I thought having a kid diagnosed with something I couldn’t control was super scary, but it turns out that life itself terrified me.
From the time I was a little kid, I remember thinking everyone else had the answers and I didn’t know anything. It was like this giant train wreck of loneliness ran through my soul. Other kids seemed to effortlessly kick shiny balls around the field or get up in front of large groups of people and sing, talk or crack jokes. Me? I was the tall kid in the back trying super hard to get an A on the test and want everyone to give me validation for it (at the same time horrified if someone looked my way.)
These feelings eased as I got older – or so I thought – but having children of my own had a way of putting miracle growth on my character defects. These tiny little beings were the love of my life – and while I raised them with a ton of love and magic – fear was always at the bottom of it. “Was I doing it right? Was I managing the diagnosis okay? Were they happy?”
They’re almost full grown now, and I know more than ever now that in the end what they needed, and still need – more than ever – is a mom who is happy with herself. They don’t need one more vacation. One more trip to Disneyland. A full ride scholarship to college. All of that would be nice – don’t get me wrong – but these kids are looking to me still for guidance. And I’m so excited to say that I’m happier now with myself than I ever have been. I haven’t arrived, but I am not that sad, scared person who needs validation from other people. I’m right in the middle where the magic lives.
So much of my personal success I owe to my spiritual walk. To journaling. To showing up at 4 twelve step meetings a week and doing the work. To making a conscious decision to not drink, not blame others, not blame and shame others and, when I feel the old CADS creep up on me (Compare and Despair Syndrome) I talk to someone.
This book, Return to Love, has made such an impact on my life. It reminds me that when I’m in fear, that’s not the real me raising my kids. Only love is real. When I can let go of the outcome and just love my kids unconditionally – which starts with loving ME because God love me me first, things go so much smoother. (It’s more on the spiritual side vs. religious, and that works perfectly for this hippy.)
Life is difficult, but it’s also such a trippy and beautiful ride. I’m so happy to be on it with you all. And mamas, if you’re new to the T.S. world, know that you are not alone. While it can be scary, I promise that if you keep an open mind and learn to love yourself in the process, you will be okay. You really will.
INTERESTED IN TAKING A JOURNALING CLASS WITH ME?
I’m going to be leading two workshops this summer:
For mamas of Tourette Syndrome kids who want to heal through journaling and connecting with other moms in the same boat.
For mamas who want become more authentically themselves through journaling, laughter and joy.
Both will be 4 weeks. I’ll share more as it gets closer. Sign up for my newsletter below or leave a comment! I’d love to have you!
BE PART OF MY NEWSLETTER!
For updates on my recent projects and to get a copy of my newest book, WRITE LIKE A MOTHER, sign up for my newsletter here!
Yes, I am wearing a banana on my head. #nojudgement
Why yes, that’s me, live on the banana cam. Why? Because it’s Tico Tuesday – the day of the joyful taco as well as the reminder that if we can’t fix tics (and other unmanageables in our lives) we can fix ourselves. That often means adding some joy and whimsy to your day.
For me personally, it meant showing up for class even though, sigh, I didn’t want to. And, well, this makes me a not so great candidate to get a degree in teaching. I wanted to get this degree.
THE SKINNY, ON MY NOT SO COVID 5 EXTRA POUNDS SKINNY, ON TRUSTING MY GUT
Listen, people. I wanted to love the stability and the pay check and influencing other kids’ lives. But it came down, yet again, to the very real and true fact that if I’m not doing what I’ve been put on this earth to do, then what am I really teaching young kids? “Suck it up, buttercup, and give up your dreams of gender studies. Stick to business and working for the man, get a great house and raise your kids to be unhappy robots just like yourself.”
FOR MY STABLE JOB PEOPLE – YOU DO YOU!
Note to the business degree people with the nice houses: This is not an affront to you if that is what you want to do! And it’s not an affront to those of you who “have” to do this to put food on the table and feed the kids. I get it! But it is a note to me to trust that I, too, can put food on the table. But I have to do it as myself, not a version of myself that makes not just me miserable but everyone around me.
I finally listened to my Higher Power, who came to me loud and clear during this Covid crisis (oy, it’s been crazy at my house.) Our conversation went like this:
Higher Power: “Andrea, do you have to be a teacher to put food on the table?”
Me: “Um…maybe.”
HIgher Power: “Really?”
Me: “Okay, no.”
Higher Power, “Then why are you doing it?”
Me: “Because I feel like I have to. To be, you know, responsible and shit.”
Enter self-flogging and shame.
Higher Power: “A little deeper, please.”
Me: “Because I want to be consistent for my family.”
Higher Power: “Deeper.”
Me: “Because I don’t trust you and I’m too scared to do what I really have always wanted to do my whole life which is to once and for all finish my musical and start my own writing and coaching business to help other women face their own fears and trust you so they, too, can write their books and heal and create e-books for their businesses and finally step into their own power to be who they were meant to be all along!”
Higher Power: “Now you got it.”
Come back on Tuesdays where we’ll discuss stuff like this! Joy! Tacos! Following our gut! What’s not to love?
CALLING TOURETTES MAMAS!
Here’s your reminder for you mamas with kids with tics. Their spirit is more valuable than their disorder. And the best way to encourage their spirit is to become free yourself.
I swear. That’s it.
Until next Tuesday, enjoy a taco tonight. And if all fails, stick a banana hat on your head, go back to work, and trust God to move forward, one bit at a time, with your authentic purpose. You might find it very… a-peeeeling.
I’m done!
BE PART OF MY NEWSLETTER!
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If your teenager is more interested in his phone than talking to you, then this article is for you. It’s not going to promise you that Jesus will save you both. (Though a higher power is certainly advised to keep you from killing him.)
It’s not going to teach you how to win an argument. (Because fighting with teens is like negotiating with terrorists. It never works.)
But it will give you ten tips that have saved my butt when it comes to dealing with teenagers both at home and at school that have helped me to keep my cool, earn some respect and, when all respect is lost, to at least walk away and not make it worse.
Covid and Hormones and Boundaries, Oh My!
