My New Book

As I told Mrs. V the other day, while I inhaled more bialy bagels than can be humanly possible, I am feeling better about Stink's new condition. I have gone from crying like a "Little Wet Betty Doll" to irritated at the redtape of our HMO. In fact, when this is all said and done, I'm writing a book called "Ticked Off."

I've spent the past few days arming myself with info. As they say, knowledge is power. I'm also the new pitbull patient of Kaiser Permanente... the only difference between me and those ferocious dogs? A pitbull eventually lets go.

I received some very encouraging advice just now from my sister in law who, as a first grade teacher, has seen several ticks on and off throughout her ten years. Often times they are stress related and go away. Of course I'm led to thinking, "What's this kid stressed over?" But she assured me that you can't tell what goes through kids' brains. It could simply be too much stimuli: the in and out of the car constantly... the running around. I'm not exactly a quiet mommy. So, until we get a diagnosis, we're taking it easy. People can come to us. Except for school, we're going to lay low.

I'm also going to give us a more regular steady diet. There's a lot of added hormones in our food. Those organic hemp wearing veggie huggers just might have a point. Though many of them could make their point better with nicer hair-dos. And a shave. Just saying.

Here's a link for any of you that might go through this yourself some day. I'm going to buy this guy's book and then I'll let you know if it's effective.

http://facialtics.org/form.html?gclid=CKWzscTRyogCFSQSOAodryv0_Q

I also want to thank everyone for your nice words. I have the best mom, friends and online buds on the planet (including a few of you who showed up at my doorstep with Blinkies apple fritters and shortbread twisties. Oh yeah.)

I have a good feeling now that Stink's little blinks will end up being nothing. In fact, I can't help but think that God sometimes sends us wacky crap to keep us grounded and realize that a traveling husband, or the wrong size washer for the cabinet, really isn't that big a deal.

And when I hear that everything is fine with my boy, I'm sending the Tourette's Association a big fat check of relief for Christmas.