My Wife’s Assertion About Nicole Curtis of Rehab Addict - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 10

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 9a - February 13, 2026)

Happy Valentine's Day to my supermom-wife Diann!

She has never been involved in the day-to-day progress of my project houses. For some who don't know our family, this has led to questions. But those close to us understand.

Parenting a developmentally disabled child, my stepson, is a 24/7 role. Even when Diann's not shadowing him in person, she's the dedicated general of my stepson’s caregiving team. When her phone rings, her back stiffens as concern floods her expression. She’s steadily mindful of his schedule, the appointments, therapies, and check-ups throughout our calendar. My wife is in this special needs-mom-mode, day in and out, even when he’s not with us.

Being a witness to this pair’s special bond is tough for me to adequately describe. She understands his unique way of communicating. Diann and our boy have endless inside jokes triggered by tiny signs with his hands or sound effects with learned meaning. Apart, and even more together, they’re both way past remarkable. Our daughter is right there with her, but the depths of his special language left me in the dust years back.

The multisyllabic medical terms and medicines that are part of his past and present, roll off Diann’s tongue, keeping her in pace with any practitioner or pharmacist. She regularly calms other mothers with a fresh diagnosis who are in need of encouragement. Navigating the waters of special needs parenting is tricky and listening to my wife educate and reassure others is a source of prideful amazement for our daughter and I.

My wife has an incredible work ethic, gifted with an ability to focus whether she's digging into finances, dealing with a family member's health issue, or fighting for her only son in court. She's effective in an admirable way, in my eyes, as well as those who have seen her at the helm of these responsibilities.

At the risk of coming off as if I am bragging or even pandering for empathy, I hope to make it clear that my wife is an extraordinary woman before I go further with my storytelling.

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When breathing life into the lungs of a run-down house, TV’s Nicole Curtis can get it done and it was nice to have Diann draw her own comparisons between me and the popular rehabber on television. In our own respective ways, we each had things in common with this gal addicted to rehab.

My wife naturally shared her own awareness of these commonalities and in early 2012 she responded to dialogue on Rehab Addict. "She sounds like you,” Diann said. “That sounds like something you'd say!" That was a significant moment. She had been listening to me when I had wondered, a few times, if she might have been faking attention.

Weeks after this confirmation, the rehab addict was in midsentence when Diann shouted from another room, "She’s talking like you again!” before saying, “You wrote about that in your blog.” Then her head popped around the corner, and she added more definitively, "She's reading your blog."

A couple days later, something similar happened and Diann got even more charged up, slower, clearer, and louder this time as she said, "I'm telling you, she's reading your blog!"

Although I appreciated how Curtis was expressing a similar viewpoint, I didn't share in my wife’s opinion about the TV renovator having or taking the time to read my blog posts. Still, it seemed like Diann felt as if she knew female intuition type stuff that I needed to consider and try to understand.

I didn’t think too long and hard about these conclusions. I was just thankful the show helped Diann understand some of my takes on renovating a little better. Plus, I was flattered that she saw parallels between me and the rehabber blowing up on home improvement television.

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 11 - February 16, 2026)

Blog with a Dog Named Cerberus - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 6

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 5 - February 2, 2026)

In the summer of 2011, I wrote my introductory blog posts to burn a few hours while my four-year-old was at VBS. Then I came up with a short list of possible titles; catchy, mind-grabbing labels that people could easily remember and find on the internet. However, one after another had already been snatched up by website founders I considered as clever, yet quicker than me.  

I kept at it though, seeking out something unique to name my blog. This thinking took me back to my early inroads into renovating when one doubt filled visitor, convinced of my imminent failure said, "You can't turn a pig's ear into a silk purse." But I found ways of saving that house, the one deemed uninhabitable after a devastating fire. And this led to something else noteworthy: my winning a contest on thisoldhouse.com, the site of the show that had fertilized the seed for my renovation dreams.  

Even with this unlikely success, subsequent jacked up house projects had also been initially seen as foolishness. But the resurrections were forged around my joy of these challenges, a passion that made it easy for me to let this work consume the bulk of my thoughts and time for nearly ten years.

Although I hadn't cried, I’d been bloodied and dripped plenty of sweat on my jobsites. So, I eventually combined that ill spoken remark with the well-known idiom, blood, sweat, and tears, and typed “Blood, Sweat, and Pig's Ears” into the on-line search box. It was up for the taking and I had this blog name.

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Before marriage and fatherhood, most of my decisions seemed predicated on the schedules and budgets and profit margins of my work:

How long will this take?

How much is it going to cost?

And How will this or that impact the property's value?

But by 2011, my thoughts had become dominated with getting our daughter ready for kindergarten, my stepson's development, and trying to be supportive of my wife in her role as a special needs mom. My life of rehabbing had been eclipsed by other priorities; beyond anything I’d anticipated.

I was steadily eating into my nest egg as I struggled to find family/work balance

, some equilibrium that was also profitable. Writing emerged as something I could do as I stood ready to fill the next need at home. Plus, it helped me cope with the end of the life I’d had before marriage.

Along with answering questions, sharing what I’d learned while trying to inspire others, I had three hopeful objectives that were the early foundation of Blood, Sweat, and Pig's Ears. The first focused on connecting with a motivated seller of an unwanted property, maybe a house with gnarly damage or issues I was uniquely qualified to sort out and address. Secondly, I was optimistic this log could help me find a client with a challenging home other contractors wouldn't take on. Or lastly, by putting myself into wider view as an essayist, I had fantasies of linking up with someone in the world of writing.

I didn't need this site to help me land more than one legitimate opportunity. I only needed one hit to make this step into murky territory feel like it was over and above a cool new hobby. Yet more significantly, I really needed BSAPE to help me regain footing on a fresh patch of solid ground.

(Response to TV View Show Viewers: Post 7 - Coming Soon)