Let’s face it, these are some rough times. If hormones weren’t enough to deal with, Covid swooped in and locked many of us up with people we started not to recognize thanks to the stress of isolation. (The online school work, the lack of a social life, the unending complaints about food and boredom! And that’s just my bad attitude let alone my teens!)
I realized, when crap hit the fan, that I was either going to have to get better at communication or put a huge strain on my relationship with my kids. The second felt pretty sad, so here’s what I did. And while I have a long way to go, I’m getting stronger every day. You can, too. (Psst: Telling them to “Stop pissing your life away sleeping in” isn’t a great strategy. Ahem.)
10 Tips to Keep Boundaries and Relationships Strong with Your Teens When You Would Rather Just Kill Them
Use “I” Statements: In simple terms, I’ve found when I stay away from “you” and keep it on “I” there is much less defense. Ex: “You spoke to me in a way that was super rude” immediately puts their walls up. “I felt very disrespected” keeps it on me and avoids them deflecting back, “You’re manipulating me!”
Pick Your Battles: Does it really matter if your kid doesn’t think Barry Manilow is a real artist and that your food prep skills are, to quote their favorite new game, are “Suss?” Save the argument for when he or she wants to get in a car with a friend wearing a “Hell is Other People” tattooed on their forehead. It’s simply not worth the fight.
Keep It Light: I know… I know… how stressful things can get being home all the time with restless kids. But instead of adding fuel to the fire by walking around like a somber Eeyore, make it a point to play some music. Text them a joke. Buy them a fun snack. Play a video game with them, even if your Minecraft Hut ends up looking more like a pink meth house.
Teenagers won’t always remember Covid as the best time of their life, but by keeping things cheerful as much as possible they can still have happy memories of being with you. Being intentional with your mood change everything.
Sidenote: I can’t tell if that person is actually a teenager, an older man, or a transman. Now that I have one child transitioning, nothing appears as it seems anymore. And perhaps this is for the best. Let people jut play their ukes and be their best unicorn selves. It’s too complicated to control it. Moving on.
4. Timing is Everything: Once a tiger is flippin’ mad, the dumbest thing to do is go poke it with a stick. You’re not “losing” if you choose to wait before you speak. Better to have patience and bring something up when your kid is more receptive to hearing than in the middle of a big blow out. Speaking of…
5. Don’t Yell: I have had my days of yelling at my kids. And later, they’ve told me it really hurt. And you know what? Who can blame them? My dissatisfaction with other areas of my life, displaced on them, didn’t feel good.
Note: I am making living amends to not yell at them again. This doesn’t mean I can’t set boundaries with love, but I don’t rage to make my point. Rage is not power anyway. Only firm rules with love works. (And cash if you have it.)
6. Don’t Threaten: It took me a long time to learn this one, but “Late is Great.” Instead of telling my kids what will happen if they don’t do x, y and z, and amp up the consequences, I simply tell them what the expectations are, and what the logical consequences will be if it’s not done. If I get kick back, I don’t try to blame, shame or case build. I don’t defend my point. I simply say, with no sarcasm at all, “Thank you for sharing.”
7. Have a Meeting of 2: By this, I mean that when you’re upset about something, you don’t need to interrupt a perfectly good outing to the beach to bring up something from the past. Make a time to talk to your teenager when both of you are calm. Keep it to “I” statements and then, here’s the hardest part of all: Listen.
8. Listen: It can be difficult to listen to a teenager’s logic when they seem, well, crazy. But that’s exactly what you need to do. In the past I’ve fought them. I’ve tried to save my ego.
My ego is not my amigo, especially when it comes to teenagers. I need to get my validation elsewhere or I’ll forever be butt hurt.
These days, unless they are directly being rude to me, I also ask two very important questions: “Do you want my opinion or do you just want me to listen?” If they only want to vent about something, nothing I say is going to change their mind anyway. And isn’t life their best teacher anyway? The more I try and convince them, the more I become the target.
9. Stop Trying to Fix Everything: One of the hardest things I’m learning is that I can’t fix how my teenagers feel about anything — especially what they think about me. This goes back to #8. It’s not my kids’ job to like me or fill me up. They aren’t my friends. It’s my job to keep them safe. And, if they don’t feel safe, and they tell me that, it’s my job to decide if they are manipulating me (it’s been known to happen — I’m a softie) or if it’s something I need to change, such as how I talk to them. It can be confusing for a co-dependent in transition like myself. That leaves me with only one thing to do sometimes…
10. God: I couldn’t do this teenage thing without God. Taking time to bring in my higher power reminds me who is really in charge. It helps me to separate myself from their attitudes about me. It helps me to think clearly. It helps me to walk away when I’m getting angry.
At the end of the day, a belief in God reminds me to let go of the fear I have that either my kids hate me or I’m messing up too much. When I remember that they, too, have their own God, I can relax. I don’t have that much power. What a relief!
My true friends know that things have been rough lately. I have struggled between standing my ground in love and wanting to lay down the hammer like a pissed off porcupine with a tube of “Don’t screw with me juice” up its behind. But, thanks to some wonderful 12 step groups, I’ve also seen my part in creating a few dynamics that are playing out in my household. (Not always having clear enough guidelines, not trusting myself enough, wanting them to like me. Accck! I hate writing that last part, but it’s true.)
For a while there, not even realizing it, I parented from a place of lack. Subconsciously I didn’t see my true value. It’s something that I’m actively changing now, and it’ll take a bit of time for it to settle in. That’s okay. It’s Covid. I’ve got all the time in the world!
I can’t come in like a mafia boss now and gain respect in a day. It’s going to take more than a hot second to establish the new routine… to show up as a mom who says what she means, but isn’t mean.
To show up as someone who doesn’t feel hurt when something is said to me — not because that child is particularly awful (though it might feel that way) but perhaps because they, too, are hurting.
It’s going to take a little bit of willingness on their part to see me in a new light — as a mother who cares deeply for their feelings, but is no longer willing to be a doormat and put my fairy dust on their problems at the expense of my own soul.
Motherhood is brutal and exhausting. It requires the power of a Steam Engine with the heart of a hummingbird.
My goal is to raise happy and confident adults, but that means I get to be one first. And only when I’m filling my own cup every day can I manage to follow the advice I just gave to you.
