tweak the meds if there was a problem. HELLO THERE IS A PROBLEM! But where is Dr. McCracken? Likely busy with yet another study that is funding his research or perhaps a child with more severe issues than Stink.

Which is fine with me. I wish him no ill will. He is very good at what he does.

But I’m good at what I do. It’s called calling B.S. when I see B.S..

I will moderate these tics with diet and some better supplements and, in three months, I will have good news to share with you!

Until then, please love your kids for who they are, not their tics. They are worth it. Life is short. Our kids are growing up fast. Time, like our kids, is ticking. Don’t let fear and a medical community who only knows “pills” tell you how to raise your kid. If the drugs work for you, yeah! But if they don’t, do not give up hope. There is always another way. And that way, my friends, is perseverance and faith and some mama kick butt humor and strength. We’re all in this together.

Next post: Supplements! We started today. I’ll keep you posted.

Tics, Tourettes

Brain Balance, Change, Cancer and More!

WARNING: Loooooong post ahead. I am not journaling these days, but I need to. Lucky for me, I have a blog to fill in the gap! Sadly for you, it’s a mouthful. You were warned.

I don’t know about you guys, but there’s a lot of change in the air around the Frazer household.

Renting a Room We’re in the process of bringing in a renter. She’s a lovely assistant at the kid’s school who doesn’t have a car. She’s thrilled to walk the one mile to campus each day rather than take the bus. We’re thrilled because it will give my husband something we both need so badly: Time. The kids love this lady, so to work off rent, she’ll watch the kids 10 – 20 hours a month, giving Rex and I an opportunity to breathe.

Upon hearing we’ve consolidated our livingroom/TV room into one room, turned the dining room into an office, and turned the office into a bedroom for R, most people are really shocked. We get one of two reactions:

1. You only have 3 bedrooms! Why are you doing this!?

2. I can’t believe Rex – who is so private – thinks this is a good idea!

The answers to those inquiries are quite simple:

1. We have needed to get rid of crud for years. The kids aren’t ready to transition to their own rooms yet, so why not get a little income to fix up the house before they finally separate next year?

It’s taken one month of solid work, but we’ve disposed of about 800 square feet of stuff, leaving us with more room and organization than ever before.

2. Rex is as ready as I am to take some of the pressure off, both financially and emotionally. He can’t work 60 hours a week and then always be the beacon of calm when I’m freaking out over Stink’s tics which, is less and less these days, but some weeks I’m human. Last week? Not good. I could use some adult conversation on the nights my hub works late. Also, I am ready to build out my office to get writing work again, but need a better place to create in. The renter is our answer.

Stink’s Tics

Regarding Stink, the tics are still pretty yukky. I’ve decided to go full bore and save for Brain Balance. This is the one time I will mention here that I am accepting donations for this. After I’ve saved $ for Stink, all additional income, minus a small amount I will keep as compensation for writing this blog, will fund other children and families to go to Brain Balance or get additional support in their area for tics.

Please don’t feel obligated to give me a penny. I’ll keep on writing here forever. I just figured, with so many people with less worthy causes making $ off their blog, I would finally try and create a small stream of income for something I find quite worthwhile.

Note: I am open to comments telling me I’m extremely tacky to do this when I have a husband with a decent paying job. I would not disagree. At the same time, I’ve always been quite honest that Rex and I disagree over therapy for tics. He thinks Stink is fine the way he is – which is awesome. Me? I think there’s more we can do. Rex and I have agreed to disagree that if we are going after Brain Balance, this is my project to fund. He will be more than happy to support us and cheer us on, but he  is concerned with saving for college and things that will definitely be in our future, not the maybe’s of an alternative program.

House Transition

Here are some pictures of our progress with the house. Believe it or not, it has taken hours and hours to get cabinets cleaned out. The kids have cried over getting rid of old dressers and bags of plastic toys they don’t need. But in the long run, they are so relieved to have a nice space to call their room. Life, like tics, are always changing. My job isn’t to make them content with everything and spare them from yuk. My job is to give them inner tools to have peace while chaos is happening.

Here are some pics of stuff in progress

LIVING ROOM

We removed a brown couch that was blocking the window. We took out a huge armoire that was taking up space and put the piano there. We now have paths to walk around! Plus, in getting rid of the old, we had room for the new – like the lovely 100-year-old sewing machine you see in the 2nd picture.

Small Fixes: Paint and patch walls, add new photographs as Pip is no longer a new-born, and another cool seat in the corner for more entertaining.)

Dream Fix

OFFICE

The dining room used to look like this

It now looks like this:

Small Fix: Bring the big armoire that is currently storing Ebay stuff (used to be in living room) to the cabin. Bring in old office desk and use the plastic rolling carts for the time being until you can do this:

Dream Fix:

TV Room

It used to look like this

It was very crowded with the art center, the little table, the couch, the TV, the book shelves, the science center…. don’t make me go on. Now the shelves are going into the renter’s room. The old stained couch is gone. We’re building some shelves under the bar area (an un-used space) for all my dishes. The only thing in the room now is the big table and the TV.

Small fix: Take down 1980’s plastic blinds, put up toille curtains. Put a nice curtain over the corner of the TV area (as we don’t want TV in living room) and get a nice tall couch for one side of the table near window that will double as both TV viewing and eating. Build shelves under the bar and cover with a curtain. (Maybe get a nice sideboard when the shelves are moved into the renters room. Shelves not pictured here.) Paint the walls gray and get a chandelier over the center of the table.

Dream fix

RENTER’S ROOM

Here is our old work space office in transition. If you think moving computers into the kids’ shared bedroom, moving 10000 pieces of Ebay into the new “office” and hauling out 10 bags of trash was fun, you would be more wrong than many of the political rants I see on Facebook these days.

But the kid’s room is moving along! Here it is without a good paint job, and with many baskets still on the floor. Not bad for a shared space.

KIDS ROOM

I’m not sure why the last 2 pics won’t right themselves up, but it’s fine. These days life is getting comfortable with things I’m not normally comfortable with. I just know it’s all going to be okay.

Dream Fix (taken from Babble)

OTHER THINGS OF NOTE

Ebay

Today I need to get 20 items of Ebay up today as I’m selling for other people in an attempt to not work for $7/hour retail while I write my book.

Breast Cancer

I need to make an enchilada for a friend who just had breast cancer surgery.

Leukemia

I need to find time to see my other friend, Karen, who is on her third round of chemo for leukemia.

Look how amazing she looks!

Food Shopping

Apparently kids need to eat, and so do Rex and I.

Book

At some point this week I need to write my book some more. I’ve been at a road block which I’ll talk about in the next post.

Ex Husband

My ex-husband died a few weeks ago leaving a 10 year old boy and 2 living parents. He had a random brain tumor. Uggg. We haven’t been close, but I did see him in Christmas, 2011, for a brief visit. I’m glad we caught up and mended some bridges. This was a pic he posted on Facebook with the quote “Me the ex-Mrs. Ingman, taken 19 years after our wedding.” Um, I wasn’t thrilled by that. But hey, that’s FB for you. May you rest in peace, dear Jim!

FINAL THOUGHTS

I don’t know what to say except bring on the tics, bring on the house upheaval, bring on the illnesses. We can this together.

Love you all.

Thanks for listening.