I know how hard I work at this parenting gig. Whether my teenagers understand that, at this point in their lives, is none of my business. I just need to do the footwork and leave the rest to God.
And when all else fails, I can drink another cup of decaf. (Yeah, that whole “I Gave Up Coffee and Didn’t Die” post? That’s bullshit. I caved after 3 weeks. I already don’t drink alcohol. I’m not giving up my java, too.)
About Me
That’s me!
I’m a published TV, blog, magazine and book writer who also coaches moms and grandmoms to write books rooted in wisdom, spirituality and humor.
If you are reading this, I want you to know that you are not alone. It might seem like that, but you’re not.
Perhaps you are part of a community that is outwardly hostile toward you.
Maybe your family says they love you, but they just don’t love your orientation.
Maybe your family thinks this is just a phase and you’ll grow out of it.
Maybe you are terrified yourself because you don’t want to be trans, but deep inside, you KNOW you are.
What if I told you that while you’re terrified now, the terror won’t last forever?
What if I told you that sometimes the things we fear the most are the very things we need to break the mold of who we “think” we’re supposed to be and become everything who God intended us to be?
Yes, I’m using the word “God” in the same sentence as trans. Why? Because my own sweet teenager recently came out as trans. And while at first I was devastated at this surprising news, I knew in my gut that I had to believe her to be the same child of God she was before she broke the news.
I also knew that the tugging I felt to leave evangelical church a few years earlier was not the devil leading me away from “truth.” I realized, at that very moment, that the nudging to leave was none other than God himself walking me from black and white thinking into a new technicolor rainbow of acceptance.
Trans Kid, it is not enough for you to be tolerated. You deserve to be celebrated. Because if you weren’t supposed to be this way, you wouldn’t have been made this way.
I don’t know about you, but my God, my Jesus, he doesn’t make mistakes. I believe, beyond a shadow of a doubt, just like the Bible promises, that you were formed in your mother’s womb with a plan and a purpose. And while this might not seem so clear at this very moment of confusion, it will be crystal clear sooner than you think.
What if this dark night of your soul is the very thing you need to go through so that, like the caterpillar, you can transform into something beautiful and truly fly?
I just hope, when you get your wings, you won’t forget to land on the shoulder of another who will likely be feeling exactly the way you are feeling right now.
In closing, during this time of Thanksgiving and Christmas, I hope you will remember how grateful so many people are that you were born. And for those people who aren’t grateful, guess what? They aren’t your people.
God loves you.
I love you.
And if people in your close circle can’t love you, then you just love yourself until it gets better.
Because it will get better.
Love,
Your Virtual Trans Mom
About Me
I’m a published TV, blog, magazine and book writer who also coaches moms and grandmoms to write books rooted in wisdom, spirituality and humor.
I was standing in the middle of a choir room with 70 middle schoolers when I first heard an 1848 Quaker song that made me my stop in my tracks. As a war torn sub racing day to day across the city to a variety of dark and dingy public schools (that looked more like prisons than educational facilities), this moment of unexpected pleasure was nothing short of a miracle – like waking up to a dozen deliciously wrapped presents on the kitchen table in July when your birthday isn’t until mid December.
What a gift it was to find myself in a 1930’s brick building building complete with wood floors and industrial lighting that looked like a scene out of Matilda the Musical. Add in vaulted ceilings, wood paned windows, diamond tiled linoleum and fresh paint, it was if I was transported back in time — to a time that was simpler.
The chatty kids were called to attention by a peppy sixth grade comrade in afro puffs who commanded the respect of even the largest Draco Malfoy’esque 8th grader. She whistled shrilly, picked up what could only be a magic wand (as it even got the attention of the lovebirds sneaking a kiss in the corner to high tail it to the risers) and soon the whole room bellowed:
’Tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free, Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be, And when we find ourselves in the place just right, ‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
With their voices blending in perfect pitch and harmony, I almost forgot how tired I was from the hour of bumper-to-bumper traffic I endured to get here on time. (Not to mention my frantic search for a Starbuck’s pitstop — just one more reason I’ve given up my morning java.)
Being among those soaring young voices, I forgot about the musical project I desperately wanted to complete but, due to bills and parenting and life responsibilities, remained lagging on my desktop.
I stopped obsessing about whether I would, or would not, get enough days to cover my insurance for the following year.
I just remained in the classroom, in the moment, soaking in the beauty of the notes and the fresh faces before me.
Now I’m not naive. It was possible that some of those kids had more checkered pasts at 13 then I did at 48. But there’s something about being still, about being as Eckhart Tolle reminds us, in “the power of NOW”, that showered me with unexpected peace.
The same could be said this weekend when I found a book, Simple Abundance, that had been sitting in “Andrea’s Box of Books” for 20 years in the garage. I had recently transferred this behemoth of literature to my closet and, in my own answer to my soul’s cluttered spirit, I finally picked through the titles one by one.
I tossed most of the books to make room on my shelf for the ones I truly cherished (not ones I “may” or “may not” ever read) but this beautiful pink treasure I kept. It was brand new, and something called me to set it aside. I’m so glad I did, because every single page in this 365 day devotion to simplicity speaks to my fractured spirit.
Each page reminds us to slow down. To get rid of what we don’t use. To make room for the richness of experience. To remember that we do not lack a thing to have a life of joy, peace and beauty. We only need to notice.
I don’t know about you, but if I’m not careful, I can find more things to do in a day than is possible to get done.
I can live in the past in my mistakes, or I can live in the future with my fear, but in doing so I tend to forget the beautiful wonder and joy of what is right in front of me.
One of the things the author reminds us to do is to not only to not forget to notice the loveliness right in front of us… the scent of a beeswax candle… the beauty of a clean pavement after an overdue rain… but to cultivate it.
From the January 7 entry, she writes, “What is missing from many of our days is a true sense that we are enjoying the lives we are living. It is difficult to experience moments of happiness if we are not aware of what it is we genuinely love. We must learn to savor small, authentic moments that bring us contentment. Experiment with a new cookie recipe. Take the time to slowly arrange a bouquet of flowers in order to appreciate their colors, fragrance, and beauty. Sip a cup of tea on the front stoop in the sunshine. Pause for five minutes to pet a purring cat. Simple pleasures are waiting to be enjoyed. Simple pleasures often overlooked.”
Is this possible to really do? Even when politics suck? Even when someone is mean to you on Facebook? Even when the kids don’t understand you? (No, I’m not talking about me. Ahem.) The answer is, YES. To live a life of richness means to intentionally seek it out, no matter how simple they are.
I did just that on Sunday. After returning from a trip away by myself to a cottage by the beach that had, gulp, two fireplaces, a kitchen and a sunken tub- more than simple abundance by a landslide- I stopped by the market to grab some wood to continue the cozy vibe at home.
Side note on the cottage: I might have kept both fireplaces running at the same time just to giddily run back and forth, buck naked, for the sheer joy of being able to do so in splendid, blessed quiet. #noregrets
(Pier Point Inn, Ventura. Beautiful and, turns out, possibly haunted. I did feel a spooky vibe but I didn’t care. .It was too quaint to worry about and likely any ghosts, seeing a six foot 50 year old racing through the parlor, would have been more terrified of me than I of them.
After getting a jumpstart on my car, I finally returned home to my own lovely cottage — a two story house I’ve been lucky enough to inhabit for almost 20 years. Sitting in the driveway, I made a conscious decision to not get irritated about dishes that would inevitably be left in the sink. (They were.) I refused to get crazy about the dog who would likely jump all over me with excitement at her long lost mistress finally back from the salt mines (She did… complete with a puddle.)
Instead, I did what I often do before I enter my house these days. I took a breath and offered up a simple, hopeful prayer, “God, go before me.”
And so, with my Higher Power’s help and a mind set on acceptance of the simple abundance that could be mine if I kept my mind as calm as the two bedroom rental I just nested in, I brought my full suitcases and my full heart into the house.
“Mama, you’re home!” both teenagers said, getting offline for just a moment to hug me.
“I missed you!” I said back. And, to my surprise even after the stressful past few weeks we’ve had, it was true.
After doing dishes, I put on my pajamas and sat on the couch. I took in the smells of the pizza my husband was baking in the kitchen. I made a point to thank him… to not take this simple Sunday ritual for granted. I then lit a fire.
Before long, the teenagers and their friend sauntered in. Sitting 10 feet apart, we laughed and watched the crackle of the flames. There were no phones. No Netflix. Just the five of us trading stories about Star Wars and our favorite books.
I can’t lie. As much as I loved getting away by myself, the very best part of the whole weekend was tea in front of my very own fire. It was simple. It was comforting. And the mood was, yes, abundant with peace.
The next day, my dog must have felt the vibes, because I found her happily snoring on the couch. Normally a stickler for tidiness, I was content enough from the night before that I didn’t even feel the need to clean up the dishes left under the couch. I didn’t straighten the magazines or the pillows. I left it all there for the day as a reminder that, indeed, “Tis a gift to be simple, tis a gift to be free.”
It has been my experience that happiness is not a destination. It’s a choice to live in peace, to take notice of the little things in our lives and set a tone for radical joy that is not dependent on stuff but on love. Always love.
DAILY QUESTION: “Is there something you can do that is simple that can bring joy to your home… that can set the tone not just for you but for everyone you come in contact with?”
I’d love to hear from you.
Until next time,
About Me
I’m a published TV, blog, magazine and book writer who also coaches moms and grandmoms to write books rooted in wisdom, spirituality and humor.
I didn’t set out to revamp Happily Ticked Off as a blog about trusting God, trusting signs, and asking the right questions. But as I say in almost every post, life began for me this very week when I started asking a profound but simple question:
Instead of asking, “Why is this happening to me?” I began to start asking “What is this trying to teach me?”
In asking this question my very self started to unravel. Because in seeing the truth behind the crazy events of the past 60 days I saw that God wasn’t sending me heartache and change to make me uncomfortable. He was making me uncomfortable to shake me awake. And here’s what I realized:
I am controlling
I play the victim so I don’t have to have accountability
Deep down — despite all my outside achievements — I don’t feel worthy in my own life
I hate to put all this on record for everyone to see. After all, on the outside I’m a six foot, fairly attractive fifty year old.
I’ve got a good job, I write on the side, I have a nice husband and two kids that, so far, have not over-sexed, over-drugged or stolen beer from our local A.M./P.M..
But the truth is, I have parented, friended, daughter-ed and wife-d from a place of brokenness. I have not trusted God, as much as I say I do, that who I am — as Andrea — is enough.
In not trusting God, I’ve attempted to manage people, places and things around me (outside issues) to fill the hole on the inside (inside issues.)
I thought that in giving up alcohol five years ago I had surrendered my will power, and while I had let go of much of my control, I hadn’t given up all of it. How do I know? Because the people around me are miserable. This morning was no exception.
I woke up late today. I was able to meditate with my husband and do a quick spiritual reading with him, but I was rushing to get my morning pages done. And yes, I did do them, but the whole time I had an agenda going. “How will I get the blog post in, school work done and get a few things cleaned up before the cleaning service comes over?”
#1: I realize how lucky I am to have a cleaning crew come twice a month. It’s a luxury I have only recently been able to enjoy. The problem, of course, is not that my house was such a mess before. (It was.) The problem was that I was not trusting God that I could get my blog done (my purpose) and let the cleaning crew deal with the little tidbits I’d rather them not see. (The overflowing trash/the excess Halloween decorations/the fur on the couch which can only point to the furry member of the family who is really in charge round these parts.)
Exhibit #1’s theme? Fear of judgement (What does this point to? “I’m Not Enough”)
I rushed through my shower, threw the dishes in the dishwasher and made my way to the garage to start a load of laundry. In my head I was thinking, “Why aren’t the kids doing these dishes?”… “Why didn’t I print the household contract and stick it on the fridge like I said I would?”… “God, I’m setting the worst example!”
Looking out the kitchen window didn’t help my mood. “Could there be more dog crap in the yard?”
Exhibit #2 — Negative thinking, Overthinking & Too Hard on Myself (What does this point to? “I’m Not Enough.”)
On the way back from the garage I looked through the window and noticed my sweet older daughter was still in bed. She is supposed to be up daily at 8.
The conversation basically went like this:
External Me: “Hey, you’re not awake!”
Internal/Sane Me: “Walk away, Andrea. You’re cranky. This won’t go well.”
External/Insane Me: “I guess that means no electronics for 3 days.”
Her: (Groggy) “What do you mean? I’m awake! I’m just checking my texts like you asked me to.”
Internal/Sane Me: “She’s really trying. It’s been a hard season. Love over judgment is always best.”
External/Insane Me: “You’re pissing your life away!”
Her: “Wow. Ouch. That hurts, Mom.”
Internal/Sane Me: “She’s right. That kind of really sucked. Why would you say that?”
External/Sane Me: “Save it for your therapist.”
Then I walked away. Furious.
Exhibit #3: I’m unhappy with my own progress so instead of coming to my child with love, I come with anger, insinuating that she is not enough. (Where does this come from? Oh, right… “I’M NOT ENOUGH.”)
I felt like crap for obvious reasons and went to talk to her 30 minutes later. Her head was low. She hadn’t moved from bed. After a few back and forths, she basically told me, “Mom, sometimes my self-esteem is low because I can’t do anything right. I feel like you’re going to get mad. And it just doesn’t feel good.”
Oh, God. That felt like a knife in my heart. This precious child is someone I adore more than life itself. We used to be so close. But based on some things going on in her life, we just aren’t right now. And while I don’t take 100% responsibility for her emotions (I’m not that powerful) I knew, in my gut, I had done some damage. And, well, that didn’t feel good.
I asked for a hug on the way out. Her response? “No.” And who can blame her?
I went upstairs and did what I’ve done every day this week. I called my sponsor, and thank God I did, because what she said forever changed the trajectory of my thinking.
Violet: “Instead of seeing this as a moment of despair, Andrea, why don’t you use it as an opportunity to forgive yourself?” she asked.
“I don’t know if I can,” I said. By now I was really freaking out, because in addition to cleaners coming by in 20 minutes I had to teach class. (Negative Thinking Self: “You fucked up your kids. Why bother anymore?”)
Exhibit #4 — Regret and remorse instead of self-forgiveness (What does this point to? “I’m not worthy.”)
My sponsor gently reminded me that I’m asking the wrong questions. “Who is in charge?” she said.
Me: (half-heartedly) “God.”
Her: “Is it possible that God is using this opportunity for you to finally wake up and see that you are parenting through a lense of fear and control instead of love?”
Me: (Big sigh) “Yes.”
Her: “And does God make mistakes?”
Me: “No.”
Her: “Then you get to start over. You get to remember, once more, that you are worthy. That you get to love yourself for being human.”
Me: “What if my daughter doesn’t forgive me?” I asked.
Her: “Whether she forgives you or not is none of your business. She has her own God, and you aren’t it.”
She went on to say, “The issue is not that your child sleeps in. The issue is that you are ‘Outcome based’ and when it doesn’t go your way, you get angry. What if you didn’t approach either of your kids unless you were free of expectations and could approach them with love?”
“But what about consequences?” I balked.
“Consequences are fine if they are done from a place of love. Unfortunately, your child sees you giving them from a place of anger and shame. And that never feels good. And it’s not allowing God to operate when you’re in control.”
Ugggg.
Who We Are, Not What We Do, Is God’s Agenda. Do You Believe That?
That last statement hit me like a ton of bricks. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I had been playing God in both my children’s lives — but not the loving God of my understanding today. I was playing out some BC Old Testament God who was quick to anger and smiting.
Yes, I did a lot of wonderful things for them when they were growing up, but I also felt extremely guilty for things I couldn’t provide for them. In the end, they didn’t need the stuff.
What my kids wanted growing up… what they still need as teens… is for me to show up as an example of a balanced, loving woman who knows who she is in God’s eyes. That is it.
I thanked my sponsor, got off the phone, and headed downstairs. In the three minutes I had before class I found my daughter and read her a text I’d written her. It basically went like this:
Hey, Mickey. I want you to know that I’m sorry for this morning. I was mad at myself and I took it out on you. And while I’ve made mistakes over and over in my past, I am realizing now that this came from a place of unworthiness on my part. I don’t expect you to forgive me — and I’ll likely still make mistakes- but the mom I want to be is loving, kind and understanding. I know you’re going through a lot, and I want to be a safe place for you. I love you.
She looked me, and- although I was willing to surrender the outcome to God no matter what her response was — she said, “Mom, I love you. You are very special to me. I don’t always love what you do, but I love you. So much.”
And then she hugged me.
And inside, despite feeling like once again I crapped on the person I love most in the world, I felt a feeling of hope.
My soul acknowledged, for the first time, that I didn’t have to earn God’s love. Just being me was enough.
From that place of love, I will start a new journey with my beautiful daughter — one with less criticism and expectation.
And so, friends, I leave you with the two questions I will be asking myself as I continue down this parenting road and don’t know how to respond to a situation:
Am I angry and controlling? (That’s self-will… I will walk away)
Am I coming from a place of love and compassion? (That’s God’s will… I will stay and connect.)
I am going to finish up this post by saying that sometimes life is super brutal. But if we’re willing to ask the right questions, we can transform everything and begin to shift. For me, today, I am grateful that God added some spiritual dynamite to my soul.
I was blasted with the truth — truth that I don’t always believe — that I am worthy.
I love my kids more than life.
God loves me more than life.
And when I remember how very worthy I am — since God made me — I can drop any unrealistic expectations I have for my kids and parent them from a place of love, joy and radical compassion.
You, too, my friends, are so very worthy.
Happy weekend.
About Me
I’m a published TV, blog, magazine and book writer who also coaches moms and grandmoms to write books rooted in wisdom, spirituality and humor. Come back Monday — Friday where I’ll post about spirituality, writing and sobriety. And sometimes tacos. Because Tacos make everything better. Always.
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About 10 years ago – during the time I was freaking out over my son’s Tourette Syndrome – I had Dominic tested for food allergies. I wrote about this in my book. Basically my husband thought I was a nut job as it didn’t follow the traditional route of blood testing through a lab. It instead involved vials and muscle testing. I was desperate for answers and I was relieved to find out what Dominic was allergic too:
Dom’s Allergies
eggs
peanuts
dairy
gluten
ham
…and a whole host of other things. When I removed them his tics dramatically improved
Note: He did not throw up or go into major shock when eating this food. His throat did not close up. But he was much less focused, hyper and, alternatively, lethargic afterwards.
Over time, with his resistance to bringing pizza to birthday parties that tasted like cardboard and moldy rubber, he chose to eat more of what he wanted. For him this meant consuming everything but gluten.
Then he decided he felt bad for animals so he gave up meat, chicken and even fish. I supported this. I made a lot of very bad veggie meals including gluten free mac n cheese with nutritional yeast for “flavoring.” YUM!
He continued to eat cheese and eggs (with little regard to the conditions of these animals in their cages, but hey, I figured he’d cross that bridge when he got there.)
Today we had a call with a traditional allergist today because his nose has been stuffy and he’s sick of it. The allergist gave me the same spiel that I got years ago. “Because I’ve been trained with Western Medicine, and the FDA doesn’t yet approve muscle testing, I can’t offer the IGG testing route.” But… she was great. She was honest and said that she’s seen great improvements with her patients who have gone off… wait for it… the SAME stuff Dominic went off ten years ago.
My point: Go with your gut, Mamas. If you think there’s another way to treat your child and it can benefit them, do that. If you’re only doing it out of fear, don’t do that. Take some quiet time for you and go along for the ride, because at some point your kid is going to be 17 and telling YOU what they need for their health. And if you honor them along the way, and don’t baby them when they are 5 inches taller than you, you just might be giving them the wings they need to survive in the world. And that, my friends, is far more important than fixing tics.
Until next time,
May God grant you the ability to accept the tics you cannot change, have the courage to change the tics you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Andrea
My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. )
Need an editor, book coach (transformational non-fiction) or a ghost writer? Contact me at HappilyTickedOff@Gmail.com or find me on Facebook @AndreaFrazerWriter
When the Coronavirus hit in March, many parents were faced with questions about jobs, healthcare and homeschooling. And they weren’t the only ones. Lots of kids had questions, too. Luckily authors Amber Lappin, M. Ed. and Stephanie Machado-Jenkins, M.S.W., LCSW created a delightful book Wait, I Have a Question! which put a lot of younger minds to ease.
Since anxiety is such a common co-morbid condition of T.S., I reached out to these authors who graciously granted me an interview. And so, to re-boot my Taco Tuesday (which I’m renaming TIC-O Tuesday) here’s what these professionals had to say.
Book Description
Wait! I Have a Question! is a book written for families with young children who are trying to find out how to explain the mixed-up, wild world of social distancing. Beautiful illustrations and a relatable story help kids make a little sense of this WEIRD crisis.
What Kinds of Kids Would Benefit From this Book?
The authors wrote, “We’re hoping children ages 3-7 will relate to Sebastian, a young boy who has BIG questions about why he has to stay at home, why his brother’s home from college, and how his sister is going to school. We hope that Sebastian’s feelings will be familiar and that the ways he learns to navigate them will open discussions for families.”
Why They Wrote It? (Psst: Steph and Amber became friends in high school- Class of ‘90!)
Steph began to first see the need in her client care. Parents were struggling with navigating the challenges of little separation between work and home life, and littles were responding to the physical presence of their parents and the lack of their availability during “work” hours. Here’s the actual text:
(Note from Andrea – any writers out there – this is how things get started sometimes. Check out my site over here or follow me on Facebook for more encouragement!)
Stephanie and Amber’s Professional Backgrounds
Stephanie Machado-Jenkins is a clinical Social Worker. She graduated from UCLA with a BA in Social Psychology and USC with a Master in Social Work. She owns a private practice and specializes in treating adults with a trauma history. “I combine old fashioned ‘talk’ with expressive therapies,” she reports. She also teaches at a local university in their School of Social Work Department and serves as a field instructor for Master level Social Work students who are learning the art of clinical work.
Amber began as a preschool teacher at ABC Child Care Centers in Temecula, CA, where she still works today. “This gave me an excellent foundation for learning to love and care for children-and the people who care for them,” she says. In the years that followed, she wore many hats: in the preschools as a curriculum and literacy specialist, in a large children’s ministry as a part of the admin team, as a trainer and as a curriculum writer and consultant.
“I soon found that my biggest passion was in caring for the adults who care for children, so I went back to school to earn a BS in Human Development at Hope International University, and a M.Ed. with a specialty in Early Education at Grand Canyon University. Now, I am part of the faculty team at Mt. San Jacinto’s Teacher Education and Developmental Studies Department (TEDS), a foster parent educator for Riverside City College and I still get to work with ABC and as a freelance a conference speaker, trainer, and writer.”
Personal Background
Stephanie is a first generation Mexican American and the daughter of an immigrant Mother. “I grew up in the Los Angeles area and moved with my family to Riverside County in my Junior year in high school. I moved to West Los Angeles in 1990. I continue to reside in Southern California with her husband David and son, Xavier.”
Amber lives in Riverside County with her husband Jason and 20 year old twin daughters. “We also have a three-legged cat and a perfect dog.” She goes on to say, “My son works as a firefighter in New Mexico- which is way too far away for my liking.” She and her husband will celebrate their 29th wedding anniversary this year. “In our pre-pandemic lives, our hobbies were travel and eating at restaurants. Now, our hobbies are staying thankful and trying not to walk in on each other’s Zoom calls.”
Kids, Anxiety and This Book
In Wait! I Have a Question! Sebastian has GREAT ideas for addressing all sorts of feelings, including anxiety. His “I CAN” list is a nice start. Instead of focusing on what he wasn’t allowed to do while social distancing, he made a list of things he could do. Caregivers who are working with children struggling with anxiety can help kids make a list of things they can do, and then use it to help them focus on the now instead of what has happened or what might happen.
The authors stated, “Depending on your faith tradition, you may also find prayer helpful. It’s important that we don’t teach our kids that praying is a magic shield that keeps us safe from germs. Instead, we can use the time in prayer and meditation to take our worries and cares to God, and allow God to calm our hearts and minds. Incorporating deep breaths and undistracted times can settle our spirit as well as benefit our bodies.” They go on to add, “You may find apps like Calm and Headspace helpful. Each app has a number of soothing meditation recordings that are great for kids.”
Talking About Feelings
Stephanie says, “I also strongly recommend that parents encourage their children to talk about how they feel. Sometimes adults overlook that their children are also hearing newscasts that talk about people who are sick and the numbers of people across the world that have died. This can have huge impacts on our children. We have developed a conversation talking guide for this reason. We encourage you to use the guides and get your children processing.”
In addition to talking about feelings she adds, “Movement is also a huge help. In the last few weeks, we have enjoyed urban walking paths and outside water play (it’s been hot here) and this is also a good source of recreation and fun!”
Parents and Self-Care
(Note from Andrea – Ya’ll know I love this topic!) The writers encourage parents to engage in their own self-care. Stephanie says, “I am mindful of the fact that many of us no longer have work-life separation that could create an incredible imbalance in how we feel. It’s important to set aside time to engage in activities that you enjoy. Also, keep in mind that doing ‘nothing’ is in fact doing ‘something.’”
Routine vs. Play in Times of Quarantine
“Structure is important,” Stephanie says, “And it’s essential to lean into play and creativity. Dr. Dan Siegel says, ‘Play produces possibility and potential.’ I have and will continue to stand by this. These times require an outlet so that we can move anxious and worried energy ‘up and out,’” she insists, going to on to emphasize, “All sorts of play allows us to rid ourselves of the feelings that weigh on us. I’ll add that play is not just for kids. Adults need to play too! I regularly engage in play so that I feel connected to myself and that I am connected to a creative outlet that restores my soul. I absolutely enjoy my ‘go to’ play activities such as painting, collaging, photography and baking. I also reach out to my circle of friends and loud laugh regularly! We clinicians have an awesome sense of humor!”
Structure
While Amber admits play is critical, she points out that structure is an equally wonderful grounding opportunity for both kids and parents. “During crises, when chaos seems to be an overarching theme, it helps when children can lean into the stability of at least a few familiar routines,” she says. “Keeping developing brains regulated with the structure of expected patterns in the day can also help minimize tantrums, anxiety, and squabbles.” I am recommending to parents of young children to draw up a loose version of the basic times of their day- a ‘flexible schedule’ if you will. As tempting as it is to let set times slide, this can be the root of some really wild behavior.”
She goes on to say, “Because it’s a totally mixed up, wild time, it’s okay to make bedtimes later and allow some ‘sleeping in.’ This may afford the parents some time to get up early and get work done before their littles wake up. But don’t forget that children under the age of 5 need about 11-13 hours of sleep a day (this can include naps.) That didn’t change just because of the pandemic! When you have a set bedtime (even if it’s later!) and a set wake up time (even though waking up small children seems plain wrong), you help your children get the sleep patterns they need to be able to rest well and function better throughout the day. (Hint: same for parents! They need healthy sleep cycles too!)
Collaboration During Times of Quarantine (For my Writers Out There!)
Amber and Steph had daily Zoom meetings including many a Sunday to get it done! They were aware of the many responsibilities they also had and were mindful of ensuring that their time spent was efficient and productive.
“We also shared Google pages so that we could jot down ideas and exchange thoughts as the book was being created,” Stephanie reports. “We were also good about the occasional late night texting so that we did not forget a critical piece of information as a thought struck us,”
Would They Do It Again?
“Absolutely!” both writers say. They have a few ideas in the hopper and would love to keep Sebastian’s adventures alive. They are considering how they might collaborate on bringing social/emotional developmental workshops to different organizations and agencies.
The Illustrations
They had an incredible collaborator in Rock Barcellos, an illustrator in Brazil. He was able to perfectly catch the writers’ vision to bring Sebastian and his family to life! He was also super patient with them as they were trying to work as quickly as possible to get this book out while it could still be useful for families (“We must’ve checked in with his progress several times a day!” Amber admits. “We could not be more pleased with the work that he did. He’s AMAZING.”
Tacos
Taco Tuesday is all about sharing joy with friends and family. If you were at my table, what kind of taco would you eat?
Amber says, “I’m a street tacos girl. Just give me some carne asada with some grilled veggies and some guac on a nice, soft, handmade tortilla, and you’ll not hear a single complaint out of me.”
Stephanie reports,”It has to be a chorizo potato taco!”
With that order out of the way, you can find more about these authors, the illustrator and the book here!
I don’t know if you can relate to this, but I’m reacting to this Covid 19 crisis in one of two ways:
Everything is Fine!I will not freak out. All I can do is wash my hands, cut back on trips to the market, have faith that my job will still be there in a few months and enjoy every second I can with my kids before they graduate and try to block the memory of their mother shaking her bootie to Maroon 5’s “Sugar” every Taco Tuesday like a menopausal groupie.
I am Freaking the BEEP Out.
Since #2 isn’t all that attractive, I’ve given myself some serious boundaries to make life more enjoyable in the Casa de Tic. And honestly, folk, after navigating Tourettes for over 10 years, I can promise you this: I might not have the “cure” for tics in the form of a pill or a magic diet, but my attitude goes a long way in keeping the symptoms down.
Yup, when I’m relaxed and not creating undue stress (yes, yelling and being generally a crazy person about where to place the potentially Corona infested Cheetos is not particularly helpful) my son is calm. And when he’s calm, there’s less tics!
Here’s 5 more things I’ve implemented on a daily basis that have gone a long way in setting a happy tone for the home.
Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff: If my son wants to have the last word on why he’s not comfortable going to the beach, despite quarantine restrictions being lifted in Ventura County – and despite my daughter and I being clear that we are going to stay 20 feet from people and just walk on the shoreline – that’s his right. I don’t have to cajole him. I don’t have to guilt him into leaving the house. I can worry all I want about him having been in the same two rooms of this house for the past six weeks, and conjure up all sorts of worst-case scenarios that involve a 35 year old man eating gluten free pizza in my basement in two decades, but I don’t have to share those projections with my son. (Also, we don’t own a basement, so that works out, doesn’t it?)
Be Intentional with My Tone: Not all days are going to be winners for me, but for the most part, if I set out to have a good day, I have a good day. That often means being intentional about my attitude, even when things aren’t going particularly amazing for me. (Ex: Disagreements with my hubby about money, or my website having issues, or fear about this virus.) Despite perfection I can still play Michael Buble in the kitchen while I make toast. I can still read books every morning and take my mind into a new world rather than my own. I can still blast musicals on my way to Costco and call other people and ask how they are doing. When I go about making myself happy, I don’t take it out on my kids – especially my sensitive ticker.
Stay Current: By “current” I mean that I have stopped living in the past or the future. I get to live in the “now” where the magic happens. The past, for me, includes how things used to be before he was diagnosed with Tourettes. (Back when he was three, and I thought his entire life was going to unfold as perfectly as an origami crane. But with no wrinkles. Nope, unlike you suckers, my baby bird would be perfect!) By “future” I mean I stopped judging his current situation by some ideal far ahead of where he is at this moment. I wasted a lot of years drowning in the fear of what was, or what could be, instead of grasping onto the gift of this very beautiful present. Staying current has made all the difference. I can only do this by sticking to #4:
Gratitude: I am in so much gratitude these days. Yes, Dom’s tics are almost gone now – and I’m so grateful! (Parents of new tickers, did you hear that? There is HOPE!) But I’m in gratitude of far more things than tics. I’m grateful for a home. For a husband who I love and can count on. For a daughter who wants to sing show tunes with me. For a mom who still lives 15 minutes from me. For more friends than I can shake a very big stick at. By focusing on what is working in my life, as opposed to what is not, life is so much sweeter.
Relaxation: With this imposed quarantine, I know how lucky I am to have a 4 bedroom house to hunker down in. I don’t want to waste this precious gift of time freaking out. Granted, I have had a few days of misery. And I give myself slack for those. This is a new normal and I’m an extrovert! It’s haaaard! But for the most part, I’ve had a ton of joy. Much of this is because I have given myself permission to keep a lighter pace. My kids also have had a lighter pace, and this helps in keeping tics to a minimum. Throw in a lot of dancing and really bad karaoke and you have one happy Andrea which, always, goes back to #1: A happier tone in the home.
Positive Outcome Stories
I want to share a snippet of a letter I got from a dad who says he read my book two times. He wrote me to let me know how happy he was that this blog, and my next book, would be focusing on positive outcomes. To summarize, he wrote, “The internet is full of worse case scenarios…we need more writing out there that reminds us worried parents that our kids will be okay.”
So that, my friends, is what you will continue to get. You will get a ton of posts that remind you that a positive attitude can go a very very long way in raising a child that is successful despite a few tics. And, of course, I will continue to bring you interviews with top experts, parents of kids who are older and doing well (right, Carrie?), videos, books and… wait for it… a chance for you parents of younger kids to sign up to play Minecraft with Dom.
In closing, as I always say, thank you for reading. If you’re scared, feeling alone, worried about your child or generally confused about what to do next, I have a suggestion for you. Sign up for this blog (bottom of this page), join me on Facebook and let this sink into your bones: Your child is perfect, Tourettes or not. You are not alone. We’re in this together.
So happy almost Monday! And remember, if you can’t fix the tics, fix yourself! Do something fun for yourself, okay? I promise you – it will make all the difference.
My daughter insisted I strike a pose yesterday. Don’t judge.
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.
After spending more years than I would care to admit wanting to run from my home, my family runs like a well oiled machine right now. Plus with working my bootie off subbing and then trying to mash in writing and family, I feel like God has swooped in and plopped me into a much needed rest for my soul.
Don’t get me wrong – I know how serious this virus is. I don’t wish it upon anybody. And I certainly don’t feel happy that I have rest while this virus wrecking so much havoc on people emotionally, physically and mentally. But the negatives don’t nullify my positives. I am just in a good season right now, and I am comfortable enough with myself to say that out loud.
On a different note, I’m not making my life’s fortune on Medium yet, so who knows if I’ll be subbing next year still or not. But I’m thrilled that my freelance side gigs have picked up a bit and that I am moving steadily toward a niche market with it writing memoirs and helping people write their books. Stay tuned for more of that and a link to subscribe to my newsletter!
In closing, my daughter and I took a very safe social distancing car ride to the beach yesterday. The mountains were so green. And while there was definitely evidence of the Malibu fires there, thanks to dark charred sticks of trees shooting up through the canyon, wild flowers were dancing like crazy. Yellow mustard seeds and purple lupines. It was like being in nature’s candy store. As we snacked on pretzles and M and M’s (here’s to the Corona 15!) my daughter narrated the story of Hadestown in between singing some of the lyrics.
We eventually made it to the beach and ambled our way up a deserted lifeguard tower. As we watched the parasailors glide and duck above the waves – fifty feet ahead of us – she leaned into me and sang me a few lyrics from her musical audition song, Stay (which, ironically, is not that different than the Corona virus! The song was not from Hadestown but from an older show, Amelie)
Stay where you are Don’t come too close, and don’t go too far I’ll make you count to 100 so I have a good chance to hide Don’t expect me to play fair Move in, I move even deeper inside I like you right there I like you right there Stay
Thanks for Your “Stay” At My Blog!
I have said this before and I will say it again. I will always try new places to write. I do want to make more money in this field and I have zero problems learning how to market myself. But in the end, my relationships with people in my life, as well as some steady readers here at WordPress (you know who you are) are so much important than some flash in the pan success at Medium. (Um, I have made $3.47, despite being curated in five publications there!)
I am grateful to everyone who reads here and has followed me from the beginning. As Belladonna says, you could have chosen any blog to read, but you chose this one. Thank you!
Until next time,
My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. )
Want to Write a Book? Contact Me!
Need an editor, a mentor or a ghost writer? Contact me at HappilyTickedOff@Gmail.com or find me on Facebook @AndreaFrazerWriter
Happily Ticked Off 